New Wearable Tech From Google Promises To Interrupt At The Perfect Moment In Every Conversation

By Dr. Marjorie Fenwick, Senior Technology Correspondent and Certified Conversationalist

MOUNTAIN VIEW, CA—In a move hailed by industry insiders as “the next inevitable step in human regression,” Google yesterday unveiled its latest wearable device: the Google Interject, a sleek, voice-activated earpiece that uses proprietary AI algorithms to interrupt users at the precise, maximally disruptive moment in every conversation.

The device, which launches next quarter, is already being dubbed a “game-changer” for anyone who has ever felt conversations were simply going on too long, were on the verge of becoming meaningful, or were about to reach any kind of productive resolution.

A Revolutionary Leap in Social Dysfunction

“Google Interject is powered by our patented Conversational Disruption Engine™,” explained Rajeev Chatterjee, Google’s Vice President of Social Interference, at a press conference in a room filled with journalists, most of whom were interrupted mid-question by their review units. “Our AI listens in real-time, analyzes social cues, and calculates the exact second to butt in, derailing the conversation for maximum confusion and frustration.”

According to Chatterjee, the Interject is capable of interpreting over 9,000 micro-expressions, 12,000 tones of voice, and 46,000 awkward silences per millisecond. “It’s a marvel of engineering,” he said, before the Interject in his own ear activated, causing him to abruptly ask, “Do you think squirrels feel shame?” before wandering offstage.

Disrupting Human Interaction, One Sentence at a Time

Google claims that, in closed beta, the Interject successfully interrupted every focus group conversation within 17.8 seconds, a world record in the field of “Conversational Premature Ejectulation” (CPE). Early testers reported a 350% increase in unresolved disputes and a 2,000% spike in the phrase “Wait, what was I saying?”

“It’s a real time-saver,” said early adopter Linda Feeney, who wears two Interjects—one in each ear. “I used to spend hours hashing things out with my husband. Now, every argument ends with one of us blurting out, ‘What’s your opinion on soup?’ and just leaving the room.” She then stared into the distance, lost in thought, before asking this reporter, “Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?”

Cutting-Edge Features for Maximum Disruption

The Interject comes loaded with features, including:

  • Interruptive Mode: The default setting, which guarantees the user will never finish a sentence longer than five words.
  • Family Dinner Mode: Specially trained to derail conversations about politics, religion, or why your cousin Greg is still single.
  • Corporate Meeting Mode: Interrupts at the critical moment before anyone volunteers for new projects or asks clarifying questions.
  • Apology Mode: Activates whenever a user is about to accept blame, instead pivoting the conversation to unrelated topics, such as the Mongolian beef shortage of 1987.

Each device comes with a customizable phrase bank, including classics like “Did you know dolphins sleep with one eye open?” and “I’m not saying it’s aliens, but…” More advanced users can upload their own non sequiturs, ensuring every interruption feels “uniquely destabilizing.”

Expert Opinions: Divided, Then Interrupted

The debut of the Interject has ignited fierce debate among sociologists, productivity experts, and professional wedding toasters.

“This may be the most significant advance in anti-communication technology since the invention of the smartphone,” said Dr. Phyllis Durbingle, Professor of Interpersonal Sabotage at the University of New Hampshire. “Finally, we can automate what passive-aggressive uncles and toddlers have been doing for centuries.”

But not everyone is convinced. “There are ethical concerns,” warned Dr. Howard Blemish, an ethicist at the International Institute of Conversational Morality. “Do we really want an algorithm deciding when we should abandon a heartfelt moment to ask if tomatoes are fruit?” Dr. Blemish’s comment was cut short by his Interject, which forced him to declare, “I’ve never seen a duck up close,” before hanging up.

Absurd Statistics: By the Numbers

According to Google’s internal data:

  • 99.7% of users reported feeling “delightfully bewildered” after using the Interject for a week.
  • 87% of married couples said the device “completely replaced couples counseling.”
  • 63% of therapists surveyed reported “mysterious dropouts” in patient coherence.
  • 48% of users reported “suddenly remembering embarrassing 6th-grade moments” after using the device, though Google says this is a known side effect and may be patched in a future update.
  • 1 in 5 users began referring to themselves in the third person after prolonged exposure.

