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Life Will Not Be Like Star Trek

December 23rd, 2001

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 butt 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.

Fiction

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