I've come to a conclusion. One of the reasons why I'm constantly pissed off is because I feel cheated. I look around and I see huge buses with moving ads on them, extremely fast, shiny cars, and inviting, curvy motorcycles but last time I checked, this was 2011 and that thing I'm carrying is a backpack, not a jetpack. Where are all the cool things the movies promised me?
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| I only got a touch-screen phone a few months ago, you ass |
Blade Runner told me I would have a flying car by now and instead I have a bicycle. Not even a TRON motorcycle, a bicycle. Her name is Lily and I love her, but she lacks any kind of futuristic abilities and I can't help but feel a bit disappointed every time we go out together. I could settle for a Back to the Future hover-board but a quick look around and the closest thing I can find is my ironing board – and we definitely don't know each other well enough for me to try to jump on it.
I was also supposed to have a clone in case something were to happen to my, oh I don't know, let’s say liver. My city was supposed to be enclosed in a majestic dome that would prevent illnesses from spreading. The machines were supposed to be angry enough to at least be plotting their rebellion by now and most importantly, I was supposed to have an awesome robot-butler named Alfred that would call everyone sir and madam and would look exactly like Michael Gough. He would answer the phone saying cool shit like: "You have reached the Wayne Residence, how may I help you?" in a posh accent and if I ever felt depressed, he would cheer me up with his witty remarks. Where is my Alfred, cinema?
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| He would have looked so real |
Instead, I have to not drink or smoke or breathe because if something breaks, chances are they won't find a replacement part on time. I have a cold 8 months a year and at the moment, the only machine angry at me is my toaster. If it took humans approximately 7 million years to evolve from apes - can you even begin to calculate how long it will take for my toaster to evolve into T-1000?
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| Start doing the math |
When I was a kid, the thought of robots rebelling against humans by the time I was middle-aged. was sending shivers down my spine. I would fall asleep thinking how I would save my future family from “the Terminator baddy” – I would come up with elaborate plans including odour guns and human eyeballs (unfortunately, I'm not making this up) but now that I'm almost 30, my reality is far less exciting. The other day I was gawking at this:
Past me would bitch-slap the now me into oblivion for that.
And where are the huge spaceships with the blinking lights hovering over cities? I still haven't seen a short green dude with big black eyes appearing out of nowhere holding one of these:
Overpopulation and the Earth's inability to sustain us would force us to make a life for ourselves on other planets - we were supposed to have colonies on Mars and popping algae pills for breakfast, lunch and dinner by now. Instead, I'm living in an ever-growing chav ghetto which would be OK, if I knew that next time someone would try to steal Lily the bike, the patrolling officer upholding the law would be RoboCop. But no, that was another lie, wasn't it?
Bottom line: I now know that the movies have been lying to me since the beginning of my time but that doesn't make the fact that I will never get to befriend Johnny Five any less upsetting. The one good thing is that I will probably never have to come face to face with this
say, on my way back from Tesco's. I suppose that’s +1 for our boring reality.
Other than that, fuck you movie people for making me go on living without my robot-Alfred. Don’t expect me to save your ass if one night, some crazed-looking bloke asks you if you've ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight - I'll be too busy answering my own phone.
