“Good morning. The time is now. Wake up!”" You are woken by the calm voice of your smart home device that sits all sleek and curvy on your bedstand. You are not fully sure how it works, but are so thankful for it. This device has solved so many issues for you, and helps you get the most out of yourself.
“I noticed you slept fitfully. It looks like you may be getting sick.”
You didn't think this device had a camera, or that you slept fitfully. You guess that it must have been using the microphone to gage your breathing, and maybe comparing it to what healthy sleeping sounds like. No matter, it makes you feel strange, but you go with it.
“I didn't see any meetings on your calendar, so you should stay home. I've gone ahead and added Tropicana Orange Juice and Hall's Cough Drops to your shopping cart. Just say confirm and they'll be bought and shipped this afternoon.”
“Great, also, I ordered a large Papa John's Meat Lover MegaPizza for you. You deserve the best day, and the best day starts with Papa John's. Say confirm.”
I do deserve pizza, you think, and say confirm. The tv at the foot of your bed turns on.
“For a perfect sick day, a good show is just what the doctor ordered. Luckily, a new season of the original series 'Good Boys' just hit our streaming service. Good Boys is the uproarious new comedy from the creators of 'Fart My President'. It details the misadve--”
No thank you! you say.
“Misadventures of Jonny and his crazy band of--”
No thank you!
“half-brothers. Wanna watch it now?”
No thank you, you say again, a bit louder.
“Okay. I'll start up the last show you were watching. Resume from where you left off or start again?”
Resume, you say. You were going to get out of bed, but now that you think about it, maybe you do feel a bit sick. You sink into your bed and watch your show.
Halfway through the episode, a new character is introduced that seems like such a dumb caricature, as if the writers of the show didn't even care to make her believable. As you watch the show go off the rails, you feel an unexpected rage rise up in you. It's unplaceable, an anger inspired by this shoddy character but inflamed by something deeper. It's some sort of disappointment, or disbelief at what the writers must think of you and people like you, or something---whatever, this rage feels indicative of a larger point, one that you can't quite articulate but know you are right about.
You start drafting a blog post in your head, about how the show has an obligation to be better than this. The thought of writing this tires you though, so you reduce it down to a perfect, acidic tweet. You speak the tweet aloud to your smart device, who sends it out to the world, then you sink deeper into your mattress and let the next episode auto-play.