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Category: robot

Look, I Watched The Terminator. This Won’t Do

Look, I Watched The Terminator. This Won’t Do


Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to watch the hell out of this robot video, because hey; robots.

We love robots. We like it even better if the robot’s very human-ish looking, and plodding along. We like the Frankenstein pace for heightening the creepy pursuit factor. Sarah Connor runs, the metal beast walks, Sarah gets tired, or maybe sees a sign in a shop window that says: SHOE SALE, and stops to look in the window, and the metal man catches up.

But what it this foolishness? Tripping on a stick? This thing should already have lasers for eyes, and a flamethrower for a pecker, and plow through anything like that. I was gonna put in an order for a couple dozen of these bad boys, but what sort of evil overlord would I be with an army of robot killers that can’t deal with stepping on a Lego brick?

My bad. Nothing can survive stepping on a Lego brick. 

Hey, Mister, Your Robot Cat Just Left A Pile Of Washers And Bolts On My Lawn, And You Better Clean It Up

Hey, Mister, Your Robot Cat Just Left A Pile Of Washers And Bolts On My Lawn, And You Better Clean It Up


Ah, robots.

We never tire of robots. At first they’re genial sorts, warning Will Robinson  to watch out for some interstellar muppet that coming his way. But humans, being the inquisitive sort, can never leave well enough alone. We’re not going to be happy until squads of four-legged death automatons are hunting us to extinction, farting leaf-blower noise the whole time.

I just reread that last paragraph, and I’m sorry, but I totally want to be hunted by a squad of four-legged death automatons. I can’t help myself.

I like A Weapon With The Personal Touch

I like A Weapon With The Personal Touch


I don’t care for those nuclear weapons. They have a hint of “baby with the bathwater.” And chemical weapons are so impersonal. You can’t even hang around and see what you’re doing for very long before you start coughing. Besides, they’re just bug bombs for people. Where’s the sense of fair play in that? Who would sign up to join a military run by the Orkin man? I wouldn’t. And tanks? No whimsy. I need whimsy in my defense procurement.

Now this thing I can get behind. A four-legged robot that throws concrete blocks with his head… er, fifth arm… er, fifth leg –its first arm that goes where his head goes — whatever. Anyway, I want legions of these babies marching over the horizon, instilling fear of unchecked masonry destruction on our enemies. They’ll never run out of ammo, either, as long as our foes have any partially built stripmalls around. It’s genius.

On The Plus Side…

On The Plus Side…


Well, they’re robots. Robots! We love robots. They’re making robots.

Then again, what the hell is this nonsense? Disco dancing robots? Where are the lasers burping out randomly, killing passersby? Where are the rotating knives? I demand they scurry all over the place and emit noxious gases. Even if they’re only a foot tall, any sef-respecting robot should be able to at least take off a foot. A one-footed arch-enemy is way, way easier to triumph over.

The one with the giant silver brain seemed to have potential. Nothing on six legs toting a silver brain around isn’t built for evil. Well, except for this thing. It does some sort of spidery Macarena, and that’s it. Where’s the plan for world domination? Intergalactic battle plans?

Bah. Kids these days.

(Thanks to DadofHomeschoolers for sending that one along)