-------------------------------
..........................................................
Written by Scott Adams, published in "The Dilbert Future" by HarperBusiness. Copyright United Media, 1997. Please keep this notice with the text if you forward it by e-mail.
..........................................................
There are so many Star Trek(tm) spin-offs that it is easy to fool yourself into thinking that the Star Trek vision is an accurate vision of the future. Sadly, Star Trek does not take into account the stupidity, selfishness, and horniness of the average human being. Allow me to describe some of the more obvious errors in the Star Trek vision.
Medical Technology
------------------
On Star Trek, the doctors have handheld devices that instantly close any openings in the skin. Imagine that sort of device in the hands of your unscrupulous friends. They would sneak up behind you and seal your ass shut as a practical joke. The devices would be sold in novelty stores instead of medical outlets. All things considered, I'm happy that it's not easy to close other people's orifices.
Transporter
-----------
It would be great to be able to beam your molecules across space and then reassemble them. The only problem is that you have to trust your co-worker to operate the transporter. These are the same people who won't add paper to the photocopier or make a new pot of coffee after taking the last drop. I don't think they'll be double-checking the transporter coordinates. They'll be accidentally beaming people into walls, pets, and furniture. People will spend all their time apologizing for having inanimate objects protruding from parts of their bodies.
'Pay no attention to the knickknacks; I got beamed into a hutch yesterday.'
If I could beam things from one place to another, I'd never leave the house. I'd sit in a big comfy chair and just start beaming groceries, stereo equipment, cheerleaders, and anything else I wanted right into my house. I'm fairly certain I would abuse this power. If anybody came to arrest me, I'd beam them into space. If I wanted some paintings for my walls, I'd beam the contents of the Louvre over to my place, pick out the good stuff, and beam the rest into my neighbor's garage.
If I were watching the news on television and didn't like what I heard, I would beam the anchorman into my living room during the commercial break, give him a vicious wedgie, and beam him back before anybody noticed. I'd never worry about 'keeping up with the Joneses,' because as soon as they got something nice, it would disappear right out of their hands. My neighbors would have to use milk crates for furniture. And that's only after I had all the milk crates I would ever need for the rest of my life. There's only one thing that could keep me from spending all my time wreaking havoc with the transporter: the holodeck.
Holodeck
--------
For those of you who only watched the 'old' Star Trek, the holodeck can create simulated worlds that look and feel just like the real thing. The characters on Star Trek use the holodeck for recreation during breaks from work. This is somewhat unrealistic. If I had a holodeck, I'd close the door and never come out until I died of exhaustion. It would be hard to convince me I should be anywhere but in the holodeck, getting my oil massage from Cindy Crawford and her simulated twin sister.
Holodecks would be very addicting. If there weren't enough holodecks to go around, I'd get the names of all the people who had reservations ahead of me and beam them into concrete walls. I'd feel tense about it, but that's exactly why I'd need a massage.
I'm afraid the holodeck will be society's last invention.
Sex with Aliens
---------------
According to Star Trek, there are many alien races populated with creatures who would like to have sex with humans. This would open up a lot of anatomical possibilities, but imagine the confusion. It's hard enough to have sex with human beings, much less humanoids. One wrong move and you're suddenly transported naked to the Gamma Quadrant to stand trial for who-knows-what. This could only add to performance anxiety. You would never be quite sure what moves would be sensual and what moves would be a galactic-sized mistake.
Me Trying to Have Sex with an Alien
-----------------------------------
Me: May I touch that?
Alien: That is not an erogenous zone. It is a separate corporeal being that has been attached to my body for six hundred years.
Me: It's cute. I wonder if it would let me have sex with it.
Alien: That's exactly what I said six hundred years ago.
The best part about having sex with aliens, according to the Star Trek model, is that the alien always dies a tragic death soon afterward. I don't have to tell you how many problems that would solve. Realistically, the future won't be that convenient.
RECEIVED FROM AN ENGLISH PROFESSOR:
-----------------------------
This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted) English 44A- Southern Methodist Univ.(SMU)
Creative Writing
-----------------------
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story.
The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.
----------------------------------------------------------------
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neurosis of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this !! I'm going to veto that treaty !! Let's blow'em out of the sky !!!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered, tedious, neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
Asshole.
Bitch.
--The end.
(The movie opens in a suburban home, where, the heroine is having breakfast with her adorable son.)
HEROINE : Well, it's a peaceful day! No sign of any disasters!
SON: Mom, do you have a husband or romance interest?
HEROINE : No, Bobby, although I am a top scientist and very
attractive.
(The phone rings.)
HEROINE : Uh-oh! I hope that's not a worker from the lab,
calling to tell me about an impending disaster!
LAB WORKER : Trish, a disaster is impending!
HEROINE : I'll be right there! (To her son:) Bobby, you stay here
and be vulnerable.
SON : Mom, will the disaster end up striking this exact house and
placing me in grave danger?
