“I'm sending an SOS to the world...”

(if I don't get a reply I'm gonna feel pretty ripped off.)

So, just like Horatio Cuthbert, the monologuing hero of The Police hit “Message In A Bottle”, I too am now in a position to communicate with the masses even if I have indeed found myself to be a tropical exile. But unlike Cuthbert, I will not be using second-hand glassware that has come into my possession by chance, but rather a sleek, futuristic device that I splurged on, out of total whim and impulse (Thank you also to Pablo, the arctic flightless bird of much knowledge and smiles.)

The ability to communicate over long distance has been something we humans have always desired to do. We've found a myriad of ways and instruments to achieve this end, from the eloquent sounds of Sir Tancred O'Laughlins soliloquy “Bullroarer”, to the sweet melodies of M'kombe Lildwala's “Message To My Girl” But the way I'm most interested is far more in line with the parable rich ramblings of Tyler Spencer, in the legendary “Synthesizer”.

In a day and age where a device's value isn't weighed so much on how well designed it is, but rather on how many functions of day-to-day life that it fulfils, more and more we are finding ways to incorporate gadgetry into our gizmos. We are putting mustard on that mustard, as it were. A few years back Victorinox hit the market with a Swiss Army knife that comprised of the regular assortment of useful implements PLUS A USB DRIVE. This indicator seemed to say that no matter how useful the implement already is, unless it possesses the ability to store massive amounts of data – it’s junk. People communicate with written word transmitted at speeds that make breaking the sound barrier look like a feat achieved in slow motion, and expect to be able to do anything on the move. Eat, read, communicate (I know, how crazy is the last one?)

So now I can travel on public transport, my iPod on and my varied selections playing directly into the eagerly receptive membrane that is my ear drum. In one hand, I have my mobile, frantically texting to people, using language that isn't so much a dialect as a distillation of words down into a semaphore-like arrangement of individual alpha-numerics, and the occasional outburst of punctuation to summon forth an avatar of faked emotions. On my lap, a compact machine that allows me to record my written thoughts and then wirelessly transmit them to the greater world, so that all the others with lifestyles that make them resemble well-dressed cyborgs can read and lol.

If I begin to forego human interaction at the expense of the electronic word, someone must interrupt me as I communicate with my thumbs, and put a magnet to my head for eight seconds. If you then utter the phrase, “That'll do nicely, pig”, I'll get the reference and the injection of pop culture shall restore me to the original factory settings. Which might indeed be a mistake, but it can't be too far a step backwards, especially in contrast to the fleshy automaton that I had become.

That's two posts in a row I've used the word fleshy. Egad.

In contrast though, would a race of cyborgs that are seamlessly integrated into our existing society be such a bad thing? They would still share the right DNA, they would work alongside us, just with the added benefit of being able to interact with our workplace tools on a more even keel. The added familiarity with the IT component of our lives would streamline a great deal of process, reduce the overheads caused by system interruption, and further the culture of in-jokes expressed through binary code. Ultimately, this would lead to a society where we are free to focus on the real issues at hand – the impending crusade against Mars.

Undoubtedly, the Martians dealt with the problem of yuppie cyborgs ages ago, and we're just playing catch-up. They'll be laughing hysterically at us when they see the way we clumsily add more and more devices into our lives as species-wide we suffer this odd form of computer envy. This is why we must trump them, we must do this better than they did. Whether this means an iPhone built into the arm of every man, woman and child, or whether it means Inspector Gadget style mobile telephony (which would be pretty cool), we're going to have to outdo our green/grey nemeses.

Imagine a world where the communications network is not just a bunch of satellites and wires, but composed of the organic web that can only be woven by linking every single person together. Nothing would get by us, we'd stand united. And when we saw a little green man descend from his saucer, trip and tumble down head-first, we'd all be able to share the moment, and laugh the guffaws of the righteous.

Gotta go, I'm getting a call from work on my shoe.

Q: Diamonds Or Pearls? I’m not fussed, it’s all Prince songs to me.
Song For The Day: “Whisper Your Name” by Harry Connick jr