THE BLOG

Through a Google Glass, Darkly

28/05/2013 13:23 BST | Updated 24/07/2013 10:12 BST
AP

When Dave, a graduate of Computer Science and Mass Media, applied for the 'Interface Operations Engineer' position he thought the employer listed was a joke - the hacker group Ominous pointlessly pissing people off, once again. He was wrong. It wasn't a joke - the TescoSpecs conglomerate was after his speciality. After all, what better qualification to have in a modern tertiary Britain, a Britain where the poverty line is defined by bandwidth? So when they shipped him off to Ophthalmology college with his 1:1 in CCMM to qualify him for the Int. Ops role, he was a little surprised. That was 5 years ago.

6am on Thursday September 15th 2019. Dave's alarm throttles him into consciousness before vibrating off the dresser, only to be trodden on as Dave groggily stumbles out of bed, silicon shards embedding themselves into the soft part of his foot.

"Great. Not another tablet"

In the bathroom he extracts the necessary blood and skin cells so the Post Office can verify his identity and print him off a fresh husk. He nearly cuts himself shaving when the big blue monster waves at him in the mirror, mouthing 'status update' and 'friend request' - he must have fallen asleep with his glass on again. Funny, he didn't even notice. Thank Google the ear buds fell out or he might have cut his throat when the blue monster roared 'like' as someone tagged one of his photos.

At the Post Office, Dave watches the 3D printer belch and grind, giving birth to a new, paper-thin, polyelectronic husk. As he examines the fresh tablet his glass recognises the DNA registered device and signals the Cloud. Dave can feel the tablet getting noticeably warmer as the husk responds to PO's titanic wi-fi connection in an orgy of packet transfers.

He checks his work schedule. A pedestrian day it seems: Mr Jones needs his spam filtering upgraded to stop the giant breasts and 6 foot penises (offering compact tops and exponential erections) from dancing around him while he's at the gym - that's what happens when you go looking for builders on free internet. And Mrs Andrews has complained that her internet is blurry so he'll need to bring the emergency eye kit and write her a new prescription.

On his way to the station, Dave oggles iTunes until the app opens but he cannot get beyond the album covers. A quick check of his signal strength shows no bars. Typical, the squirrels are interfering with the Wi-Fi again.