Robots

I was driving in the Dollar Honda, and listening to public radio when I heard the most entertaining discussion I have ever heard on the radio. It was about the history and future of robotics in this country. I was listening intently as the guest recounted the history of robotics and then dove right into the subject of artificial intelligence and his work in that field. He spoke of the wondrous work he had been doing with teaching robots how to think and even write!

I was hoping and hoping and then it happened. A crazed engineer called in and began ranting about how he "lost his job to robots on three separate occasions. We need to be careful how far we take this" The guest responded in a cool manner,

"are you suggesting that we limit our research on robotics?" he sounded suspiciously like the robot on 2001 A Space Odyssey.

The caller's voice got louder, "I'm just saying that we need to be careful!"

"What do you mean, what are you really saying?" the guest asked.

I could tell what the caller was thinking and I knew he didn't want to come out and say it. The guest knew too. There was a long awkward silence. The air was tense and for that moment everyone listening knew what was about to transpire. It was beautiful. The host of the show, decided it was time, and asked the question that was demanding to be asked: "What are you afraid of caller?"

I could hear the frustration in the callers voice as he was forced to answer the question. He had already prefaced his comments by citing his degrees in engineering and his life's work in the field of robotics and science in an effort to legitimize his comments and put himself on equal ground with the guest expert. I could hear the pain in his voice as he slowly gave in and replied:

"What if the robots gain that consciousness you're working so hard to give them and turn on us?"

I had to pull over.

He had said the very thing, I am sure the whole world was waiting to hear. Actual scientists, the people actually involved in building robots are worried about the robots taking over. The caller was flustered. It was like he didn't want the world to know that this secret fear existed in the robotics community and now he had let the cat out of the bag. Meanwhile the show's guest was beginning to appear more and more like an evil mad scientist who wanted the robots to take over and put him into power over the entire world.

The caller kept saying, "we need to be careful, we need to be careful." But his doomsday rhetoric was ignored by the guest. I was laughing out loud at this point. Everyone knows that robots can't and won't take over the world. This fear has been present since the idea of robots first came about. I know this will never happen. I laughed myself silly at the debate ignited by this caller's fears.

But for some reason, I will never buy a Roomba. You see, if what this guy said is true, then I don't want to be accosted by my vacuum cleaner in the middle of the night, those things are wily little suckers.

Super Chocolate

As I write this the effects of a piece of chocolate I ate approximately four hours ago are beginning to wear off. A friend of mine from work gave me this special little nugget of cocoa from her purse and told me that it was a special kind of chocolate from the Amazon. Now any time I hear the words "chocolate" and "Amazon," you've got my attention. So as soon as she handed it to me I inserted the dark nugget into my mouth and began chewing. I didn't wait for her to explain the instructions (yes, apparently all chocolate that comes from the Amazon comes with instructions, kind of like medicine).

So as I was chewing this this thing she begins to tell me how I'm supposed to suck on the nugget instead of chewing it. She did not see that I was already chewing the thing up at that moment but upon hearing this I became a little concerned. I slowed down my rate of chew so I could hear what she was saying.

"This chocolate is rich in anti-oxidants and can curb your appetite in between meals," she said. I carefully swallowed the remaining bits. "If you rest it on your tongue and suck on it, the chocolate will coat the lining of your stomach and help curb your appetite but you're not supposed to eat it all at once," she went on.

"This is really good chocolate," I said.

"You already ate it?" she seemed concerned.

"Yeah, wow, I feel kind of funny." I was concerned.

"You're not supposed to chew it up and eat it!" She seemed equally concerned.

At that moment I had an experience similar to the one I had with the chips at the office (search blog for entry about chips in office. It's worth it I promise). Only this was a little different. The room became much brighter. Everything was more detailed than I had ever noticed before. The image my eyes were seeing would skip or jump every few seconds. My brain started working faster. I've never done drugs before but I think this is the closest I've ever come to experiencing the effects of one.

