Wary as I am of such nerd-herding events as Consumer Electronics Shows, the vast and promising expanse of a weekday off work propelled me to the event regardless. It seemed like a pretty cool event.
Yet I was quick to discover this was by and large to be populated by vaguely outdated gadgets with internet connectivity (yawn), and a flock of anxious technology magazine publishers, doing their best to earnestly flog their back issues at ridiculously inflated prices with the aid of female lycra-clad cash register operators.
Unfortunately for the publishers, these pitifully small numbers of transactions could only take place when the catastrophically disturbing Panasonic display quieted down. Which wasn’t a lot. In fact, the whole show was really a small number of booths clustered around one enormous darkened, smoke-machine-clogged mysterious expanse peppered with Panasonic’s various consumer electronics products:
Panasonic Zone o’ Chaos denoted by exorcist-projectile-bile green
It was also goddamn noisy, with random booming military-style orders barked forth through the loudspeakers in the exhibit, reverberating throughout the entire hall. These yelled orders dispersed amongst thumping trance music caused confused spectators lost within the exhibit to jerk around in fright, stunned like rabbits on a highway between the strobe lights, hissing smoke machines, booming home theatre systems and gigantor walls with “hacker” images projected onto them.
I sought refuge within the slightly less chaotic Sony exhibit, which featured their little trademark Consumer Electronics showpony, the confusing Aibo robotic dog. As wobbly nerd boys hustled around a makeshift “playpen” in which the dog bleeped rather halfheartedly and followed a pink ball around, it struck me just how similar Aibo was to most attendees at the event. Slow to move around due to the weight they were carrying, an attention span of less than five seconds, and immediate attractions to anything electronic, bright and shiny.
Evacuating the area and finding myself within an Alpha Romeo display by accident, I looked on at one of the cars with fleeting interest when two pairs of silicone implants bundled into string bikinis sidled up to me.
“These are very fast cars!” they giggled and waggled themselves suggestively at me, obviously hoping my genitalia would commence operation of my thought processes, and associate totty with Alpha Romeo.
“I eat scrotum!” I snapped, already aggravated by the confusing state of affairs in general at the show.
Seeking an escape away from the roaringly loud Panasonic installation (now seeking to demonstrate the volcanic power of their audio system by proving that it’s possible to disjoint parts of your skeletal system with bad house music alone), I snuck up a small side path of tormented-looking small vendors. After having already been exposed to so many flashing lights and relentless techno curios, these grey gadgets failed to catch my curiosity; although the staff did their best to thrust informative pamphlets in my hand as I passed. Interestingly, a lot of the signs on the booths for these companies boasted product features which all sounded like something printed on a blank cassette tape. You know, taglines such as “HIGH SPEED ULTRA WINDING MECHANISM WITH X2″ which really means nothing at all. Then again, who knows where blank cassette tapes would be without high speed ultra winding mechanisms with X2?
Realising that I’d circumnavigated my way around all of the exhibits, there was only one hurdle left to conquer: the dreaded Panasonic exhibit. Hesitantly poking my way into the room the electronics giant had claimed as its own, a boggling display of performance art commenced.
A man and two women clad only in foil with headsets attached began running around the room at high speed, screaming about how great Panasonic was and that they were embracing Panasonic Power. Not only was this broadcast through the near-deafening audio system, but built-in handycams on their space-costume helmets broadcasted their vision across the two-storey walls in the room. This made for a very confusing and dizzying situation.
As the darkened room was accentuated with stuttering lights and a smoke machine graciously choked everyone with more pollution, the three space cadets clambered up a spray-painted ladder onto a tower with Panasonic products piled at the top. From this vantage point, they screamed insane product taglines until we were all stunned into vegetable-like dazes. It was at this point their instructions became even more puzzling.
Lines such as, “Panasonic entertainment systems, OR BAD, POOR QUALITY, AUDIO DEATH!”, and “Work too hard using bad computers, YOU CAN DIE! ONLY USE PANASONIC INSTEAD!” They then appeared to try and make love to each other to the beat of an Aphex Twin song.
This was when I began to consider that the concept was quite genius. Confuse everyone into a hypnotically suggestive state, then fill their minds with Panasonic propaganda.
However, the three wackos managed to confuse me even further with their next insistently screamed line: “ABORT ALL SALES! ABORT ALL SALES!”, as images of Panasonic’s electronics lines were flashed across the screens in the vicinity.
Next, they donned old-fashioned rabbit-ears TV antennas on their heads, then scampered away into a hidden recess of the tower. The audio system then commenced a screaming soundtrack which sounded like a myriad of depressed loners singing their suicide notes aloud in unison to frantic drum ‘n’ bass.
It was all beginning to get to me, so I sought an escape via the LG display. An enthusiastic salesman nearby boomed out ‘Who wants their photograph taken with the LG internet FRIDGE!?’ This was followed by frenzied screaming and clambering amongst the riveted crowd present.
The Consumer Electronics Show: it was pants.