Everyone’s a critic — and when you’re a writer, you encounter too many of them before you even leave the house.
“Mom, you’re always so negative about technology,” one of my offspring complained recently. “Why don’t you follow your own rule?”
“What rule is that?”
“You know, the one you always told us: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Rats! I guess he really was listening, at least some of the time. But if I were to follow that dictum, how would I ever fill my column?
“At least, mom, try saying something nice about technology — just this once.”
“Yes,” agrees the critic’s father. “It might be refreshing.”
I try, but all that comes to mind is the observation, by science fiction visionary Arthur C. Clarke, that “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
Hmm. Magic…. Like, in a fairy tale?
What if when Hansel & Gretel are lost in the woods, imprisoned by a wicked witch, they are rescued by someone using the app “Find my Child’s Phone”?
Or maybe the children could overpower the nearly-blind witch by shining the flashlight app in her eyes?
Of course, how they kept their cell phones charged, in a gingerbread house in the forest, is a mystery — but it’s a cinch with magic.
What if the three bears had invested in a halfway decent alarm system?
Goldilocks would never get past her first attempt to break into their den. Instead, she and the neighborhood would be treated to an ear-shattering alarm, guaranteed to bring the neighbors running, while she runs away.
Little Bear’s porridge would still be congealing in his bowl at the table.
However, I fear Cinderella would be in for a disappointment. Instead of a pumpkin, she tries going to the ball in a Google driverless car.
Unfortunately, since Google’s programmers never got around to mapping the private roadways to the Prince’s castle, the Google car never gets there.
Cinderella spends the night trapped, somewhere, in her driverless gourd, without even a frog-footman at whom to shout directions.
Little Red Riding Hood has a better time.
With RFID chips sewn into her cloak, the authorities have no trouble tracking wherever she goes. And, when she gets to her grandmother’s house, and becomes concerned about Grannie’s big teeth and eyes, she can quickly summon assistance; bring “Grannie” to the hospital for a CAT scan; and determine that her Grandmother is inside the belly of the creature in Grannie’s night-shirt, who is really the wolf.
Laser surgery then frees Grannie with far less muss or fuss than any woodsman’s axe.
As for the Three Little Pigs, their lives are completely transformed.
The first little pig still builds his house with straw. But when the wolf comes up and threatens to blow it in, the little pig doesn’t even respond.
The wolf cocks his ear — What’s this? Sounds of shouting, and explosions, and automatic weapons fire! Intimidated, the wolf runs away — leaving the first little pig and his friends playing their “Call of Duty” video game, totally unaware of the danger they’ve just escaped.
Next, the wolf comes to the second little pig’s house: the one built of sticks. But before reaching the door he spies dogtags on a collar, hanging from a nearby branch. They are labeled, “For the Fiercest.”
“Well, that’s clearly me,” says the wolf to himself, and puts them on.
Then he strides to the door and demands that the second pig let him in, or he’ll blow the house down.
“Okay,” yells the pig through the wooden door. “But you’ve got to stand back, the door opens out in conformance with local building codes, and I don’t want to hit you on the nose.”
The wolf complies, taking two steps back.
“Ha ha ha, ya big dummy,” yells the pig. “You’ll never knock on my door again!”
“We’ll see about that,” growls the wolf. And he tries to step up to the door again, but instead receives a giant shock from the invisible fence that the second pig has switched on.
Foiled, and scorched, the wolf runs away.
Finally, the wolf comes to the third little pig’s house, built of brick. This little pig has also installed an electric fence, as well as the alarm system recommended by the three bears.
But he’s hungry; so when the wolf comes, and he can’t leave his house, he decides to order some pizza. This being an up-to-date fairy tale, he insists that the pizza be delivered by drones, to the second-floor window.
Then the pig and his brothers (who scampered over ahead of the wolf) bring out the video game controllers, which they’ve modified, and hijack the pizza drones to chase the wolf away down the street.
But, this being a family-friendly tale, the pigs also order a fourth pizza for the wolf (a grandma pizza, of course), and let him have it once he is far enough away.
I guess technology can sometimes improve lives, after all. If you live in a fairy tale.
