Ah, science fiction television
January 19th, 2005I won’t get around to posting again before Friday, so I decided to show my excitement now. You see, friday holds the future of the next three months. It is where stories begin and suspense builds. Friday summons forth the world beyond our own, and calls to attention an understanding of our universe. What I am obviously talking about are the half season premieres of Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis, and of course Monk. These three shows represent the genius of Canadian television, and if you haven’t watched any of them, #m will get slightly irritated, and we don’t want that. So anyway, this friday will henceforth be considered my slump day. From 8-11PM, you know where I’ll be (sitting in front of a TV with a vacant gaze in my eyes, doing what one might consider to have no real purpose other than to waste time on something you get no lasting value out of).
I really can’t imagine it being 2005 already. Sure, 2004 was last year, and 2003 was technically the one before that, but I’ve always pictured the year as being not far from 2000. It’s supposed to be 2001, people! Yet it’s more than that - we’re half done with the 200X’s! I guess I really miss the 1990’s. Back when internet games stole hours of innocent children’s time, when shows like The Magic School Bus were still on, and when you could listen to Techno without being deported to Germany or Japan (not that I would mind the later). But back to the year, I still don’t understand why we are still calling it two-thousand-five. I’ve said this before, and I will say it again: The year is twenty-oh-five, got it!?
Imagine you’re on ER, Scrubs, Chicago Hope, any of those hospital shows. Now imagine your dying. You’ve been the victim of a hit and run, and it’s only when your college professor noticed you lying on the street did you get an ambulance to the local healing center (oblivious to the fact that it was really your professor that hit you, and he took you to the hospital after dumping the car in the reservoir as to avoid suspicion). Your heart has stopped, and your only hope is one of those magic shocky things they give you (I supposed you could call them defibrillators, if you wanted to be correct). First try: nothing. Second try: nothing. Finally, the doctor with perfect hair that’s too young to even be a resident tell’s his assistant to give it one more try. “Clear!”, he shouts, accidentally tossing his neck-length bangs behind him with that work. He pushes the cold, metal pads onto your chest, your $100 ripped shirt hanging off the crash cart. The jolt of electricity runs through the wires, racing to your heart to give you the gift of a few more precious years. They leave the pads with a jump, seeping into your body. Your chest spasms slightly as your muscles contract. Your heart give another beat as the organ pumps another rush of blood through your dying body. And it’s over. You’ve been pronounced dead at 2:30 AM.
Fortunately, it was only a dream, and your really just sleeping at you computer, layering the keyboard with a thin coating of drool. In another stroke of luck, you’ve clicked on the shortcut to Amazon.com, and what do you find on the front page? An Automated External Defibrillator, of course! Now, you can experience the same excitement of the Emergency Room in your own home. The Philips HeartStart Home AED can give you all this for the low price of $1,495 (you save $500!). Note, I do not suggest or condone the use of any medical device in any way other than it was designed to be used for, including the use of AED when not experiencing cardiac arrest or as a way to surprise you dog.