I confessed to my friend that I had indeed consumed the chocolate incorrectly. I told her what I was experiencing and she seemed surprised. I was okay driving home. I was very okay. But now things are wearing off. I miss high definition experience that lasted a whole four hours. I have decided that this chocolate is going to be great during graveyard shifts. And now that I have experienced this I no longer want an HD TV. I just want more Amazon Mega Chocolate. All I have to do is chomp one up and then I get to experience HD Life. But as with the chips I have to be careful. The law of diminishing returns is always waiting to rear its ugly head in my life. So this month it will be Amazon Chocolate. Next month, exotic potato chips. The month after that, I'll be spending my time at J-Dogs. And so the circle of addictive foods will continue. I need to find a link to my deale- I mean friend's chocolate website (if she has one) so my faithful readers can experience high definition life too. She sells the stuff you know, and I fully endorse it.

The Bean

I thought we were done. I thought the embarrassment was over. Just when you thought they had thought of everything to strengthen and shape your abs, out comes this: The bean. The bean is an inflatable blob shaped like a kidney bean. To exercise your abs on this thing, you have to rock back and forth on it using embarrassing pelvic thrusts up in the air. On the infomercial these thrusts are performed by sexy hard bodied men and woman who are just having the time of their lives. And of course, it's all done poolside.

Okay so you've got the bean and you happen to belong to the Bean's target market: You're a 300 pound male or female who stays up, watching TV until 3AM. Like all the others, this device cannot possibly support your weight, just like that inflatable couch you thought was such a good idea at the time. I can see it now, you mount the bean and after a few awkward upward pelvic thrusts, your shirt has ridden up past your belly and you are sweating like a pig. The Bean not only insults people's intelligence but, like all the other machines out there, has devised a way to trap you on it. Shortly after you begin your workout, you inevitably become glued to the "super strong poly-vinyl surface." Removing yourself from the Bean will prove more painful than the actual attempted workout as it rips your flesh from your back.

I can't stand this stuff. First it's the machine that seduces you into working out on it because it looks like a lounge chair. This is easily and appeal to the target's laziness. "We know all about you Mr. Smith, you got fat because you sat in your chair for all those years eating pork Rhine's and peanut butter. But this chair is different! This chair will make you fit again! It's so easy just have a seat." They you get trapped and can't get out.

The Bean is an appeal to the target's stomach. "We know you Mr. Smith, we empathize with your plight. You got the way you are by eating too many beans. Well use this bean and thrust your way to a perfect stomach. Instead of eating the beans that made you fat, you can ride a bean and get the opposite effect. Honestly, so if I eat too many hot dogs from J-Dogs, I'll just develop a hot dog shaped work out system. But I don't know if it's the hot dog or the special sauce that actually puts the weight on. If it's the sauce, I don't know how I'll ever be able to afford an Olympic sized swimming pool filled with sauce.

The Great Mistake

A few years ago I made a mistake. I decided to trade in our N64 and all our games for a Game Boy Advance SP. I didn't realize this was a mistake until much later when my wife revealed to me the fact that she missed playing Mario Kart with me. Now my wife detests all forms of electronic simulation. She can't stand video games in any format, and hates what they do to men my age. You know, playing seemingly mindless games for hours on end with my "idiot friends," neglecting familial responsibilities, etc. So for her to say, "I miss playing Mario Kart together. It was the only video game I ever liked and will ever play," was a big deal.

My mission was clear. Within fifteen minutes I had a console, controllers, and Mario Kart on hold for me. I brought it home, put the kids to bed, and my wife and I rekindled a fire we had been too long without. It was amazing how something so simple could be so great. I just thought you should know, that it's never too late to correct a big mistake. Tonight I made things right again, and for the record once again,

"I'm a Luigi, I'm a number one."

Cold Pop Corn

I love popcorn. Every time I go to a movie I have to get a bag of $5.00 popcorn. It's gotten to the point where it's no longer a habit but more of a compulsion. I tried to resist it the other night but just as I got up to the counter to buy my wife a drink, they unleashed a fresh batch of authentic movie theatre popcorn. It was too much. I bought a bag and revelled in the buttery freshness.

I have to eat popcorn when I watch a movie at home too. But home popcorn is different than movie theatre popcorn. No matter how much they may claim that it tastes just like movie theatre popcorn, it never does and never will. I have accepted that though and come up with my own solution.

Whenever I pop popcorn I immediately take it out of the microwave, open the bag, and then place it in the fridge. That's right people. The fridge. After ten minutes, the popcorn has cooled and is starting to get stale. This takes it as close as I can get to movie theatre quality. I don't know why I like it cold I just do. Jamie has seen me do this and thinks it is completely weird. She's right about this. It is completely weird. But I do weird things (See AI07 Confession for example).

