'Coffee' - Mike Derderian
It is 1988. People no longer strike up conversations. Of course you have to find them first, and obviously you won’t find them strolling the streets. They now hide behind over sized television screens that are connected to beeping boxes. Tentacle-like wires are everywhere. It all looks like a modern rendition of a classical scene involving a hydra, painted with a bleak futuristic brush. A blinking cursor helps you traverse the world’s digital landscapes. Ironically, we’ve all become avatars to an existence devoid of nirvana. The world has changed. I just bought a falafel sandwich from a robot at Amman Blvd. It did not ask me if I was having a good day. “What will you have sir?” it asked. A few seconds later it handed me a sandwich neatly wrapped in aluminium foil. We now drink coffee from the comfort of our high-tech living rooms. ‘High-tech’ - I believe that is the term. Gone are the days when individuals met for a warm cup of coffee and a cigarette - if they can afford the latter. "What will you talk about when your life is already out there, and everything you need to know about a person is available with a push of a button?" Someone I know asked me during a badly transmitted video conference call. The proverbial bubble is visible now. Everyone is wrapped up in one. It is a room without a real view. A room with a couple of screens and mechanical oddities that bring the world to you. It turns you to one of them. God I miss having a coffee with someone.
- from the short story The Electronic Bubble, by Manuel V. Derida, 1950