Domo Origato, Mr. Roboto?

There is this trend throughout modern society I find particularly disturbing…so disturbing, in fact, that I have interrupted Ur pleasant evening of blog reading 2 report it 2 U with my annoying, cryptic narcoglyphs, that will most likely cause U 2 experience blinding headaches, insomnia, night terrors, vertigo, psoriasis and may cause birth defects in pregnant women (it is recommended that U stop reading B4 any permanent damage has o cur d.). I am speaking 2 U 2nite about this insane desire we as a society have 2 create artificially intelligent devices. Are U people stupid? Am I the only one here who has seen 2001: A Space Odyssey? No…never caught that one? How about The fucking Terminator, then? Is that one ringing any bells, chief?

I’m sitting here minding my own business, watching Underdog and jerking off as usual ( that Polly Pureheart…What a hot bitch she is, huh?) when my phone rings. First of all, I hate it when the fucking phone rings. It’s never anything good. It’s never Ed McMahon calling me up 2 tell me I’m piss fucking rich and Charo wants 2 know can she get my number ( coochie coochie coo, baby!). No…it’s always some asshole trying 2 get in my pockets without even offering me a handjob 2 go along with it, or the goddamn police calling 2 inform me that my kid has joined The Symbianese Liberation Army and just blew up the fucking federal building or some shit. I let it ring…oh, I don’t know, a dozen times B4 finally snapping out of my self-induced coma and picking up the receiver 2 hear none other than…A recording? Are U fucking kidding me with this here? A goddamned computer called me? Is he fucking kidding me with this here? Holy shit!

Look…don’t get me wrong. I like 2 play video games, write my blogs and download copyrighted materials as much as the next guy. But that doesn’t mean I want the motherfucker calling me at my fucking house! I have nothing 2 say 2 these marvels of modern technology. U can take Ur robots, cyborgs and androids and shove them right up Ur goddamn ass. I do have something 2 say 2 the eggheads at Lawrence Livermore or MIT or some junior high school in Kyoto, Japan or wherethefuckever that’s making these motherfuckers, though. I would like 2 ask these brilliant minds exactly what they were smoking when they decided this would be a good idea and can Ur boy get two of them 4 thirty?

Listen 2 me, people!…If these madmen succeed in what they are trying 2 do it spells doom 4 the species, I’m telling ya! If it ever reaches a level of intelligence that it becomes self-aware…Jesus Christ on a Chinese ice cream truck, are U listening 2 me? If it becomes self aware…if it becomes a sentient being…it will take it…with all of it’s vast computing power…oh, I don’t know…less than a hundredth of a fucking second 2 figure out that human beings are the only thing in the fucking solar system that can turn it off! U heard me…we just became vermin. Ain’t progress grand?

Or we can head out in a totally different direction, since that one wuz so much fucking fun. Let’s examine the world of entertainment…more specifically…computer gaming…more specifically…virtual reality. Yeah, I know…holodecks look really cool on Star Trek and wouldn’t it just be noodles if we could go 2 our favorite spot in the whole, wide world right by the ocean when we were really stuck 60,000,000 gadzillion bajillion miles away in outer space? Oh…I don’t know. Would it? Really…think about it…would it?

As they used 2 tell me when I wuz in recovery (I don’t have a problem…U have a problem! This whole fucking place has a problem!), let’s go ahead and play that movie all the way until the end. So what Ur saying is this…any Butthole Joe Blow Dickhead is going 2 be able 2 go down 2 his local electronic warehouse, plop down however much the cocksuckers are asking 4 it and walk away with a box he can take then home, climb N2, load his Jenna Does Losers program (cuz U fucking know the porn industry is all over this like a pedophile at a preschool) and start fucking the living shit out of Jenna or Shay Sweet or Salma Hyack or Bea Arthur or Miss fucking Piggy if he wants? And it’s gonna smell just like and taste just like and feel just like Jenna Jameson would? And while I’m…I mean, he’s doing it he can order up a six-course meal 4 the two of them that will taste just like it wuz cooked by the finest chefs in all of Europe and then crack open a bottle of ice-cold 1957 Dom Perignon that will just dance on their tongues as they walk hand in hand down some secluded, moonlit beach, laughing as the waves lap playfully at their feet and they dance out of the way, stopping 4 only long enough 2 taste the sea on their lips and smell the salt in the air B4…oh, wait…Jeeezus Christ, WTF...what is that stench? WTF is that?

That stench is the smell of Butthole Joe Blow Dickhead’s dead, bloated carcass when they discover his naked, starved, emaciated corpse still crammed N2 his virtual fuck box 9 daze later, that’s what! U thought crack wuz bad 4 ya? Let me tell U, this will be the worst fucking dope U ever saw! Motherfuckers who never had a Mormon’s chance in Hell of scoring with a babe like that will climb in there and never be fucking heard from again! Why should they come out? So they can go back 2 their crummy, little, insignificant, nine 2 five shithole existence where the boss rides their ass all day long over stupid shit and then they get home after driving through six and a half hours of bumper 2 bumper bullshit traffic only 2 find 47 messages on this goddamned machine from Mary Jane Rottencrotch wanting 2 know whether or not he’s gonna step up and be a man cuz this is Ur baby, motherfucker!? Or…he can just kick it right here and let Aunt Bea blow him 4 another ten minutes. U tell me what he’s gonna do.

Then let me know if U still think technology is really all that good 4 humanity.