3The Anti-Depression Magnet
Depression and the various ailments that spring from it are the scourge of modern society. Sure, most of us get the blues every now and again, but when things really go off the rails, that shit goes clinical. Clinical depression is a dead serious thing that goes way beyond listening to shitty country ballads and sulking, deeply affecting the life of the person and likely everyone they're close to.
And here's the problem: Depression is a bitch to treat. Even in fictional universes where they have beams that instantly heal wounds, they'd never depict some kind of invisible depression-curing ray that they could just shoot at your brain.
The Sci-Fi Solution:
Well, here it is:
Nothing treats depression like a dentist's chair attached to a bewildering array of soulless machines.
The secret is magnets, and we're not talking about the pseudoscience bullshit magnetic bracelets that are intended to cure your arthritis. This is no placebo, this is transcranial magnetic stimulation, where a patient's head is exposed to a powerful electromagnet that stimulates the mood-controlling areas of the brain. The principle isn't that much different from electroshock therapy, only without the electrodes and without so many patients running away screaming at the mention of it.
"You take the treatment or we will beat the fucking depression out of you!"
And experiments show it apparently works. Once they figured out a way to perform tests in a reliable way (which was, for some reason, bombarding everyone's brain with electric shocks to mask the magnet), the magnet proved its effectiveness and is currently getting tweaked for widespread use. And it'll be available pretty damn soon, considering the fact that magnetic therapy devices have already been approved by the FDA.
Let's face it: America, as a nation, is so fat we can't even get insulted by the jokes other countries make about our moms. Of course her belt is the equator. How else would she keep her pants from falling down?
If we could cut down on the Midwest we might finally be able to draw our Bible belt in a few notches.
Along with obesity comes diabetes, a bitch of a disease that basically stops us from eating what we want ... or else. Today, diabetes is as big a part of America as apple pie and baseball, and it's not shy about showing it: According to this 2008 article, old 'beetus costs us a whopping $174 billion a year, every year. For reference, the utter carnage that was Hurricane Katrina cost us a grand total of $150 billion, and at least it had the decency to only happen once.
That's more than the entire 2010 Air Force budget.
One of the biggest things to prevent the "or else" effects of diabetes from happening, thus wrecking our wallets and health, is monitoring the blood glucose level of patients. But this requires you to lug around one of those glucose meters, and punch a hole in your skin to draw a tiny blood sample every time.
The Sci-Fi Solution:
What if you had the meter always with you, and it made you look badass to boot? The researchers at MIT asked themselves this question and, somehow, came up with a solution with that rarest demographic of all, the health-conscious biker, in mind. Yes, we're talking about goddamn tattoos here, and yes, they will monitor your blood for you.
"My elbow says it's time for a cookie, bitch!"
Nano-ink tattoos are just like the average dolphins and skulls your average tattoo parlor offers, save for one thing: They continuously check the blood glucose levels of diabetics. The nano-ink that is hacked into your skin eliminates the need for pricking your finger several times a day, which is a big reason people neglect their monitoring. When the tattoo detects glucose, it tells you with a fluorescent glow that is visible under ultraviolet light, thus making you the hit of the rave party as well as the biker bar.
The only device you need to have with you is a wrist watch that is equipped with a UV flashlight and a reader that turns the glow into a normal blood sugar readout on its display. But what if you suffer the classic fate of a person with a new tattoo, and realize that you hate that inexpertly drawn anchor in your bicep? Not a problem -- nano ink dissolves without a trace in months. The tattoo needs to be renewed every six months, so next time, you can get a completely different picture.
"Next month, I'm getting 'WHORE' on my lower back."