Friday, September 09, 2005

Invasion Of The 'Pod People

They're everywhere. Among us. Enslaved, twin white inserts through the ears directing the actions of the hapless victims. They stumble through the city, oblivious to those in their paths.
It's inescapable. Some of the victims have become so entwined they can't turn the 'pod off even to relate to other humans - retailers turn away in dismay, never to find the answer to that eternal question, "Can I Help You?"

One of these 'Pod People, while the 'pod tortured him with eclectic tastes, causing an awkward silence among the commuters around him, was still conscious enough to answer his phone. The crazy frog, no less, a sure sign that the 'pod was melting his brain. Yet he couldn't even remove the 'pod to talk to a loved one, forcing him to talk abnormally loud. It felt like I was back on public transport five years ago, when trains ran on time, and people with mobile phones felt obliged to make the fact obvious by talking as loudly and as inanely as possible. The 'Pod People have descended.

It's fairly easy to tell how long a victim has been under the influence of a 'Pod. In the early stages, they'll still find the thing uncomfortable, will turn it off to relate to humans, and occasionally look like they're listening to music - bopping of heads, tapping of feet. Too soon though, they'll reach the deeper stages. Almost Zombies, staring off into space, slowly shuffling across town. sometimes just standing still while humanity flows around them, unsure perhaps of where they were going, or just deciding that life now has no purpose, waiting until they waste away, allowing the 'Pod to transfer to a new victim.

Attempts to revive these worst case scenarios are futile - I've seen battle-hardened street marketers, the kind that manage to sign up Harried Business Man and Angry Rushed Mother, turn away and shake their heads in pity. Some of the less fortunate become temporarily ensnared, repeating their Spiels at full bore, while the 'pod people seem to nod in agreement, only to stumble away. They've nothing better to do, and no-one better to do it with.

These poor shadows of humanity - I've yet to see one as active as those on the ads. poor Bono, his one scrap of humanity stripped away by the 'Pods. posted by Keegan at 9:29 am

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