Tomorrow's World -- that slightly eccentric, and now defunct, BBC TV program that used to beam the future of stuff into our living rooms on a Wednesday night -- has a lot to answer for. Not only did it present British ingenuity as charmingly bonkers -- lamp-post-painting machines that never saw the light to high-tech hovercraft that sucked -- it promised a future that was like all the good bits of Blake's Seven. Here were some of the things I was looking forward to. Non-iron shirts. Personal jetpacks. Three-course meals in pill form. Flying cars. Space hotels. The ability to download our memories into some übernet and merge into one, collective consciousness. Small things, really.