Dear 1980,
No, we're not sending back evil robots to kill your sons to allow a computer to take over the planet. (Although that was a good movie in a few years, you'll see.)
I write to you now as I am sending messages to my friends with a wireless communication device that uses a touch screen. I'm drinking coffee that heats itself in a container at the push of a button, while playing games with people from all over the planet on my home computer. I also enjoying playing games with those same people on the road, courtesy of a portable computer.
Oh yeah, as far as games go: Think Pac-Man. Then throw that thought out and think of graphics that look like real life. Armies of virtual soldiers battle each other out via something we call the Internet, not for world domination, but to blow off some steam after working our soul sucking jobs.
We have cars that use built-in computers for everything from navigation to making sure the engine is running right to inflating a flat tire. And the cars do look pretty futuristic right now. Of course, we have no flying cars.
Flying cars are the reason I am writing to you, 1980. You see, when I was a boy in your time, leading "experts" always claimed that by the year 2000 we'd all be zooming around in flying cars, with robot maids to take care of our basic chores, and laser guns for protection.
Yeah, none of that has happened.
So, 1980, I need you to work harder this time around, and make sure that somebody invents that shit, because it's now eight years late, and I'm tired of waiting for it.
As a reward for your extra effort, I'm including this tip: Invest in Microsoft and Google. I promise you won't be sorry.
Thanks,
Your friend Jeremy, from 2008.
P.S. Tell George Lucas to let someone else handle the first three Star Wars movies. He really screws them up.
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