From a Series of Tubes

INT. BEDROOM NIGHT

The camera opens on the interior of an upstairs bedroom.  The camera pans right across the room, noting bookcase, a jacket hung on a chair, a window framing a tree outside, a quilted bed and a desk with chair.  Zooming in, a futuristic typewriter sits on the desk, with something like a small television screen where the paper should be.  Then the camera backs out to reveal Rod Serling in his characteristic black suit, standing next to the desk.

SERLING’S VOICE

Imagine for a moment that you live in a world where
you can communicate instantly with your friends and
family through a device like this one.  Anywhere
across the country, anywhere on the planet, they
read your message on the screen as you type the
keys.  You write shared conversations with them in
text as commonly as you would speak with them on
the telephone.  Now imagine that you were born into
this world, that this text-speak is a normal, everyday
part of your life, your friendships, your loves. 
Imagine that you even have relationships built on
this instantaneous correspondence with people half
a world away, people that you’ve never met in person. 
Tonight’s journey will be into this world built on text,
into the faceless world of...

( The Twilight Zone. )