I'm already planning for old age. I do a lot of squats, so I'll be less likely to take a tumble in old my age -- and therefore less likely to fall over in my garden and be eaten alive by ants.
CES has taught me different. According to smart device makers here, I will fall over in my garden and, unless I'm wearing some sort of smart belt or smart watch or smart underpants, I absolutely will be eaten alive by ants.
Before I came to CES, I took my kid to the dentist. That dentist gave me an absolute shellacking for the state of my child's teeth. I had taught that poor kid some pretty terrible teeth-brushing skills. No biggie. They're just baby teeth. Let them melt with decay, see if I care. Right?
But yeah, that professional encounter did low-key force me to re-evaluate what I know about brushing teeth. Thank goodness there are smart toothbrushes at CES designed to re-educate me or bypass my ignorance altogether.
The VR movement problem can be fixed with roller skates
Look, we haven't figured it out yet. We have no idea how to move in virtual reality. Might as well strap on some roller skates called "Cyber Shoes," sit on a chair and make a complete buffoon of yourself in public at CES.
Or how about you stand on a strange disc called a 3dRudder and fight off chronic motion sickness while navigating a 3D space in the most unnatural way possible?
Brilliant. We're solving problems here at CES in the year 2019.
Not all cat people are weird, but let's just say there's a subset of human beings who will buy the Lavviebot. They will buy it, and they will use it to its fullest capability. They will certainly enjoy the convenience of a self-cleaning kitty litter box.
An app will then ask if they want to opt-in to a service that notifies them when their cat has pooped, and they will tick "yes" to that box.
2019 is an interesting year to be a member of the human race.
Smart toilets can evaluate my poop and I'm OK with that
As soon as we started making smart household devices, the countdown was on. I knew this would happen. I knew this would go from the parody pages of The Onion to reality, and I knew it would happen fast.
I've been mentally preparing for smart toilets for years because it was obvious. So obvious that we would want a smart toilet to dissect our poop. So obvious that the data would be sent to doctors to pore over. I'm cool with it.
Maybe this Kohler toilet will help me achieve my lifelong goal of a consistent number three on the Bristol Stool Chart.
Today I was getting professionally made up before going on the CNET stage, and the makeup lady told me I had "nice" skin. I am not being dramatic when I say I have absolutely been waiting my whole life for someone to acknowledge my glowing complexion.
I've got two boys. I've changed my fair share of nappies. I've smelt my fair share of nappies. If you can't tell whether your kid has done a poop without using some sort of bizarre smart device, you've got problems. Poopy problems.
Look, there are a few use case scenarios here. Maybe you can't smell? Maybe you're too lazy to do the sneaky poop peak parents do when they suspect their child has squeezed one out on the fly. I dunno. This seems insane.
The smart assistant battles will outlast the heat death of the universe
The Earth will turn to ash. The sun will swallow us whole. Our consciousness will become legion, and we will travel across the endless void as star dust. The universe will contract to the size of a pinpoint. And the last being alive, whether it be made of flesh or metal, will die a painful death screaming... "Alexa."