Sky’s the Limit

Dan Neil checks out the Sky Mall. An excerpt:

And so, deprived of my usual carry-on, I arrived at what is surely a universal moment for air travelers: flipping through the glossy pages—remote control toy shark, laser-guided pool cue and, of course, the comically dangerous lawn aerator sandals—wondering: Who the hell buys this junk? Honestly, your Maslow hierarchy of needs would have to be a mile high before you could find yourself craving a dedicated bug vacuum with gel-filled “kill” cartridges. If you’re considering ordering the replica of the Evenstar Pendant of Arwen (“The Lord of the Rings”), it’s almost a certainty your mom drove you to the airport.

A sense of superiority comes easy, and that’s part of the pleasure of Sky Mall. In the copy for a corn-dog cooker, we’re advised the device can fry other things, too, like “Twinkies, Snickers bars.” Just be sure not to burn down the trailer. And yet, I can’t help admiring Sky Mall, or at least the hyper-prosperity of the society from which it arises. This cornucopia of crapola reflects a certain collective genius, and an astonishing rate of technical dissemination. Flexible rollout keyboards, wrap-around eyewear that plays iPod videos, electronic pens that translate type from other languages, fingerprint-reading door locks—all this stuff was science fiction a decade ago.