Death Trap

What's wrong with this picture? I'll tell you what's wrong. The woman seated ever so comfortably in this chair of physical torture weighs much too little. In fact you may even notice how wide this piece of machinery is. I bet you could at least fit a 350 pound man on this thing. But will you ever see one? NO! Because even though, this wonderful invention is advertised to fat slobs who stay up until 3:00AM every night, watching TV; there is no way one would ever be able to conduct the very motion the ab lounger creators intended for them to do. These people can't even bend over and touch their toes let alone strap themselves into a raised lawn chair and do a series of rigorous crunches. I mean, honestly people. They couldn't even maneuver themselves into the thing without risking serious injury.

Now it is not my intention to make fun of fat people. On the contrary the people who made this thing are the ones making fun of fat people. They're the ones telling all of us that we too can have a perfectly sculpted body and amazing hand, eye, torso coordination. I have a hard enough time patting my head and rubbing my belly at the same time, let alone strapping into the beach chair and touching my toes while sideways. And I'm not fat! Can you imagine an obese person doing this? I can and that's the other thing that bothers me about this. The fact that I can imagine it and it never ends well. In my dreams the dude always ends up on the floor tangled in between the cnc aircraft grade aluminum poles and nylon cover. It's just inhumane. If you're going to build an exercise machine, don't tease us. Build one that's easy enough for all of us to do without risking serious injury or embarrassment.

I think that's why they make these things so portable too. So after you pull your groin for the seventh time, you can quietly admit defeat, pack it up and hide it under your bed never to be seen again. Who wants to be reminded of the hernia they got from trying to touch their toes while tied down to a lawn chair? Not I.

AI07 Confession

It's time for confession. I fantasize about being the winning contestant of American Idol. Yeah, I just said that. I usually do this in the shower. See the shower is the most important place in my home. The shower is where I get my inspiration. I think it's the process of the water penetrating my thick hair that lubricates my brain and causes a mass explosion of creativity. I do my best thinking in the shower. I right all my best songs in the shower. I come up with the best come backs to past insults in the shower, I once spent two hours in a shower and when I emerged, I had a completed screenplay in my hands. The shower is my special place. It also happens to be the place where I act out my American Idol fantasies. This can be dangerous though. I have to make sure I don't get too into my number while in the shower. I've injured myself during power vocals. You know how it is, you're hitting that part of the song where you spread your legs out as if you're about to go into a windmill (if you were playing the guitar) and you outstretch your mic hand and tilt your head up. Then you really belt it out. The only problem is when conducting this maneuver in the shower, you risk slippage and therefore serious injury. I don't know how many times I've pulled something before slamming down on the tub floor, taking the shower curtain with me.

When I'm not working on my audition skills I usually just fold my arms, face the water, and lean up against the wall. This is my meditation stance. I like to turn the hot water up for this one as it helps me relax even more. I get the most out of my brain during this time in the shower. All my deep thoughts derive from this. Fortunately for me, I don't have to pay the water bill.

Don't Touch The Hotness!

We took a call from a young woman who demanded Paramedics to treat extensive burns she had just received. When asked how she burned herself she painfully exclaimed in a thick Indian accent,

"I touched the hotness!"

An officer was sent along with Paramedics. The officer arrived on the scene first and found the patient in her apartment. The patient demanded to know where the paramedics where. Our officer looked at her and said something to the effect of, "where are you burned?"

At that point the woman's eyes welled up with tears and she raised her index finger in the air. It took a second for the officer to realize that the woman had only been burned on her index finger. Apparently this injury was traumatic enough for her to warrant calling 911 and having the paramedics come screaming into her complex, lights and sirens blazing. But hey, what can you expect when you touch the hotness?

Paramedics arrived and she demanded transport to the ER. They were eventually able to get her to calm down by offering to apply liberal amounts of burn cream (usually reserved for the char broiled) on her injured finger.

There is something to be said though, for touching the hotness. Sometimes we aren't thinking clearly and we touch the hotness. The burn surprises us so much we need copious amounts of TLC to regain our composure. I remember the last time I touched the hotness, man it was crazy. But that's another story for another time.