Bob Booby Bites Back: The Fragmented Reality Session
Bob Booby returns for another inconsequential rant on the state of humankind and our desperate drive for self-immolation at the altar of asinine attitudes...What's all this fuss about Siri? Turning your phone into a virtual assistant? Well hello there Starship Enterprise, what are wives for! Stick it up your arse - is there an app for that, too? Siri is supposed to jerk lots of different services off the web like real-time plumbing concierges and tractor menders so you can do anything, anytime. In a skin suit or out. Some chap called Scooble says Siri is what the web was made for, that it's the “get rid of pages and glue APIs and people together" era. The Service Interface for Real-time Information. Well blow me down with a nerd feather. Is that really going to set the world on fire? Can't they say it's an acronym of Sex In a Room of Incandescents? Or maybe I just popped their cork by doing a super secret search on my private interwebs firehose. Source of Inspiration for Rude Intoxication. It all sounds a bit like the Day of Reckoning to me, but without Arnie. When that lad from the bible talked about fire and brimstone, evidently he was talking about Siri. There's some big-time smoke and mirror activity going on around here, mark these. In a week's time I reckon it'll all come out as some elaborate premature April Fool's Day hoax, at which point the creators may see their cocks literally wither away to nothingness. That's what happens when you roger the Scoobster over a barrel. I love him, and I love the idea of Siri, a lot. I think they're both great. I like the fact they're both on-demand. But I have to wonder how something that has been created to show people when their buses are due, can possibly turn into a game-changer, and force you to spray your everything over a big wall. Unless you're a busaholic or a train spotter. In which case, find a bunker and several spare clean pairs of pants, because you're about to be rocked to your very foundations. Aside and very relevant segue: I'm singing Kylie and Jase with the missus on Valentine's Day. Mucho - mucho - excited. But my goodness, that Jase does carry a note, doesn't he? It probably says: "Anytime, big boy" on it. And it's hardly new. Hasn't anyone in the United of States heard of 118 118? Last time I wanted a good curry - it was about four hours ago, if I recall - I called those Steve Cram pretenders with the bushy brows and they were only too happy to tell me I didn't have a cat in hell's chance of finding a half-decent ruby purveyor north of Bermondsey. Which frankly, is quite the inconvenience when you live about 150 miles north of Bermondsey. At 3am in the morning. This Siri is just one step closer to us being ascribed by alien life forces. Talking to your phone! Sometimes I think people forget what phones were made for.Take these so-called 'smart' phones. When did they last take a look through the dictionary (I'm up to B and stuck on ballyhoo) to see what smart actually means? According to thefreedictionary.com smart means:
a. Characterized by sharp quick thought; bright. When was an inanimate object bright? It runs out of battery when you're mid-call; you can't see the display in the dark (which is the very antithesis of bright, no?); the keys are too close together and the screen is too small. BRIGHT?
b. Amusingly clever; witty: a smart quip; a lively, smart conversation. Now here's where my phone really (sarcastic) goes to town. I swear it's employed by the MI5 to explorer the inner recesses of my very disturbed mind. Well try as I might I can't get a bloody word out of it. And then when I use it to call someone, the person on the other end of the line always sounds like a cross between a gibbon and Stephen Hawking, asleep. I think I need to change friends.
c. Impertinent; insolent: That's enough of your smart talk. Well there's the truth. I want to make a note on my phone? Sorry, sir, we don't have a notes application. The camera doesn't focus. I can't send an MMS because it costs 50p. And O2 has whipped my web bolt on, off, because of some technical issue. And they pointedly refuse to reinstate it! That surely is enough of your smart talk. What a load of crap. Baloney. Horse manure.This Siri thing. We're all too soft these days - especially that Thackeray chap. Mastermind Groups, indeed. He'll be asking for clones of his ego, next. Imagine that - lots of tall egos wandering round the town, eating sausages out of buns and making quick quips about ladies in summer dresses. Doesn't sound like much fun to me. Siri is only available on the Apple phone. So are we saying we want Apple to control our thoughts? Is that it? "Oooh, can you show me where the next Gay Pride march is, please, so I can dress up like a sheep-pansy and follow the crowd?" Because apparently I don't want a mind, anymore. I want to be told what to do. Recommendation engines? More like end-of-civilisation engine. So we just stop having opinions, yeah? Because instead of making our own minds up we all furtively follow the collected thoughts of others. What happens when Siri goes belly up? Trained to think only if someone tells us to, the human race will be left in glorious disarray. There are enough feral youths on the streets today without us having to yield to the rampant anonymity of conceptual void. Which reminds me. Me and my missus were having some banter the other day about why kids are gluttons for moodiness these days. Apparently (this is a she point) it's because parents are all on benefits these days and they show their kids that they don't need to do anything to get everything. And that's how it's going to be until this government of ours wakes up and smells the shoeshine. Ergo unless you're crippled, in order to achieve benefits status you have to go and contribute to society in some way. To go sweep some floors, teach some 'tards or make the flower beds all smelly-nicey and tidy again. I can see the she point on this one. It makes complete sense. Let's erode the ignorance and let's march for community. Because community is where the heart is, right?So long as we don't have village greens and cricket. I loathe cricket. Mind you, I loathe most things... Bob Booby was brought to you by Nev's Chippy and Tom's Tractor Menders. All views expressed herein are the views of Bob Booby and are in no way supported, endorsed, or bought with anything other than magic beans by the man behind DaveThackeray.com.
