The year 2001 is almost at an end, and, let’s face it, it’s just not as good as the movie. Instead of ushering in a new era of intergalactic exploration, that bone tossed into the air by our alpha-monkey ancestor millions of years ago seems to have clattered to earth as little more than a Pleistocene dog toy. Need proof? Consider how far we fall short of the world pictured in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

2001: The Movie

People on space flights served by stewardesses in bulbous turbans.

Flights feature a wide range of foods, all of which can be sucked through a straw.

State-of-the-art videophones allow you to call from outer space to earth for $1.70 for five minutes.

Interstellar excursions accompanied by the stirring strains of Strauss.

Scientists come upon black slab that holds the key to universal communication.

Computer-monitored hibernation during lengthy space voyages prolongs life.

We are monitored by a diabolical computer with one blinking eye who lives in a spaceship.

There are 12 channels of news programming.

2001: The Year

People wearing turbans frequently not allowed to fly.

Flights feature a limited range of foods, all of which suck.

Miss Cleo allows you to talk to the stars for $9.95 a minute.

Elevator rides smothered in smooth jazz.

Scientists still haven’t come up with a short, black “universal remote” that can turn off the VCR without also turning off the TV.

The Internet compensates for lack of a life.

We are monopolized by a diabolical computer whiz with two unblinking eyes who lives in Seattle.

OK, we win on this one.

Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): illustration/Russ Ando.