Multipart posts are a little gauche, but I don’t have a choice. This may be the most important journalistic breakthrough of the 21st century. We have one joyous shout-out and one totally semi-substantiated, earth-shattering, theory-level dot-com epiphany, neither of which can be ignored.
The short shout-out goes to the Worcester, Mass., city council, which recently girded its collective loins and told Comcast which sun-less orifice the monolith could stick it in when the company applied for the city’s cable license. Oh yeah!
Back story: Comcast has been rampaging through central Massachusetts and pulling the same move on 43 other communities -- no doubt feeling big in its britches due to the proposed-not-final merger with Time Warner Cable. As part of that travesty, it’s looking to crush the current dominant Massachusetts cable provider, Charter Communications.
However, Worcester is the first community trying to reject the Comcapocalypse. I say “trying” because the city council doesn’t have control over that decision. At least it stood up and let the voices be heard, using phrases like “awful company,” “sub-standard customer service,” and “wolf in wolf’s clothing.” It made me feel so good I skipped my 8 a.m. whiskey today.
Now for something creepier
Onto the epiphany, which exploded in my brain when I read a recent “expose” on Edward Smith, who, judging by his picture, lives in Seattle where men are men and cars run scared. I put “expose” in quotes because the editors at ITV were evidently suffering writer’s block -- this guy originally hit the fringe news back in 2008.
Nevertheless, the story has bearing on one of today’s most frightening dot-com mysteries. You see, Mr. Smith (if that’s his real name) is a mechaphile and gets a rouser in his trousers over machines -- namely, his long-term girlfriend, a VW Beetle named Vanilla. Again, I’m not making this up, nor is it a drug-fueled hallucination.
When I read that, I confess I went out to the garage with hopes of convincing my gorgeous new Italian she-devil motorcycle to help me get over Pammy, but no go. Without the engine running, I was as turned off as the bike; with the motor revving, she scared the hell out of me. Apparently I’m not a mechaphile and will have to rebound with an actual person. (Yes, I know, a woman who’ll need to be blind with extremely low self-esteem. Bite me.)
The mechaphile news pushed me to undertake deep, Red Bull-powered research on the Internet of All Things Truthful and Never Hoaxy. It turns out there are several variations of this mechalove phenom where folks get butterflies in their tummies for inanimate objects. Most telling is ASFR, otherwise known as technosexuality, further known as robot fetishism, even further known as the latest Cringely Theory of Google’s Real Plan to Control the Planet Using Its Inexplicable Robot Acquisitions and Other Crap (CTGRCPUIRAOC). Hey, long acronyms lend instant credibility -- just ask the government.
Google: J’accuse! It all makes sense: the emphasis on personal robots with creepy, human-style expressions; violent military robots, if you like bad boys; charged and compliant female robots, if that's your thing; productive office and factory robots for when we decide to settle down -- capped off with private space travel so that Brin and Page can whisk off the real women and hide them in their moon harem.
Remember, folks, you heard it here first. When your Google+ preemptively culls your circles of "undesirables," YouTube blocks all your favorite cat videos, and Google introduces the Higher Algorithmic Learning (HAL) 2020 to take over every decision and action in your life, all in the name of love, don't say I didn't tell you so. The robots may have the brains, but we still hold the power (for now) against them ... and possibly even Comcast.