We have a new TV channel that's been airing some old British science fiction programs. One show we watched yesterday was set in a future that has, by now, long since passed. I love retro sci-fi... I marvel at all the gadgets they were sure we'd have invented by now. If I become indignant, it's only because in real life this millennium has proven so unjust. Where is my hover car? My personal spacecraft? My jet pack? Why are those slacker scientists not busy inventing the transporter and the thing that prepares dinner in two seconds?
But what's even more engrossing are the now-everyday things that the writers didn't foresee. Tiny computers? No. In retro sci-fi, they fill rooms with their huge blinky blippiness. And using vacuum tubes and reel-to-reel tape must be why it takes them so long to answer questions.
I suppose the wristwatch videophones weren't far off the mark, but who'd have predicted that teenagers would prefer texting? The purple hair was insightful, but of course they had to go and screw it up by giving everyone the same purple hair.
But the funniest thing to me -- the most anachronistic -- is that in these futuristic programs, they're all still smoking!