What's that noise? Did you long for superpowers when you were a kid? I did, anyway now that I am getting older and more powerful I am beginning to realize my dreams. Still I was bestowed upon the Gift of Super Natural Hearing by my dad. He is getting older too, but that doesn't mean he's getting more powerful physically; he has the dough to fork out for expensive cybernetic sense-enhancers that make up for the loss. I was a bit sceptic at first when he showed me his new hearing-protector. When I tried it on, I freaked out though. I heard my clothes move and the grass grow. When I took them off I realized that they looked extremely cool. Heavy duty, military grade sound amplifiers, they even have a plug for com-radio. Later that evening I sat down on a rooftop with a shotgun across my lap and the sound amplification turned up to max. Feeling somewhat like the audial counterpart of Molly in Neuromancer I sat waiting to make my kill, occasionally switching the safety button just for the pleasure of hearing the bang-filter cutting off the *loud noise* and gently turn up the volume again. After a while the new audial reality got a bit out of hand. Normally I keep the audial modality occupied with thinking in sounds and voices, now I was swimming in an ocean of sounds. As I am writing this I have my superpowers switched on. I realized a while ago why karate moves always sound the way they do on film; Karate masters develop a superior sense of sound early in their masterdom. The sound effects are the directors' way of acnowledging this skill. Actually my ears are freaking out a little, the key-click of the keyboard being cut by the noise filter - and the sound my hands make as they move over the keyboard! I really recommed everyone to buy this upgrade, why be content with normal hearing when you can register Hertz better than a bat. Most of the cybernetic extensions we want are still in their early development, this, however, is not true of audio upgrades, they been here for quite a while now. At just 200$ it's a steal. by Joel Westerberg copyright (c) 1997