The online edition of Empire magazine recently carried a short item speculating that the Terminator franchise could get a much-needed reboot when the rights revert to original director James Cameron, who is spitballing new ideas with respected sci-fi writers.
Well, I'm neither respected nor a sci-fi writer – though many people claim I occupy a richly populated fantasy world deserving of cinematic treatment. Anyway, if Mr Cameron is listening, I'd like him to know that the science fiction future envisioned by the Terminator movies has it all wrong.
As I see it, mankind won’t be overcome by a mechanical assault co-ordinated by a worldwide Skynet technology. Instead, the machines that govern our lives and allow us to manage our humdrum affairs will, one by one, break down or underperform, leaving us to fend for ourselves when it comes to household chores, interpersonal communications, and basic transportation.
As proof, I offer the unsettling scenario that has been playing out in our Dublin home in recent weeks.
The first device to register its discontent with the status quo was our washing machine, a mid-range model purchased new only six months before. It’s under warranty, thankfully, but arranging a succession of service calls still took time and effort better expended on essential human endeavours such as binge-watching Netflix.
These inconvenient plot twists never happen in the movies. Your top-of-the-line Terminator, for example, is composed entirely of a "mimetic polyalloy", allowing for rapid shape-shifting, near-perfect mimicry, and instantaneous recovery from damage. All very desirable qualities, but I'm sure that kind of technology would push most appliances beyond the reach of the common consumer, not to mention make the average household a pretty scary place.
Annoying vibration
Back in the real world, three visits by authorised repairmen were needed to fine-tune a machine that should never have left the factory floor. Fault number one was a loose bolt connecting the drum to the frame. When this was fixed, an annoying vibration persisted. The cause was a missing screw at the base. Both kind of important in a machine that spins wet clothes at 1200 rpm.
One of the repairmen said he saw problems like this all the time. To be honest, I was disappointed. I’d convinced myself that our machine was the Skynet Employee of the Month.
With our laundry needs sorted, I was looking forward to at least a temporary truce. No such luck. The next machine to rebel was our vacuum cleaner, an appliance I wished would suck but which steadfastly refused to. Granted, it was a ridiculously inexpensive model, a stopgap plugged into service while I researched a hardier machine. The clerk’s reaction when I brought it to the counter should have alerted me to its limitations. “Are you sure now?” he’d said.
I stuck with it for longer than I should have mainly because I’m a cheapskate. With each successful use after the first month, I was getting added value. But I was also running out of duct tape to keep the hose in place and the attachments in working order.
When it became apparent I was spending more time comforting the machine than hoovering with it, I visited our local recycle centre and left it there. But not without experiencing a small measure of guilt and regret as I drove home. Our carpets and floors are now sucked clean by a Dyson wannabe that I'm still not convinced I'm worthy of. I expect to see it in a supporting role in the next Terminator film.
When it appeared peace had finally broken out, our 11-year-old car started making noises that indicated she wasn’t entirely happy with her lot in life. “Easy, girl.” That’s me, carefully caressing the dash. “Excuse me?” That’s my wife, intruding on a man’s most intimate relationship outside of marriage.
Front brakes
Unfortunately, our 2006 Nissan is no self-repairing cyborg, so I brought her for a service, thinking a bit of tweaking would suffice. New front brakes and a re-fit engine mount later – not to mention several litres of fresh lubricant – and she seems happier. Seven hundred euros’ worth of parts and labour can help lift your mood that way.
Come to think of it: Maybe that’s something John Connor and the Resistance have been overlooking in their struggle against the machines. Maybe all that’s needed to keep Skynet in check is a regularly scheduled tune-up and a few kind words.