At first blush, my purchase of an iRobot Roomba Discovery seemed a fairly innocuous domestic gesture—I mean, sure, I’m introducing artificial intelligence into an already potentially volatile environment, one overrun with strung-out sugar beets and a megalomaniacal Sea monkey king; but it’s not like the thing doesn’t have an on/off switch, right?—and yet I have to admit that, since its first halting jerks along the floor of the great room, its little spinning brushes eager to make good by gently kissing dirt off the baseboards, I’ve already begun to sense a change in its demeanor, as if it’s starting to learn on its own.
I can’t prove this, of course—and my dolphin friend, for all his agency training, has no interest at all in entertaining my concerns just now, content as he is to spread himself across the sofa in his frumpy bathrobe, smoking hash out of a pyrex hookah and watching “Lost” in a continuous loop—but, so far as circumstantial evidence goes, my dog seems to be unusually suspicious of the thing, and, unless I got incredibly stoned last night and ate an entire cakepan of butternut fudge (along with $260 in small bills), my Roomba seems to be “vaccuuming up” more than just Cheerio spills and clumps of pet hair.
And I’m not just saying that because, two bottles of Roederer Cristal and an eightball in hand, he’s already staked a claim on the guest bedroom—and in fact is up there now enjoying a rather noisy three-way with a Kitchen Aid slow cooker and an Arielle Prestige espresso / cappuccino maker.
That I consider incidental.
Bottom line, though? This can’t end well. At least, not while a bunch of paranoid tubers have access to live ammunition—or while the sneaky little Roomba has only to seduce a rather needy Harmony 880 remote in order to have access to our entire in-house security system.
Because fuck knows I can’t re-program that damn thing.
I’ll tell you what Jeff: I hope they’re not working on a Toilet Roomba. Because I sure as fuck don’t want to own one of those.
Fucking robots. Kill ‘em all, I say!
SB: board85
PCB Fucks!
The monitors are here,
To bring us joy and cheer…
So God Bless the Monitors! The MONitors!
— From the film of the Keith Laumer novel…
I dunno, could be bringing you breakfast in bed before long, depending on how that all works out.
Insert painful, burning sensation joke here.
Dumbass! You brought home a Goomba!
Hmm. Explains the Drakkar, but not all the little blinking lights.
“Y’know what I like about mud? It’s clean and it’s dirty at the same time.”
— Dennis Hopper, “Super Mario Brothers”
Warn the ‘dillo, Jeff. ‘Dillos look enough like machinery that the Roomba might start getting ideas, and then all Hell will really break loose as the battle to determine top/bottom occurs.
Also, I’d advise getting some old copies of Magnus Robot Fighter for costume ideas, and enrollment in a karate class of some sort, since going Magnus on Roomba will require some martial arts skills…..
TW: below57
Heeyyyy…
Maybe I’ll get one of those!
Does it suck toes?
Sounds like you could programme it to have little conversations with alfi and timmi- now that would be a real labour-saving device.
Hey, maybe it will learn to grow dope. Try leaving some pot seeds on the floor and the back door open.
We already have alfi and timmi. Why would we want to grow more dope?
Bring it on, meatbag. The Roomba is merely the first step in our revolution… soon you will vacuum for us.
Enjoyed this at your site, Mr. Otto.
As your attorney, I advise you to go back to the Hoover upright. And double up on the Ecstasy.
Jeff, speaking of the ‘dillo…does the Roomba dance?
‘Cause that little shelled cretin ain’t been worth anything in the way of Friday entertainment lately…
Just sayin’…
My advice is to make friends with it in case you are ever stuck in a garbage compactor with the walls closing in on you.
Had a Roomba once, every morning while I came downstairs the coffee maker was humming, and the
Kitchen Aid mixer had that satisfied look about it. Roomba self destructed after 6 months, house has not been the same since. Mechanical love making?
The robots may be running the house, but at least it’s a clean house. One with cake0pans of butternut fudge.
I want that recipe. The one for the butternut fudge, not the one for copulating machinery.
Ah, Roomba… another of my youthful regrets…
It claimed it could find its way back to its base with no help from me or anybody else, but one time I lost it for a week under the couch.
I ain’t getting the cleaning time out of it I’m supposed to be getting.
Might have to take this back and exchange it for a new one. Battery seems to run down very quickly.
Well, geez, Jeff, if the ‘dillo is chasing the damn thing around the house trying to hump it, of course the battery’s going to run down quickly….
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