I’m now into my third week. A 26th of the way into this project. The doubters are starting to quake in their boots. These are figurative boots incidentally, just In case you are a doubter who happens to be wearing boots and are now getting a bit freaked out that I have somehow got information on you. Nice dress by the way; unusual choice given the boots, but you manage to pull it off remarkably well.
My real-life kettle nightmare (as discussed in yesterday’s blog post) seems to have brought about a literal nightmare, and one which is far more dramatic and dark.
My dream began with a man sitting in a futuristic style house, where all the domestic appliances were controlled by computer, phone and tablet. He was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the kettle to boil, when his TV switched itself on. The man was confused, as he hadn’t given the instruction for that to happen. Then the words, “you’re going to die”flashed up on the screen. The words were also proclaimed over his speakers.
At this point the kettle began to levitate and fly towards the man. Quickly, the man leapt up from the table and began to run, while the kettle pursued him. Now and again the kettle would get close enough to tip some of its boiling water on to him, but not close enough for the whole contents to scald him. He fled in the direction of the nearest door, but it wouldn’t open. He frantically repeatedly pressed the button on his phone that usually opened the door, but the words “you’re going to die”just kept flashing up at him.
The kettle had now gained on him, and began to tip boiling water over his head. He shrieked in pain, and ran in the opposite direction. The kettle did not follow. It had ran out of water and needed to be filled back up. Sadly for our friend from the future, kettle technology had moved on a lot from our day, and so the kettle was able to fill itself back up from the tap. He made it to the door at the opposite side of the room, leading to his office. He heard the kettle begin boiling again. It would be only a matter of seconds before the assault recommenced. Desperately, he tried to open the door, but the app wasn’t having any of it. “You’re going to die, you’re going to die” kept flashing up on the screen every time he pressed the open icon on his phone.
Then he had an idea. It was crazy but it might just work. He remembered that there was a manual way of opening the door, that didn’t rely on electricity or the use of his phone. He racked his brain, trying to remember how to do it. He recalled seeing his granddad doing it once, but that was years ago. It was during a fancy dress party, when they all pretended to be from the 21st century and did funny things like eat real food that wasn’t in pill form, and watched 2D videos. His granddad, always a bit of a joker, decided to use the door the old-fashioned way, and how everyone laughed. How did people live back then?
Then the memory came to him. That’s right, all he needed to do was push the handle down and pull the handle towards him, and the door should, in theory, open. Could this crazy system really work? He had no choice but to try, and quickly, as the kettle was getting up to full boil again. He pressed down on the handle. It was stiff but it capitulated under the force from his hand, then, with mounting trepidation, he pulled the door towards him, and it opened.
He stepped into his office. He assumed that shutting the door must work the same way as opening it. He gave it a go and it worked. But there was no time to bask in his glory, for the kettle had clearly boiled and was now coming for him again. He couldn’t override the electrics. He wasn’t in that part of the house, and there was no point trying to do it via the app. He’d have to keep going through the house, door by door, opening and closing them manually, and hope that he could eventually reach the front door, and escape his demented domestic assault.
The dream continued in this manner for quite awhile, with other appliances joining in. At one point there was a noise from a printer which started spitting bits of paper out. There was so much paper that he became hemmed into the corner where he was hiding from the rogue kettle. The pieces of paper all said “you’re going to die.” He began to go crazy, and started shouting “fax machine, please don’t do this! Fax machine! Turn off, turn off!” I think my brain started losing the plot a bit at this point, as I doubt that the fax machine would have made a triumphant return in this futuristic age, but perhaps I am wrong, maybe the fax machine is the one single piece of technology that our distant future descendants hold in high regard, much higher than we ever did in this age.
Perhaps this is a warning in dream form, a vision of the future. Maybe the app kettle is just the start of a slippery slope, and at the bottom of that slope waits billions of evil domestic appliances who have conquered the world and have set their former human owners to work for them as slaves! Or maybe it was just a dream.