Humour

Wonderwear for CIOs

T A Balasubramanian’s report on a fashion pageant with a difference.

Puffing and huffing with the exertion of walking long distances, you are heading deeper into the crowds at the Techno Over-exposition of Geeks and Gizmos for Lazy Enterprises (TOGGLE).

You, Papyrus Bytewala, CIO of Baffle Corporation, struggle to keep pace with the seemingly inexhaustible Danny DeVito, your CTO, who is currently assigned to be your charge and accompanying humanoid as you take him on an educative tour of the huge IT trade fair.

“Slow down, Danny,” you say, finally, stopping to catch your breath. “This is an immersive experience for you, no doubt, in the business, but it’s time we take a break, you know.”

“A break?” says DeVito, with a puzzled frown. “Why would you need to break? Is that a short form of breakdown?”

“No, not that kind of break. I mean, we need to pause and rest.”

“What for?”

“Well, we organic beings are not exactly built like horses or humanoids with steel frames inside, you know. We have aching feet and muscles that need to be relaxed after we move around a lot. Otherwise, I might just flop down here and pass out with exhaustion.”

“Seems a waste of time to me,” says DeVito, scratching his bald head. “Nevertheless, I will slow down for you, as a special favour. Muscles need to rest, eh? Now that is something I will put down as another human peculiarity. You cannot carry on processing for too long on your feet, eh? We biped humanoids are not built to slow down or rest, especially when we are in the middle of such exciting happenings here.”

You are startled, but not too much, of course. DeVito is not made of the same raw materials that humans are made of, so how would he make sense of exhaustion? For many hyperactive humans caught up in the whirling, frenzied world of technology, such an innate ability to carry on loping around with endless bouts of energy, fed, no doubt, by streaming coffee-and-pizza backups, would not be a liability or an oddity. Bug-eyed programmers have the dubious ability to carry on coding without a break for days, sometimes falling asleep on their keyboards. Engineers, like the Energizer Bunny, seem to thrive on live-wire assignments, burning themselves up on ludicrous projects without catching a wink of sleep. But this was a mere tradeshow, not a madcap assignment with looming deadlines, and humans, especially CIOs of a certain age, like you, are not challenged to zoom around in these vast open spaces at top speed like gazelles on an African plain.

So you find it prudent to get DeVito, the biped humanoid, to step off his accelerator. “Well, Danny, I’m glad you are willing to let an old CIO like me hang around with you. Even if it means having to walk along at a sedate pace.”

As you slow down, you hear an announcement from the speakers hung up on strategic poles in the area. The news is that there is a fashion event about to happen at Geek Streak, a specially designed central podium in the convention hall bang in middle of the show. It is enough to start what appears to be a mass migration of all kinds of goggle-eyed visitors. You join the mesmerised herds elbowing past you and DeVito, and arrive with time to spare. But you and the people who staked out chairs near the ramp an hour before are in for a surprise. Instead of catching a glimpse of models or fashion celebrities, you are treated to the spectacle of shaggy-haired men tinkering with circuit boards on a table littered with cables and electrical tape.

“Are these the models?” says DeVito, agog with excitement.

“Well, they certainly look chic in a retro way,” you say, wondering if you have landed in the wrong hall. But in one sense, these men are the show, at least until the seductively-clad models appear, much to the relief of the assembled gaping crowd.

Several leggy girls, looking like tall bottles wearing ultra-slim gowns and skirts, are loaded with gadgets: small plastic display devices are attached to their eyeglasses and arms, cables hang behind their ears, and an antenna sticks out of their light-weight helmet hats. Each model carries a sleek metallic computer like a waitress carrying a tray, with a wireless modem in a black side pack. A handheld keypad, called a Twiddler, hangs at their sides.

Next on the ramp is a popular figure, a man called Dr Peter Phinger, who considers himself one of the world’s first cyborgs. The term, an acronym for cybernetic organism, refers to a being that is part machine, part human. The cyborgs of today, who call themselves borgs for short, wear their computers almost continuously.

Dr Phinger has been fully wired since getting dressed that morning. Having his computer on means that he can display electronic mail messages, Web pages or digital documents in front of his eyes, anytime, anywhere. With the Twiddler, which fits comfortably in one hand, he can send e-mail and compose letters.

In the last six years, he says he has not used a desktop computer. He claims that he wrote his entire 250-page doctoral thesis using the wearable computer, typing with the Twiddler while pacing around his sun porch.

“‘Instead of a computer at my desk, I have a couch,”’ Dr Phinger says to the awe-stricken envious crowd who expect no less than such an inspiring message from their fashion supermodel. “‘That’s where I do all my paper writing and problem sets.’’

Two other borgs are with him: Pod Pointer, 21, and Dolly Digital, 28, both students at the Borgia Institute of Technology, founded by Dr Phinger’s grandfather, the famous Dr Middle Phinger. The three of them, accompanied by the leggy models who are also their friends and faculty members, have come to TOGGLE to demonstrate the benefits of wearable computers. Dr Phinger is also co-founder of Borgia, a company that opened shop with the mission of bringing wearable computing to the marketplace, and here they were, under the banner of Geek Streak.

“How did you get interested in these lines?” you ask Dr Phinger, as he twiddles his Twiddler and sets his browser up in mid-air.

“I got sick of having to pack together everything I need to work and play in belts and pockets and bags along with anything I wear,” says the man with the most go-go gadgets on his body. “The best thing about wearable computing is that it takes away the need to pack when you move.”

“Well, in my case, the computer is already packed inside me,” says DeVito, forgetting himself for the moment, making you prod his shoulder quickly with a stiff thumb.

“What he means is that he’s always ready with his luggage,” you intervene loudly, with a laugh.

“In addition to showing off our new line of contraptions,” says Dr Phinger, who seems pleased with all the attention he is getting while he is sending off an e-mail from his sleeve as he talks, our company executives are helping to coordinate a series of high-powered fashion shows such as this one.”

“When will we be able to buy a wearable PC?” says DeVito, obviously smitten by the showman.

“It all depends on how badly you guys want to wear one,” says Dr Phinger, smirking. “Right now, Geek Streak fashion events are designed to spread the gospel of the borg and to raise money for Borgia through corporate sponsorships.”

“You can count on Baffle Corporation for a donation,” you promise.