The Marvelous New Device Week 6

The way the device was presented to the country was border line hilarious. The piece of silk was removed very slowly, showing a square, as big as a kitchen radio, with a touch-screen and two wires with intimidating rubber and metal ends that apparently had to be plugged to the sides of one's head. 'It’s Marvellous! Magnificent! Brilliant!' claimed the creators and the advertising agencies. It promised to deliver sensations to the user, any sensations you wanted to feel. Yes, you heard right.
Britain was reluctant. Sensations? Do you even know your market? This Is England! At the end, the government was convinced and agreed to send one to every home, under the excuse that it could increase the overall happiness levels and a happier population is a more productive population.
That's how one ended up in Mr. Dean's home. Mrs. Dean was secretively pleased, if she could only stir up Mr. Dean's heart again... It seemed, now a days, as if he wanted nothing, longed for nothing and believed in nothing. She still did her little odd knitting jobs here and there, so that and her friend Mrs. Raj, with whom she exchanged recipes, kept her spirit awake. She told him this every now and then. He replied that music could do just as well. Still, he would never even get near the radio. He was once curious, and maybe a bit of that curiosity of youth still remained in him. One day when Mrs. Dean wasn't home, he thought he would 'give it a go'. He programmed it to infuse 'Illusion' and ‘Hope’; the one he felt when he was a child. He was known for knowing no limits to the things he wanted; always trying to reach further than his little arms would allow him to.
He sat back and turned it on. There was silence and suddenly, almost immediately, tears starting rolling down from this admittedly cold hearted retired grumpy post man eyes. Mr. Dean felt hope, pure hope. He stretched out his arms, as if he was trying to reach for something. Something that he longed for and believed he could get.
The songs of Ella Fitzgerald never took him to this... child like sense of... what’s going on?
Mr. Dean's head plugged to a device actually made him feel the hope. It worked and it was Marvellous, Magnificent, Brilliant.
And with a shiver down his spine, he felt lucky to live in this time, of electricity infused feelings.

Week 4...

Character 1.
School Boy in love with class mate

I hope Onique doesn’t know. I can’t believe I lost the note I wrote her. I think I dropped it on the floor in Assembly… I can’t believe I wrote it in the first place. I’m so angry. I mean, of course I will tell her sometime, but not today. Maybe when we’re both older and ready to get married, she’ll look so beautiful in the morning, she did look nice this morning... What am I saying? I need to find the note; I need to tell everyone it was a joke. I can only pray that the note is not in pieces, in her pocket. There’s no way I’m going to Sherry’s party now. No way.

Character 2.
Onique The school Girl

Mum would never let me go out with him even if she wasn’t getting a divorce. Nothing is the same any more, why can’t it just be like it was before? I don’t think men will ever be allowed in our house again. Everyone keeps telling me he likes me, he even wrote it in a note, I heard… but it could well be a joke. He’s just going to make fun of me, like all boys do. I’ll just tell my friends there is not a chance on earth that I’ll even consider him. Then maybe I might see him at Sherry’s party, and then he’ll probably talk to me… But I need to find sometime without Tatiana and Emma…
Breath…… I don’t even like boys. Yeah. They always end up taking what’s yours… That is what mum says, anyway.

Character 3.
Dad who pretends to believe in ‘Happy goes lucky’ opportunities

Beep Beep (alarm) Time to wake up! I hate my alarm and I’m so tired! I could definitely do with another hour in bed. Early-wakers get all the opportunities, I know that. I’ll do this for a couple more months, show them how much of a hard working, enthusiastic morning person I am, and soon I’ll be sitting in the big desk with the big chairs of the London office with all the rest of the lazy lucky bastards. Huh. I should jump in the shower and wear a tie today. Maybe I’ll talk to my mate Jeffrey about some business plans. I think he did some business degree of some sort. Jeffrey is a clever bloke. I’m going to take the girls for a Holiday this year, they’ll see. My little girl, how fast is she growing! And the wife, not bad, not bad at all. I should get there 10 minutes early; those corporate people will like that.

Character 4.
A nanny who doesn’t like children

Right, I am not baby sitting in this house again, ever, ever. How can this people have three children! One, I guess one is OK. Two is pushing it but bloody three! I just hope they left me some wine and crackers. (Little girl runs downstairs) ‘What’s that sweetheart? Are you crying?’ … ‘Of course there are no ghosts here tonight, they all jumped into Mummy and Daddy’s suitcase’… ‘No, oh don’t cry louder! Mummy and Daddy will be OK’ did I scare the kid even more? ‘Come on! go to bed, Casablanca is about to begin, and it is a classic! You wouldn’t understand that though would you?’ Kids….

Turning the Pen into A Key Board

Turning the Pen into a key board and the landscape to a screen,
was a compromise I made, with the innocence of the green grass and the hardness of the green microchip.
I compromise of humanity.
A compromise of replacing in my dreams, the night sky with the cyber space.
To advance we must sacrifice, keep moving society with the force of slogans....
replace prayer with information.
Reason...
To climb all the way beyond the limits we were once given... climb so high.
collect so much data.
Compromise our biological need to hug, with a mental need to 'poke'
only to want to go back to basics again and,
Replace the keyboard with a pen.