I don’t know whether new technology is detrimental or beneficial to a writer. I’ll explain what I mean.
Let’s say I have an idea for a new superhero. A boy. A clever boy. Some might call him a genius. A boy with the ability to hear a snippet of a song and immediately tell you the title of the song, who sung it and in what year. A boy who could tell you the weather at any given moment in Afghanistan. A boy who could save you hours of your life just by telling you which busy roads to avoid. A boy… oh hold on, no need, thanks. As you were. You can take your tights off, “superhero”. I have an iPhone.
It has become harder to think up impressive superheros. With the iPhone and the internet and other modern technology we are all sort of superheros. Back in the day, Shazam Boy could have actually been a thing. Nowadays, if there was a boy with the same actual ability, it would probably get a few thousand hits on Youtube, yeah, but he wouldn’t be classed as a superhero. I guess that’s what has made Iron Man the most believable and relatable of superheros (as far as superheros go) because he’s just a man in a super modern technological suit. Batman too, but in the real world, he would just get laughed at in that outfit whereas Iron Man would rule.
OK, the ability to thrust flame balls from ones hands hasn’t been mastered yet, or x-ray vision, teleportation or even a man strong enough to catch a falling plane (I love you Superman; call me) but I do feel like a superhero (if my blog name didn’t give it away) every time my non-smart-phone-using friends say “oh, what a nice song,” and within moments I can retort, “well, you know, this was their first song off their second album released in 1987”. I usually get, “oh, you remember that do you? In 1987? You were 5, cut it out and give me the iPhone you’ve got hidden behind your back, smartass”.
This may come as a bit of a shock but without my iPhone I am not a superhero. In fact, without my iPhone I am barely human. As always, I shall illustrate my point with a shining example. On Tuesday, I was on my way to pole class (purely for fitness purposes but believe what you will) when I spotted a lot of traffic up ahead. Seeing smoke and realising that this could be good, I whipped out the iPhone and quickly managed to shoot a short video of a car up in flames (granted, my directorial and camera skills need some work but if you would like to purchase the soundtrack, just let me know). What if the car had exploded right next to me when I was supposed to be driving, hands 10 to 2, instead of taking a video, you ask? Never mind that. I needed proof of why I would be late, yet again, so I sent the video to my pole partner and pole teacher (neither one a stripper). Crisis averted. SuperKat go! I thought that my video would at least get me out of the warm-ups and stretches but no such luck. They waited for me and we ran half an hour over. Back to HumanKat.
On the way back, I planned to visit my boyfriend’s parents and wanted to take them a nice mille-feuille (yes, I had to google the spelling for that). Whipped out the iPhone. Nearest Konstandinidis patisserie (for anyone visiting Greece, if you only have one day left and your options are the Parthenon or Konstandinidis, go to Konstandinidis). Oops, I’m out of petrol. iPhone, nearest petrol station. Filled up tank. Off to Konstandinidis. It was right where my trusty iPhone said it would be. They make the mille-feuille right there and then in front of you and you have to fight the urge to ninja jump over the counter and dive headfirst into the massive whipped cream bowl. After the joyous Konstandinidis experience (if heaven is real, it smells like this) I put my boyfriend’s parents’ address into the iPhone and it came up with a short-cut which I didn’t know, but since I trust the iPhone implicitly, I went along with it. SuperKat.
After smugly, and with the iPhone-given false sense of security, going left, right, left, right, over the roundabout, right, left, under the bridge, like I knew exactly where I was going, suddenly, unexpectedly and out of nowhere, tragedy struck. My phone battery died. LOST is an understatement. Barely Human Kat made it to the in-laws’ house an hour late and to a lot of “how the hell can you get lost”, “do you have no sense of direction”, “leave her alone, she’s tired, just look at her,” and “why is there a chunk missing from the mille-feuille?”.
I stress eat. Don’t judge me.