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Message-ID: <1fd0sra.9493dy1k34yv4N%spog@jwgh.org> Subject: Eulogy for the Giant Killer Commie Robot From: "Jacob W. Haller" <spog at jwgh.org> Date: Thu, 30 May 2002 23:54:11 -0400
Alas! for the Giant Killer Commie Robot, struck down in its prime.
It never did anyone any harm, apart from the countless individuals it rendered into small bits at the behest of its communist masters, and even then, who among us can say we have not done something similar?
Its gleaming carapace lies bent and tattered on the ground.
All it ever wanted out of life was a bottle of Stolichnaya (the Barry White of vodka), a good musician joke, and the instant death of all capitalist stooges. Is that so wrong?
And yet it was silenced.
Persevere, o lifeless hulk of a once-noble and frightening mechanism. For one day there will come one who can reassemble your pincers and claws and hammers and sickles -- one who bears a wrench and the know-how with which to use it. And when that day comes you will once again stand strong and tall, ready to do your masters' bidding, be that world domination or a tango. Wait patiently, dear robot, for one day we shall meet again!
Is tomorrow good for you?
The enb.
-jwgh
OR IS IT?
--
"If Vienna had been on the equator and its bourgeoisie had gone around
in Bermuda shorts, would Freud have described the same neurotic
symptoms, the same Oedipal triangles?"
- Umberto Eco, /Travels in Hyperreality/
Eb Oesch <ericboesch at hotmail.com> responded to the above in article <903f6dfe.0205311238.68b74a0c@posting.google.com>, which I reproduce here for posterity:
Nobody knows what to do with a killer robot anymore. Somebody mothballs a perfectly good missile, and this is a good thing? I'm no economics major, but I can calculate the ROI on a swarm of metal spiders that can draw energy from the incinerated flesh of their victims, if they spend their entire operational lifetimes rusting away in their hidey-holes in the Peking sewer system.A good killer robot is like the one-horse shay. You buy it, you turn it on, and it kills and kills and kills and kills and kills until finally it collapses into a heap of metal filings when every blood-soaked part, from the bolts in its forehead to the treads on its support pods, suffers catastrophic metal fatigue. Then its spirit is carried up to Soulless Death Machine Heaven.