Cheques and Faxes

Yesterday I read about an alarm system that, when triggered would:

  1. Call the police
  2. Take a photo of the intruder and email it to you
  3. Place a video call from your security camera to your 3G mobile phone so you could return home immediately to stop the intruder
  4. Turn on the coffee machine so that when you got home the intruder, the police and yourself could all sit down an have a nice cuppa before getting down to business

I mention this example of innovation in modern technology to remind everybody that we are in 2007 and things have never been so futuristic and to that end could people please stop sending faxes and cheques.

Curly MoeFaxes and cheques were no doubt brilliant in their day, but guys, that day has passed and so should these dinosaurs of our society. I am about to fax off an application form, do you think I should ring them beforehand and ask them if they would prefer a telegram? or a wax sealed scroll strapped to the leg of a messenger boy?

And another thing, I saw on the news last year that a pharmacy was using a robot pharmacist to dispense medications. That was 12 months ago and yet this morning I strolled into an Amcal only to find a perfectly ordinary human behind the counter. I was so outraged that I put in a complaint to the head pharmacist there. She must have been having a bad morning too because she began to vibrate and laser beams started shooting out of her glowing eyeballs. Her mechanical arms flapped around knocking medications left and right and before long the shop was reduced to rubble. She eventually found me cowering behind a display of tanning lotions, no-doubt her 3D infra-red scanner had given away my location.
I offered to pay for the damage but she said that they did not accept cheques.
“Ironic” I said. This was obviously too much for her English Semantics Modulator and she melted into a puddle of nano-circuits. Women!

My point is this. We can’t go on living like the Flintstones, but at the same time, we’re not ready to live like the Jetsons, not until I get my flying car anyway.

Take care.



2 thoughts on “Cheques and Faxes”

  1. Dude, what are you doing speech pathologising and living in a respectable home with your wife when you could be hacking away on Wordperfect in a cockroach-infested Department of Housing flat next to a drain, shivering in the damp as you stagger along a moebius strip of insomnia, masturbation and two-minute noodles, just holding out for the man to publish this stuff?


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