May 17 2008 / by Jason
Category: Technology Year: Beyond Rating: 15 Hot
By Jason M. Vaughn
Here in glorious 2059, things are a bit different than they were
back in, say, 2008. How so? Well, for one thing, a Starbucks coffee
might have run you three dollars, back then, but now you can be
sitting at home and just think of a Starbucks coffee, and
your nanounit will “build” it for you and then automatically charge
thirty dollars to your account! 
Back in the neo “Dark Ages” of old 2008, you could only
dream of having sex with androids, or watch actors
pretending to have sex with androids in movies; heck, even just
five years ago, sex with androids was still mostly frowned upon,
and more painful, really, than pleasurable. But now, in 2059,
everybody’s having sex with androids (even other
androids!), and at worst it only causes a mild pinching…and
degrades the android.
In case you’re wondering, we don’t use the word cool
anymore (“cool” is so 2055). We use awesome now
in most situations where cool would’ve been applied, except when
we’re talking about the temperature: then we say “chilly” or “cold”
or, in certain eco-important situations, “under-warm.” Some
outsiders have recently started using awesome to describe
chilly weather (“It’s awesome out,” they’ll say, or “Man, I wish it
was just a little less awesome today,” or “Yesterday, it was so
awesome I had to wear a jacket!”), but these people are hardly ever
taken seriously, and, in some cases, they’ve even been banned from
having their own talk shows.
Yep, 2059 is pretty fascinating, if you ask me. Oprah is still
alive, and editing her magazine from the confines of a gelatin
cocoon she shares with Dr. Oz and gal-pal, Gayle King. Madonna, and
The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince,
have just collaborated on a new album entitled Still Mostly
Human (Madonna’s pseudo-butt looks great!). (cont.)
And China remains the leading exporter of lead-based
toys, coal, and baby girls. We still don’t have flying cars, in
2059, but your car can have dreams that it’s flying; and
when it wakes up in the morning and tells you about the awesome
flying dream it had, you can be like, “Yeah, right; in your
dreams,” and then you can have a good laugh together, and maybe go
halvsies on an android.
Man, some nights I just sit back on this virtual-reality beach,
with a dinner of broiled Grade-A cloned pork ribs, and thank my
lucky stars that I live in a time when the globe is no longer
warming, but under-warming; a time when you can legally
marry the thing that mops your floors; a time when a third nipple
is as highly sought after as the perfect gene portrait, though not
so highly sought after as a fourth nipple, or those new
Air Jordans; a time when the young Hollywood starlets don’t have to
wear panties (ever) and pretty much only wear them when
they know they’re not about to be photographed stepping out of a
car; a time when prejudice is just a distant, shameful memory, and
you can gaze up at the near-perfect representation of a blue sky
and take comfort in the fact that the backseats of electro-buses
are now designated only for maintenance droids and those stinking
animal-human hybrids.
Pardon me; I think I want a Starbucks coffee now. And there it
is!
Don’t you wish you were here?
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