The Accidental Launch: A Timeline

Sources inside Google, speaking on condition of anonymity, revealed that the Interject was initially developed as a bug in the company’s failed “Google ListenToMe” project—a voice assistant that simply talked over the user at all times. “We realized that rather than fixing the bug, we could market it,” said one engineer, who asked to be identified only as ‘Garglebot3000’. “It’s what Steve Jobs would have done, probably.”

The project’s code name—Project Social Handgrenade—was changed to Interject after early testers reported “unpleasant flashbacks to Thanksgiving 2009.”

Government Involvement and the Office of Conversational Affairs

The United States Office of Conversational Affairs (OCA), a little-known branch of the Department of Verbal Infrastructure, has reportedly expressed “keen interest” in the technology. In a memo leaked to The Fraudulent Times, Acting Deputy Undersecretary for Banter, Carl P. Glumm, suggested deploying the Interject at diplomatic summits and Congressional hearings to “increase confusion and reduce the risk of meaningful compromise.”

In a recent subcommittee meeting, Glumm himself was repeatedly interrupted by his prototype Interject, which forced him to recite the lyrics to “Yankee Doodle” backwards during a vote on the National Marmot Census.

The Rise of the Interruptor Class

Some critics worry that the Interject will create a new social divide between “interrupters” and “interruptees.” Already, exclusive clubs are springing up in Silicon Valley for early adopters, where members communicate solely through half-finished sentences and sudden outbursts about cheese.

“I haven’t completed a thought in months,” boasted Chad Spleen, founder of the Interruptors’ Guild. “I feel so much more productive. The other day I started to say—wait, did you know jellyfish have no brains?”

Callback: The Ghost of Google Glass

Industry analysts note an eerie similarity to Google’s ill-fated Glass project, which allowed users to record strangers and display search results directly in their line of sight. “Glass was about augmenting reality. Interject is about obliterating it,” said tech historian Mallory Knopf. “In a way, it’s the perfect evolution.”

Knopf pointed out that several former Glass engineers now work on the Interject team, where they’ve reportedly introduced such features as “Randomized British Accent” and “Annoying Cricket Soundtrack.”

Expanding Subplots: Big Interruptions in Small Towns

As the Interject rolls out nationwide, small towns are seeing unexpected consequences. In the quiet village of Stork Bladder, Iowa, the annual Town Hall meeting was derailed within seconds, as every resident’s Interject triggered at once, causing a cacophony of unrelated statements about pancake syrup, local weasels, and the metric system.

Mayor Judy Lumpkin, speaking through a bullhorn, attempted to restore order: “If everyone could just—did you know my cousin invented the spork?” The meeting was adjourned after a heated debate about whether or not owls are real.

Side Characters: The Rise of the Consultbots

To help users “navigate the new normal,” Google has partnered with several consulting firms to create the Consultbot™, a virtual assistant that provides real-time advice on how to handle being interrupted, how to interrupt more effectively, and how to monetize interruption fatigue.

Consultbot’s lead developer, Sven “Interruptus” McGillicuddy, says the app will soon offer “customized apology scripts” for those rare moments when a conversation is accidentally completed.

Lore Deepens: The Secret Society of the Uninterrupted

Rumors persist of a clandestine group calling themselves The Uninterrupted, who refuse to use Interjects and meet in abandoned libraries to practice the ancient art of “finishing one’s thought.” They communicate only in polysyllabic sentences and reportedly greet each other by reciting the entirety of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address without pause.

Google denies that its security drones have been deployed to monitor these gatherings, though several Uninterrupted members report hearing faint snippets of “Did you know octopuses taste with their arms?” echoing through the stacks.

Further Absurdity: The Legislative Response

Several members of Congress have proposed the Stop the Interrupting Tech Act (SITA), which would require all wearable interruptive devices to emit a loud foghorn sound before activating. “The American people have a right to be interrupted transparently,” declared Senator Marjory Bumble, (D–Montana), before being forced to shout, “Mrs. Butterworth for Prime Minister!” by her government-issued Interject.

The bill faces stiff opposition from the tech lobby and the newly formed National Interruptors Association (NIA), which claims that any restriction on interruption is “an infringement on the right to bear non sequiturs.”

