Had John Keats been a fan of sport or soap operas on television, it is entirely possible that he might have written an ode to the couch, that most underrated piece of our furniture. One of his better-known odes begins: “My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains/My sense…” Is there a better description of a couch potato in all literature?
Of course, he then goes off on a tangent, speaking of the Dryad of the trees, which, thanks to the poem’s title, we know must refer to the Nightingale. Thus was a good opportunity lost to pay proper tribute to the couch.
But O Keats! Thou shouldst be living at this hour! For not only has the couch become the central piece in our daily lives, it has evolved beyond even our wildest dreams. Put your hands together, ladies and gentlemen, for the ultimate in home luxury: the automated couch. You no longer have to get off it to dig in the refrigerator for the leftover burger from the previous week. You can drive the couch to the fridge instead. Take that Milton! Turn green with envy Chesterton!
Nine engineering students at the University of New South Wales have designed a robotic couch that can be controlled using a standard USB gamepad. At least that’s what the PR for the couch says, and who are we to doubt the veracity of PR handouts?
For those with a mechanical/engineering bent of mind, here are some more details (most of which make no sense to me): “Featuring a custom-built steel chassis with mecanum wheels, the robocouch can reach speeds up to 15km per hour. It weighs 100kg and costs about $3,000 to put together.”
I can give you more information, but I notice a couple of audience members at the back looking longingly at the exit, so I shall desist.
Unlike the moving finger, which, as we know writes and having written moves on, the moving couch can be made to return to its spot in front of the TV. This has to be the invention of the century.
The couch potato, like the Internet hacker and Harry Potter fan, is a modern creation, and anything to make his life easier must be appreciated.
To paraphrase Groucho Marx, just give me a couch, a book, a television set and a dog. Then if the dog can go somewhere and read the book, I can watch TV.
And when it gets boring I can practise for the annual couch potato race, which will be telecast live so other couch potatoes can watch it sitting at home. On their mobile couches.
