Day 34

5.03: In the future we’ll do everything in booths. Martin Amis reckons there should be special kiosks of death, so the elderly can expunge themselves 24-hours-a-day without any need for them to go to Switzerland, or us to employ nurses to feed them biscuits. Presumably this would also help accelerate natural selection as, before long, all stupid people applying for passports would be wiped out too.

My friend Shelia (who’s a similar age to Amis) thinks there should be drug booths for junkies too. In the unlikely event of my ever being left in charge of a country, I’m going to make Sheila the Home Secretary. She holds that everyone who’s addicted to disco gear or sideways sugar puffs should be able to trot down the road, plug a couple of coins into a machine, and knock themselves out. Presumably we’d have to invent a special junky currency to stop the non-junky-regular-guys from dosing themselves up like a fat kid on doughnuts.

(This of course could lead to all sorts of bother. Junkies live in the most fiercely competitive environment in the known universe, so given their own currency, I imagine they’d be extraordinarily effective at wealth creation – or at least some of them would. The ones that survived would likely gain entry to the OECD within 18 months.)

Anyway, I was talking about booths. Between reading about Martin Amis and 25 years of listening to Sheila I’ve now conjured a dystopian vision of the future, in which the world is nothing but a series of port-a-loo doors, some promising treats and some promising death by noodly jazz. Some of them are actually lifts which just go endlessly nowhere, and some have got more booths in them, like Matryoshkas in cubicle form; in those ones you just go through a series of ever diminishing doors, until you’re nothing but a giant in a tiny booth. Now I think I’m going mad. Could all people of a certain age please stop talking about booths?

Thank you.

6.08: This morning I am all about the infographics. Here‘s one about China’s censorship of internet search terms; and here‘s another about the relative cost of healthcare per person per year around the world ordered by life expectancy.

6.55: Slow progress this morning. I notice that before I went into temporary exile I was singing along like a bellowing locomotive in the age of steam; now I’m wheezing through suburban branch lines like some emphysemic goods train. Still, keep on puffing I suppose.

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~ by David Thorley on January 26, 2010.

2 Responses to “Day 34”

  1. I love that your blog now has a ‘euthanasia’ category.

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