Robots Shall Not Take My Sandwich.

Hello! So…how about robots?

They’re awesome. Pretty much anything that needs doing is made at least a little more awesome if it’s done by a robot. Need your laundry done? WashBot. Need a beer? Kegbot. Need to beat up some hobos?

Why yes, there is actually a robot for that.

Seriously, did you need to build a robot to terrorize bums? I’m pretty sure that’s what winter and feral dogs are for. I mean, why build a robot that performs your hobbies for you? Previously robots were only built to more efficiently perform menial tasks that we didn’t want to do, and if you’re building a robot just to shoot at bums, chances are you find shooting at bums enjoyable.

There is no other reason to mount a video camera on it, much less have it stream that footage of its homeless fightin’ antics to the 60-inch TV at your bar. You like fucking with hobos, that much is plain and clear. And yes, you may be the lord of the douchebaskets for doing so, but why deprive yourself of the few twisted jollies you get in life by building a robot that likes it more than you? This seems self-defeating. Are you going to program a robot to eat steak for you? To drink beer for you? To secretly and shamefully masturbate to homeless-themed pornography sites every night while your wife quietly cries in the garage, pretending she didn’t find that copy of Street Roots under your mattress with the pages stuck together?

I like robots too, but the day somebody builds a robot that loves sandwiches and Guinness more than me is the day I take to the caves and sewers to begin the New Luddite uprising. Technology is great, but it’s not sammich great. Period.

So let’s not go down this road, okay?…

The Last Great Sage of Russia

Russian soldiers found this crazy-ass thing on a beach over the weekend, and are baffled as to what it could be.

I assume this is because The Dark Crystal didn’t translate very well over there, because clearly, it’s this guy:

Also, this is a prime opportunity to posit a question that has been bothering me for years: Why is it that when Russians are perplexed by a situation, the first thing they do is send an old Russian man to smoke a cigarette directly over said situation?

Does this help? Is it the same guy? Is there one dude in Russia that you call when you don’t know shit - and he comes in, lights up, pokes around for a bit in his silken man-blouse - before ultimately proclaiming, “Da. Whut you haff here is easy. Is urRu. From Dark Crystal. Step lightly, comrade, Skeksis not far behind,” at which point he fires up his giant, gray, box-shaped truck and trundles off into the sunset listening to shitty techno from 1996?

Science, Lasers, Lightning, Ronnie James Dio: My blog just exploded.

Does everybody have their Motorhead albums ready? Okay, then let’s begin:

Today scientists shot the world’s most powerful portable laser cannon into the desert sky in order to provoke a lightning strike.

Alright, so let’s all take a few minutes to listen to some Motorhead, then return back here when we’re all sufficiently metal enough to read the rest of this post without crying.

We good? Okay! Let’s continue.

The scientists met specifically for this purpose, and this purpose alone: To fire a laser beam into the sky that causes lightning to strike on demand. Two teams of researchers collaborated to create the laser used, which fired several terawatts of energy directly into the overhead clouds. The laser beam then “self focused” on itself - refracting off of the water droplets present, which caused it to grow more powerful as it progressed - ultimately acting like a lightning rod for the collecting energy.

This is rather dry considering the scale of what they’ve just accomplished, so I’ll explain it a bit better for science, just in case science ever needs to get laid after a Slayer concert. The beam burned through the night sky until it gathered the attention of lightning bolts who, in appreciation of mankind’s sudden upswing in hardcore, could only strike in salute.

If my girlfriend asks how my day went, I would say something like “good, got some stuff done. Worked on my article. You?”

If these scientist’s girlfriends ask how their day went, they’ll say “I FIRED A FUCKING LASER BEAM AT GOD AND MADE HIM STRIKE LIGHTNING AT MY COMMAND AND NOW I NEED A SANDWICH TO REPLENISH THE ENERGY THAT I LOST WHILE LAUGHING MANIACALLY FOR TWO STRAIGHT DAYS AND YOU SHALL GET ME THIS SANDWICH WHILE I TAKE OFF MY SHIRT AND SCREAM FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

Seriously, if this isn’t the…