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On the tech days of Christmas, my devices gave to me…

It’s nearly Christmas and so it’s time for the traditional sing song about everything tech-wise that’s going to shortly go horribly wrong. So without further ado: On the tech days of Christmas, my gadgets gave to me…

Twelve forecasts numbing any sense of joy, because weather apps will flirt with it snowing on the big day, then change their minds and suggest it’ll be sunny and frosty, only for it to end up being grey and rainy all day.

Eleven kinsfolk sniping, having been left outside in the cold for longer than necessary, on account of the wireless doorbell, when prodded, inexplicably deciding not to alert anyone inside the warm and cosy house. Ding dong? Ring: wrong.

Ten updates? Weeping! Every smart gadget decides it wants a holiday. And so refuses to work. The fancy new Christmas lights inexplicably demand a firmware update and will resolutely refuse to turn on until the second you go to take them down in January.

Nine downloads advancing, after a frenzy of wrapping paper reveals new devices. The second they’re activated, they demand to be updated too. The time before a new games console will be ready is estimated to be 2027. As in the year, not the hour.

This took far too long to write…

Marginally more appropriate for the holidays than Rage Against the Machine.

Eight batteries missing! While everyone waits for their devices to update, smaller gadgets and tech toys are removed from boxes. Everyone quickly discovers what ‘batteries not included’ means. And also new battery types they never knew existed, meaning there aren’t any stashed in a kitchen drawer.

Seven speakers ringing – along with ears, when a Christmas music playlist inexplicably follows Frosty the Snowman with Rage Against the Machine’s Killing in the Name, thereby making granny faint. (Or, more worryingly, jump on the table and start yelling the lyrics.)

Six cooking aids spraying – in a literal and figurative sense. The air fryer somehow starts spurting gravy. And the digital thermometer reports the turkey is raw until precisely ten minutes after it’s been transformed into a massive lump of charcoal.

Five pho-ones sing! Constantly. Over lunch. “I just have to…” is muttered before people dive into conversations online, forgetting there are real, live people sitting around the table to talk to. Some of those phone chats are even between people at the table.

Don’t worry – it’s nearly over

Don’t jump around like Blur, if you know what’s good for you.

Four TV turds is this year’s evaluation once you – full of food, wine and rage – have trudged your way through the big recommended shows of the day. Except Doctor Who, because the resident biggest ‘fan’ refuses to believe it exists post-1989 and vetoes everyone watching it.

Three dated trends are taken on as the family decides to close out the evening with an ill-advised stab at karaoke. Famous songs are destroyed in a frenzy of shouting and showboating. Uncle Harold does himself an injury doing Blur-style leaps during a terrifying rendition of Song Two. 

Two cable flubs as relatives with old iPhones take home your USB-C cables and leave their Lightning ones behind, which don’t fit your family’s new iPhone and Samsung S23. No-one realises this until too late, and so everyone awakes in the morning with yet another tech headache, along with an actual headache. (That wine! That karaoke!)

And a random gift in Barton-on-Sea. Having finally found a charger, you discover where that gift Auntie Mabel in Australia sent in October got to. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough for a courier to throw it into a nearby hedge before the next holiday season.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

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