Where Are the Robots?

Image courtesy of blickpixel at pixabay.com

Let us enter the world of the anthropophobic.  Anthropophobia is the pathological fear of people or human company. We have all suffered moments of this and I will from this point on lovingly refer to the condition as people-phobic and its sufferers as people-phobes.  Again, I do this lovingly and without judgment.  I simply fear that if I continue to write anthropophobic, this blog will be a drag to read and my point will be lost.  Not to mention I cannot type the word very quickly and my spell-check doesn’t even recognize the silly word.  Silly ‘Word’.

Where was I?  Oh yes, people-phobes.  People-phobes cheered at the advent of the Self-Checkout, the pizza ordering app, the sign-waving-mannequin, movie and television streaming, and sweet sweet online shopping… for the most part.  I say ‘for the most part’ because there remains a downside to all this bliss.  The beloved people-phobes’ pizza and smiley packages are still delivered by dreaded humans.  

More frightening still is the latte dilemma.  Not the ‘oh geez this costs what?!’ dilemma, but the having to activate my legs, bike, and/or car to navigate to the coffee shop, shack, or cart because I lack the skills or equipment to make a latte in the comfort and safety of my own home dilemma.  Forgive me.  Sometimes I over-identify…

In 1964 Isaac Asimov wrote an essay for The New York Times about what the world may be like in 2014 with all of the shiny new technology that would be accessible to the masses.  “Mankind will have become largely a race of machine tenders” he said.  In the actual year 2014, Oxford researchers agreed with Asimov, saying “Soon, all that will be left for human beings will be non-routine, creative work.”  I call bull hockey!  WHERE ARE THE ROBOTS?!

Image courtesy of Flickr gif 'mi robot' by trinity ass.

The highway billboards here in Portland are telling me that I can now order and pay for my Starbucks latte from my smartphone.  People-phobes rejoice!  Add to that Taco Bell, Chili’s, Panera Bread, and Mickey D’s have or soon will have similar apps to effectively reduce human to human contact.  I say that’s not good enough!!  People-phobes deserve better.  Let’s kick it up a notch.  A Roomba instead of a maid is nice, but it’s no Rosie.  Where is the drone mail delivery service?  Why can’t my pizza come in a self-driving KITT-like car that will accept payment from my R2 unit and when I’m done, Jinx can deposit the box in the recycling bin that will be emptied weekly by Conky 2000 and his crew?  Today’s secret word is "obsolete". 

One final note: Cyborgs and Androids need not apply.  I don’t think Dot Matrix would make for good tech support and Terminators are pretty iffy.  When my waffle maker suddenly develops a case of ‘the feels’ and I have to deactivate it, I don’t want it to do anything creepy like wink at me.  Three monotone cheers for people who don’t need people!

Read the references of the quoted stuff if you please:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/stowe-boyd/robots-jobs-purpose-humans_b_5689813.html

http://greatideas.people.com/2014/07/22/starbucks-app-order-ahead-coffee/   

I own no rights to any of the robots or the franchises mentioned, their merchandise, or anyone or thing that has to do with them.  The text written here is my own original thought, work, and opinion, shared with love. Photos in this post belong to their original owners (not me). No copyright infringement intended.  I only offer my humble rambling opinion.  Thank you.

Is popcorn better than an Oscar?

Oscar night, 2015:  I haven't seen the movies, am not much for couture, and like so many of us, I'm savvy enough to find the right highlights before heading to the proverbial water cooler.  So why bother to watch?  Simple. Popcorn.  Oscars celebrate cinema and cinema, to me, means popcorn.  I personally would rather have popcorn than an Academy Award.  

"Popcornmaker" by en:User:ElinorD - Uploaded to en: January 24 2007. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons 

Popcorn is the chameleon of snack foods.  Traditional popcorn is my favorite flavor.  But Oscar night requires extra butter.  In fact you can add just about any flavor to popcorn.  Butter, pepper, Thai spices (seriously I had some at a restaurant and it was legit!), caramel, you name it, you add it, you get more awesome.  To my knowledge, Oscars aren't tasty.

Musical foods are rare, and popcorn is one of them.  The rhythmic percussion of those edible fireworks is enough to make anyone smile, if not with their face, definitely with their tummy.  Your snack is a drum line.  Your Academy Award remains silent.

Popcorn is cheap!  I can pretty much always afford popcorn.   Even at the corporate multiplex, popcorn remains the economical choice of cinema snackage.  Paying $10 for several handfuls of popcorn is much more satisfying than paying that same ten bucks for 7 measly Raisinets.  Priced by volume, popcorn is pennies per kernel kids; pennies from heaven.

I am not a chef, but I'm pretty sure I can make popcorn 17 different ways.  Pop those kernels on the stove, in the kettle, in the air popper - vintage style, or the modern way in the microwave.  So, many, options.  An Oscar comes in one outfit, shiny nude.  

Popcorn is timeless.  Your parents ate it.  Your grand pappy did too.  Christopher frigging Columbus ate popcorn. For real!  Even the cool kids these days are still eating popcorn, and liking it.  Future generations may never enjoy a Twinkie, but popcorn is going nowhere.  Much like my love for it.  Cue exit music.




I own no rights to the Academy Awards, the franchise, it's merchandise, subsidiaries, synonyms or anyone or thing that has to do with it/them.  The text written here is my own original thought, work, and opinion, shared with love. Photos in this post belong to their original owners (not me) and are captioned with appropriate credit and used with permission.  No copyright infringement intended.  I only offer my humble rambling opinion.  Thank you.

Admit it Westminster, MY dog is the cutest!

He's not a lap dog and he doesn't wear bows or sweaters.  It's not for a lack of me trying however.  My friends and family will attest to the fact that I've tried raincoats, bandannas, shirts, and jingle bell laden Christmas collars.  His refusal is always adamant.  Yet, his cuteness is unsurpassed and here's proof:

He goes by many names:  Buddah, Mr. Handsome, Pups, Puppy Doo, Baby Doo, Wookie Doo, E-pup, Adube, or Sir Pups-a-Lot. He has never been, nor will he ever be 'the dog'.



I own no rights to theWestminster Kennel Club, the franchise, it's merchandise, subsidiaries, synonyms, or anyone or thing that has to do with it/them.  The text written here is my own original thought, work, and opinion, shared with love. Photos in this post belong to their original owners (actually me!) and are used with permission.  No copyright infringement intended.  I only offer my humble rambling opinion.  Thank you.

Why is the Silent Treatment so Funny?

Awwww is someone not talking to you?  Not to worry.  When you find yourself in this situation, fear not, for there is nothing to do but be amused...

Flckr image from page 106 of "Building and Engineering Catalog 1921 Edition" No known copyright restrictions

Turn down the volume and prepare for the LOLs:


~ The silent treatment is chocked full of physical exertion.  Yes I see you walking by,
    shuffling things and slamming doors, all in your relentless pursuit of being seen but not heard.  

~ Silence is quiet and doesn't interrupt me while I'm speaking.   Pity.

~ Silence can't resolve our differences.  We can't work it out over a warm cup of silence.

~ Silence punishes you way more than me.  You keep working hard to prove your point
    and I'll just be over here doin' my thang.

~ Silence is golden.  Gold has value.  Accept the payment as restitution.


The silent treatment speaks volumes about the imposer.  Mostly it says that they are a passive-aggressive abusive narcissist with extreme emotional dysfunction and you'd do well to try to remember that the next time you speak to them. LOL

What will you do next time someone stops talking to you?  I'm asking...