FWR has a tale to tell of invention and reflection
I stood, rather self-consciously, as the cultured voice of the tiny headset in my left ear requested that I remain silent for a few seconds during upload and to look directly at the camera in the O of the logo etched into the device.
The device in question resembled a cross between an old fashioned mirror and a flat screen monitor, I obediently stared at the RezOlution logo and waited for the next prompt from my Christmas present.
I am by nature one of life's second guessers, a worrier, regularly haunted by the what ifs and shoulda, woulda, coulda night-time doubts. My wife had obviously had enough of the twenty year bombardment of 'Do You Think I...?' Questions and had decided to buy me the one present no worrier could do without; the brand new, must have invention of the century, the 'Rez'.
A device that plugged itself into your deepest thoughts, impulses and memories, cross referenced any given question or doubt with its vast database of philosophy, psychology and conflict resolution programmes, weighed up possible solutions against your own personality and ability, then, and this is why they are so bloody expensive; gives you an answer from a cgi image of yourself in the mirror!
'System configured, welcome to RezOlution, please input your dilemna,' the smooth voice coaxed.
I cracked my mental knuckles and tried to think of a smart-aleck question to try Rez out.
'What will the winning lottery numbers be this week?' I smiled at the greyed out imaged of myself.
The screen brightened, showing my reflection dressed in a carnival fortune teller's outfit. You cannot know the outcome of this problem, therefore you cannot answer your own question. Please input only personal issues, you are NOT a fortune teller!'
Ok, fair enough, I smiled. Fair answer, and the graphics were AWESOME!
I inputted a problem, a real problem that had been troubling me lately and stared at the magic mirror.
I was slightly shocked when my reflection tutted at me, shook its (my) head then reached out of screen and produced a very large carving knife and calmly cut my nose off, my hands leapt to my face, relieved that the real life appendage was still intact, as through the mirrored blood dripping into my mouth my image blasted me with a stream of insults as it morphed into baby me throwing a teddy out of its cot.
'You're a complete dick, mate, an absolute idiot, throwing something away that you love just because you can't be right all the time...self centred idiot, grow a pair and admit you were wrong!'
The images continued their tirade until I hit pause and frantically consulted the heavy tome that was the instruction manual. I found the subj/obj slider on the rear of the screen, slid it to the right and tried again.
This time my image appeared in full Samurai costume, katana drawn and rage in my eyes.
'You have been gravely dishonoured, the only outcome is to seek revenge on those worms that have dared insult your greatness.' My reflection morphed into a western gunslinger: 'draw a line, son. – find a tall tree and git some rope and make a stand, partner!'
I hit pause again, maybe a bit too far right with the slider!
Mid point, and I was me again.
'Take a breath, try and see the other side of the argument from their viewpoint and meet somewhere in the middle buddy, life's too short, mate. Do you really want to give this up? If so, walk away. If not, do something about it, but don't let hotheaded impulses make your mind up, as with everything in your life, bro; the choice is truly yours/'
I unplugged the Rez, reset it to factory settings and repackaged the device. I would buy my wife something nice with the refund.
Sometimes you don't need a magic mirror to tell you what's obvious....just some time for a little self reflection.