By Dermot Dinklewax

Hello, my fellow male and female humanoid creatures. I think it’s time we faced some uncomfortable facts. We were lied to. It is AD 2011 – a year that should only be written in Futura Bold – and yet our automobile transportation remains squarely on the ground. COME ON, guys. It’s the future. Let’s get on that. I want to be chillin’ like Bruce Willis in The 5th Element within the next year, or I’m leaving. I’ll go to Mars. Swear to god, I will.

Speaking of Mars, WHERE ARE THE ALIENS? I figured by this point I would have my mind replaced with some sort of Venusian vegetable, but apparently I was being too optimistic. Hop to it, aliens. Get off your lazy asses and come conquer us. I ask just one small favor of you, and you’re too busy procrastinating. You’ve got planets to dominate now. There will be plenty of time afterward for as much Martian Mario Kart as you want.

As long as we’re complaining here, how come I don’t live in a dystopia? How hard can it be to completely suppress free will? We were supposed to have this shit in 1984. Instead we got, like, Bryan Adams. Some tradeoff. If we don’t have dystopias, how can we have badass, anti-dystopian rebels? THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS. Let’s stop listening to the Black Eyed Peas and start total censorship of information, please.

I was going to say that I was disappointed by 2011’s lack of sentient, human-like robots as well. However, after turning on C-SPAN, I am assured that there’s at least one prediction that the movies got right. You nailed it, Blade Runner. Now where’s my sexy computerized assistant?