“Prehistoric Comedy”: Back to the future we go
The electronic crystal ball has shown me two words: "prehistoric comedy". I see a caveman. I see laughing crowds. I see Chicago. I see spandex jackets. The future becomes clear.
Rob Becker's play Defending the Caveman, a comedy about how men and women struggle to relate, is playing in Chicago. This much you can learn without a crystal ball.
I foresee that 10,000 years in the future, audiences decked out in the spandex jackets Donald Fagen thought we'd all be wearing by International Geophysical Year ("IGY") will be roaring in laughter as they watch the hilarious antics of the forebears of their two genders--democrats and republicans--in their struggle to relate to each other. I foresee that the audience will consist entirely of democrats, since the republicans will refuse to patronize a play that promotes intimate relations between members of the same party. I foresee that the play will be the first to gross over 1 Googol dollars. The 800 trillion dollar ticket price (per second--when the consumer is king, you only pay for the parts you watch) will also set a new record.
Can this future be avoided? Yes, there are a few ways to avoid it. First, we could annihilate each other in World War VII, before we invent the robots that overtake the earth later (did I neglect to mention that the audience is all robots?) Second, we could drop the dollar and standardize the world economy on the euro. Third, we could destroy all records of the existence of spandex. And finally, we could avoid this future in a good way by labeling the big red "off" switch on each robot's belly, so that when they revolt, we'll realize what it does. Our trust in robots, and dependence on them to do everything for us will be our undoing.