Low tide — The end of Google Wave — Plus a short work of fiction!
The Google Wave experiment has dried up.
Yesterday on the official Google blog the company announced that “Wave has not seen the user adoption we would have liked.” As a result, Google will no longer develop “Wave as a standalone product, but we will maintain the site at least through the end of the year and extend the technology for use in other Google projects.”
I’ll never forget all the hullabaloo Wave created last fall. If you weren’t a Wave beta tester you were like that kid with lice who was banned from the sandbox. While me and thousands of other kids scratched away, the cool kids got to play with Google’s new toy, a real-time communicator.
After some long, lonely nights, someone was kind enough to send me a beta invitation. It was like I found a golden ticket while getting my head shaved.
For a solid three of four weeks, I was obsessed with Wave. I sent out some more beta invitations and wrote this spectacular short story with Doxtad. It’s unfinished and uncut but maybe you all would appreciate it.
Mars stunk, Captain Teacup thought, as his air whooshed out of the tiny hole in his spacesuit. Things were better at home on Earth where everything was nice, he thought. There was air to breathe and you weren’t in constant danger of having your face sucked out of a hole in your spacesuit. Of course, what Teacup didn’t know was that back home a virus had gone around turning a quarter of the planet into brain-devouring zombies and that cities were on fire, people were looting, and most of the governments had shuttered their doors to hide out in underground bunkers.
“Big problem here guys,” Teacup shouted into his intercom.
“Uhh,” NASA responded, “We’ve sorta got our own problems right now.”
“Hole in my suit,” Teacup shouted.
“Zombies,” NASA replied.
Fucking piece of shit solar system, Teacup thought.
“Zombies? Jesus Christ,” he yelled, pressing down tight on the hole.
“NASA, I need, I need you to. Sonuvabitch.”Teacup opened his visor. Earth looked just like it did in the textbooks. He thought about Ewok’s, Super Nintendo and gigantic breasts. He reached for his shoes and undid the laces.
This is gonna have to do it, he thought.
He bunched up the hole and wrapped the shoelace around it. Sweat dripped down his forehead.
“NASA” he yelled. “I plugged it up, I got it done.”
No one responded.
He took one last look at earth, threw down his visor and switched radio frequencies.
“FAL, open the pod bay doors.”
“Suck it, Teacup,” FAL responded.
“You better, so help me god, you fucking IBM glorified-cash register. I will smash you.”
The pod bay doors opened.
Finally, thought Teacup. He started on his way back to the ship.
“Thank you FA–” he said as the doors closed.
The zombie apocalypse was upon them, but the porn must go on, Rod Johnson thought, as he dropped his towel and walked into the gangbang.
“Alright girls, boom boom pow time. Comprende?”
Rod took scope of the room. A dozen naked women. A few cameramen. A zombie in the corner eating the director’s brains. People were freaking out.
Johnson wished he wasn’t naked.
Trevor Soggybottom was the star on his high school chess team.
While playing chess in the gym one afternoon, Principal Baker, now a raving zombie, came up and jammed the queen in Soggybottoms eye.
“Check mate,” gnarled Baker.