Barrtalk: Now the toothbrush needs Wi-Fi and an app, and it costs €500

I’ve long suspected that technology has finally gone completely bonkers.

These days, everything has to be “smart”. The radio needs an app. The lights need an app. The fridge needs an app.

I wouldn’t be surprised if, before long, my kettle starts demanding a Wi-Fi password before it’ll boil.

And now, apparently, even my toothbrush needs to get in on the act. Step forward the Dyson CameraJet – a €500 toothbrush which, incredibly, has a camera inside it.

Yes, you read that correctly. A camera. Inside your toothbrush.

Because clearly what we’ve all been missing from our morning dental routine is a live video feed of the inside of our mouths. No thanks.

I’m not sure about you, but first thing in the morning I’m barely awake enough to locate my toothbrush, never mind wanting to conduct a close-up inspection of my molars.

And last thing at night? I certainly don’t want to be watching the inside of my mouth on Wi-Fi. I’ve enough trouble finding something decent to watch on Netflix.

Dyson says this remarkable bit of kit took six years to develop and contains a staggering 16 million lines of code. Its tiny 100,000-pixel camera captures 28 images every second, with artificial intelligence trained on 470,000 dental images.

It identifies the gaps between your teeth and then fires targeted jets of mouthwash into them. And, apparently, you can connect the toothbrush to Wi-Fi to get a live feed. Try explaining that one to your elderly grandparents.

Technology has officially gone off the rails – or perhaps off the bristles.

I concede that the CameraJet does look like a nifty piece of engineering. But here’s the question I keep coming back to: does all this technology actually make it better at cleaning your teeth?

I’ve watched plenty of dentists on YouTube discussing it, and several have questioned whether the camera is little more than a gimmick.

And, frankly, I’m inclined to agree. Do we really need 16 million lines of computer code to tell us where our teeth are?

And then there’s the privacy question. Can the camera be left running? Could somebody else potentially access the footage? Suddenly your toothbrush has become a data-protection issue.

Whatever happened to simply putting toothpaste on a brush and getting on with it?

And isn’t Dyson supposed to make vacuum cleaners, anyway?

I think I’ll stick with my trusty Oral-B electric toothbrush, thank you very much. It doesn’t need Wi-Fi, doesn’t require an app and, thankfully, doesn’t send me a live feed of my own gob.

Oasis are back, but the ticket prices are ‘Definitely Maybe’ too much AGAIN

I have to admit, when I saw the news that Oasis are coming back to Ireland, my first reaction was a mixture of excitement and dread.

Excitement because I absolutely loved Oasis in my late teens and early twenties. They were the soundtrack to a sizeable chunk of the halcyon days of my youth, and I was lucky enough to see the Gallagher brothers live three times back in the day.

Dread because I already had a horrible feeling that the price of getting through the gates this time was going to be enough to make my bank account Wonderwall.

And, judging by the ticket prices announced for their return to Slane Castle in September 2027, I wasn't wrong.

The band has announced two shows at Slane on September 4 and 5 next year, with ‘standard’ [sic] ticket prices ranging from a whopping €181.25 to €501.25, including the booking fee. And then there is a further service charge of up to €10.50 per ticket.

Five hundred euro! For one ticket! Standard price! How much money do Liam and Noel want?

Look, I understand that everything costs more these days. I understand that Oasis are one of the biggest bands of their generation. I understand that Slane is a spectacular venue.

But shelling out hundreds to watch a nostalgia-fest in County Meath next autumn? No thanks.

What makes the prices particularly galling is the controversy that surrounded the band's last Irish shows, when dynamic pricing and hefty fees caused considerable anger among fans.

You might have thought somebody, somewhere, would have looked at all that and said: “Maybe let's not do that again.”

As I write this column ahead of time, I have no idea whether the Slane tickets will still be available by the time you read this. Given the enduring popularity of Oasis, I wouldn't be putting money on it.

And fair play to the Gallagher brothers – nostalgia clearly sells.

I'll admit I'm not completely immune to it either. I still love plenty of Oasis material, and I also really enjoy some of Liam Gallagher's more recent solo work. ‘Once’, in particular, is a cracking song and, dare I say it, as good as anything Oasis have done.

But even that isn't enough to have me handing over circa €300.

I think I'll stick on my old Oasis CDs [I also have some Oasis vinyl these days], turn the volume up and recreate the experience from the comfort of my own home.

It'll cost me nothing – and, crucially, nobody will be charging me €20 for a can of lager in the fridge. Self-confessed curmudgeon, that I am.