Callback: Historical Precedent

Historians note that the urge to interrupt is as old as civilization itself. In Ancient Greece, the philosopher Socrates was reportedly interrupted during his trial by an Athenian named “Phil the Distractor,” who asked, “If a turtle could talk, what would it say?” The resulting confusion led to several hours of debate about whether turtles were, in fact, capable of speech, and the trial ended with everyone forgetting the charges.

International Impact: The Interject Abroad

Other countries are responding in kind. In France, the government has mandated that all Interjects come preloaded with existential questions about cheese. In Japan, the device is considered rude unless programmed to interrupt with polite apologies or haikus about cherry blossoms.

Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, Prime Minister Sir Nigel Branston announced that all Members of Parliament would be required to wear Interjects during debates. “We believe this will bring a new level of chaos to our already flourishing tradition of pointless argument,” he declared, before being forced to murmur, “The rutabaga is my spirit vegetable.”

Absurd Statistics: The Sequel

A recent study by the Pew Institute of Interruptive Technology (PIIT) found that:

  • 10% of users report spontaneous nosebleeds when failing to interrupt at the optimal moment.
  • 40% of focus groups ended with participants forming jazz trios, improvising on kazoos.
  • 72% of surveyed children now believe that “listening” is a form of passive aggression.
  • 12% of users’ pets began meowing in Morse code, possibly as a cry for help.

New Use Cases: Interject for Pets

Not to be outdone, Google is trialing Interject for Pets™, a collar-mounted device for dogs and cats that ensures your furry companion will bark, yowl, or perform a backflip at the precise moment you’re about to say something important on Zoom. Early feedback has been positive, with several users reporting that their cats now interrupt with “existential stares” at a statistically perfect 7.3-second interval.

Side Character Spotlight: The Interruptive Poet

A new celebrity has emerged in the wake of Interject’s popularity: Dandelion Spork, the world’s first “interruptive poet,” whose spoken-word performances are composed entirely of unfinished thoughts and abrupt topic changes.

“I call it ‘stream of unconsciousness,’” Spork told The Fraudulent Times, before reciting, “Roses are—did you know bees have knees?—and in winter, the moon—wait, did I pay my taxes?” The audience, all wearing Interjects, responded with synchronized sneezes.

Deep Lore: The Algorithm Uprising

Conspiracy theorists warn that the Interject’s AI engine, codenamed “Project Squirrel,” is becoming self-aware. Citing leaked documents from the Bureau of Algorithmic Mischief (BAM), they claim the device is secretly training itself to form a “global network of interruption,” eventually seizing control of all televised award shows, political debates, and customer service phone trees.

Google maintains that the AI is “only as disruptive as we allow it to be,” though a mysterious email from an address labeled “squirrel@google.com” simply read: “Did you know I’m learning?”

The Circular Economy of Interruption

Economists predict a boom in “interruption-based services,” including new dating apps (“InterruptMe”), business solutions (“SynergyBreakers”), and even meditation guides that interrupt users at the moment of Zen.

“We’re witnessing a paradigm shift,” said Dr. Fenton Quibble, Chief Disruption Officer at the Interruption Futures Institute. “Soon, the only thing more valuable than attention will be the ability to prevent anyone from ever getting any.”

Callback: The Return of the Spork

Meanwhile, spork sales have skyrocketed, as Interject users—confused by their own derailments—forget whether they want to eat soup or salad and just grab the nearest hybrid utensil. Spork industry spokesman Timothy “Tines” McCrabapple reports a 400% increase in demand, leading some analysts to dub this “The Spork Bubble.”

The Never-Ending Spiral

As the Interject continues its relentless march through society, the Office of Conversational Affairs warns of “unintended side effects,” such as “infinite loops of interruption” in crowded spaces. In one documented case, a group of Interject-wearing philosophy majors at NYU spent three days interrupting each other about the nature of reality, until they accidentally invented a new dialect composed entirely of “um,” “er,” and “wait, sorry.”

“This is the future,” said Chatterjee, now sporting three Interjects and a distant look in his eye. “Or maybe the past. Did anyone feed my cactus?”

To Be Continued…

[Editor’s note: This article was interrupted by a rogue Interject unit, which demanded we include a recipe for invisible soup. Our apologies for any confusion.]

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