HEROINE : Of course!
(We see an exterior shot of the White House. Inside, the president, looking grim, is holding an emergency Cabinet meeting.)
PRESIDENT : Haven't I seen that exterior shot before?
VICE PRESIDENT : It's the same one they use in the Tom Clancy
movies.
PRESIDENT : OK, somebody set up the plot.
SCIENCE ADVISER : Mr. President, unless something is done, a
disaster is going to strike in 90 minutes, sending miniature cars
flying in all directions.
PRESIDENT : Ninety minutes! Why so long?
SCIENCE ADVISER : We need to build up the suspense.
GENERAL : Sir, we must launch a nuclear strike against Houston!
PRESIDENT : Why?
GENERAL : I hate Houston.
PRESIDENT (To the hero) : Jake, you're incredibly good-looking. I
want you to take your minority sidekick and get over to the
laboratory immediately and develop a romance interest with the
heroine. If this movie is rated ``R,'' she can show her breasts.
HERO : I'll do what I can, sir.
(The next scene is in the laboratory. The hero and heroine are staring intently at a computer screen.)
HEROINE : . . . and so by using the mouse pointer, you can drag the three of clubs over onto the four of diamonds.
(A lab worker rushes up.)
LAB WORKER : Trish, the pantograph is giving us a vector
plasma reading in the cosine range!
HERO : What does that mean?
HEROINE : Nothing. It's movie science gibberish. But it's time
for the disaster! And my son is home alone!
(The scene shifts to the heroine's neighbourhood. People are screaming; miniature cars are flying everywhere.)
HEROINE : This is terrible! Thousands of people are being
killed!
HERO : It's OK! They're extras!
SON : Help! Help!
HEROINE : My God! It's Billy!
SON : No, it's Bobby!
HEROINE : Oh, right.
HERO : I'll save him!
HEROINE : Watch out for the special effects!
(The hero, dodging miniature flying cars, saves the son.)
HEROINE : Now we can be a family unit!
SON : With Val Kilmer? I thought the hero was going to be Tom
Cruise.
HERO : He wasn't available.
(The final scene takes place back to the White House, where everybody is relieved.)
PRESIDENT : Whew! Although we lost 124 million people, all the main characters survived except the minority sidekick!
(The Cabinet applauds.)
GENERAL : So now can we attack Houston?
PRESIDENT: OK by me.
(THE END)
There are five things that women should never, ever ask a guy, but invariably do...
The five questions are:
What makes these questions so bad is that every one is guaranteed to explode into a major argument and/or divorce if the man does not answer properly, which is to say dishonestly. Here is a guide for the 5 tough questions women ask...
What are you thinking?
The proper answer to this question, of course is, "I'm sorry if I've been pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, beautiful woman you are and what a lucky guy I am to have met you." Obviously, this statement bears no resemblance whatsoever to what we are really thinking at the time, which was most likely one of three things:
One of the best answers to this stupid question comes from Al Bundy, of Married With Children, who when asked it by his wife Peg, replied: "If I wanted you to know, I'd be talking instead of thinking."
The other questions also have only one right answer but many wrong answers.
Do you love me?
The correct answer to this question is, "Yes." For those guys who feel the need to be more elaborate, you may answer, "Yes, dear." Wrong answers include:
Do I look fat?
The correct male response to this question is to confidently and emphatically state, "No, of course not" and then quickly leave the room. Wrong answers include:
Do you think she's prettier than me?
The "she" in the question could be an ex-girlfriend, a passer-by you were staring at so hard that you almost cause a traffic accident or an actress in a movie you just saw. In any case, the correct response is, "No, you are much prettier." Wrong answers include:
What would you do if I died?
Correct answer: "Dearest love, in the event of your untimely demise, life would cease to have meaning for me and I would perforce hurl myself under the front tires of the first Domino's Pizza truck that came my way." This might be the stupidest question of the lot, as is illustrated by the following stupid joke:
"Dear," said the wife. "What would you do if I died?"
"Why, dear, I would be extremely upset," said the husband.
"Why do you ask such a question?"
"Would you remarry?" persevered the wife.
"No, of couse not, dear" said the husband.
"Don't you like being married?" said the wife.
"Of course I do, dear" he said.
"Then why wouldn't you remarry?"
"Alright," said the husband, "I'd remarry."
"You would?" said the wife, looking vaguely hurt.
"Yes" said the husband.
"Would you sleep with her in our bed?" said the wife after a long pause.
"Well yes, I suppose I would." replied the husband.
"I see," said the wife indignantly. "And would you let her wear my old clothes?"
"I suppose, if she wanted to" said the husband.
"Is that so?" said the wife, leaping to her feet. "And I suppose you'd let her play with my golf clubs, too."
"Of course not, dear," said the husband. "She's left-handed."
Things You
Learn from the Movies
Difference between Men and Women
Home
