Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.10.2012, Síða 21

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ELDING WHALE WATCHING
from Reykjavík
LoveStar
by Andri Snær Magnason
CHAPTER 1: A CORDLESS MODERN MAN
The cordless modern world had as little as possible to do with cords and cables
— not that they were called cords or cables anymore. They were known as
chains, and gadgets were known as weights or burdens. People looked at the
chains and burdens of the past and thanked their lucky stars. In the old days,
people said, we were wire-slaves chained to the office chair, far from birdsong
and sunshine. But things had changed. When men in suits talked to themselves
out in the street and reeled off figures, no one took them for lunatics: they were
probably doing business with some unseen client. The man who sat in rapt
concentration on a riverbank might be an engineer designing a bridge. When
a sunbathing woman piped up out of the blue that she wanted to buy a two-ton
cod quota, bystanders wouldn’t automatically assume this was addressed to
them, and when a teenager made strange humming noises on the bus, nodding
his head to and fro, he was probably listening to an invisible radio. The man
who breathed rapidly or got an erection at an inappropriate time and place prob-
ably had his visual nerve connected to some hard-core material or was listening
to a sex line. (There was no limit to the filth that f looded through the connected
minds of some people, but of course it was impossible to ban them from filling
their heads with obscenity and violence. You might as well ban thinking.) If
someone stood beside you and asked: “What time is it?” and you answered right
away: “It’s half past nine,” the person would respond, even though there was no
one else in sight: “Thanks, but I wasn’t talking to you.”
Indridi Haraldsson was a cordless modern man, so the average person could
not tell if he was going mad or not. When he spoke to himself in public there
might be someone on the other end of the line. When he laughed and laughed
it might be for the same reason, or he might be listening to a comedy station, or
he could have a funny video playing
on the lens. In fact it was impossible to
tell what was going on in his head but
there was no reason why it should be
anything abnormal.
If he ran down the street shout-
ing: “The end of the world is here!
The end of the world is here!” most
people assumed he was taking part
in a radio station competition for a
prize of free hamburgers. When he
rode naked up and down the shopping
center escalator seven times in a row
people assumed something similar. It
was difficult to tell what prize he was
competing for because he was naked
and people could only guess his target
group from his hairstyle, age, and
physical build. Indridi was twenty-
one, thin, and pale-skinned, with fair,
dishevelled hair, so he was definitely not the target audience of a radio station
that advertised bodybuilding, sports cars, highlights, and solariums. He had no
tattoos or piercings, so he wasn’t the target of the station that played rock and
punk and advertised raw beer, unfiltered moonshine, and high tar cigarettes.
He was naked and unkempt and definitely didn’t belong to any of the more so-
ber target groups. Maybe he was a performance artist. Artists were always busy
performing. Perhaps the escalator scene was worth three points on the College
of Art’s performance art course. Or he could, of course, be in an isolated minor-
ity target group. There were plenty of them around, but generally an attempt
was made to direct people into a popular area where they could be reached
more economically.
If Indridi suddenly barked at someone: “IIIIICE -COLD CO KE! IIICCCCCE
-COLD CO KE!!!” for ten seconds without his eyes or body seeming to match
his words, the reason for this behaviour was simple: the advertisements being
transmitted to him were directly connected to his speech center. People as-
sumed he must be an ad howler. He was probably broke enough to fall outside
most target groups, so it wasn’t worth sending him personal advertisements.
But it was possible to send ads through him to others by using his mouth as a
loudspeaker. Those who walked past howlers could expect an announcement
like:
“IIIIIICE -COLD COKE!”
This was more effective than conventional reminders on ad hoardings or the
radio. So when Indridi met a man on his way to the parking lot, he howled:
“FASTEN YO UR SEAT BELT ! SLOW DOWN !”
The man had been arrested for speeding without a seat belt. As a punishment
he was made to listen to and pay for two thousand edifying reminders from ad
howlers. That was probably the best thing about the new technology. It could be
used to improve society.
“LOVE THY NEIGHBOR !” howled a shady-looking man at half-hourly
intervals. A rehabilitated murderer, people would correctly assume, giving him
a wide berth. Prisoners could be released early if they howled for charities or
religious groups.
Howlers were not all broke. Many were simply scrounging for discounts
or perks, and some only became howlers for the first three months of the year
while they paid for the latest upgrade of the cordless operating system. Those
who didn’t get their system upgraded could have problems with their business
or communication. Cordless home appliances and auto door-openers only
recognized the latest system, and the same applied to the latest car models, so
they wouldn’t automatically slow down if someone with the old system crossed
the road. [This is just part of chapter one. Read the rest after it comes out on
November 13!]
21 The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 16 — 2012LITERATURE