Take Me Back

Take me back to 1950 when Isaac Asimov wrote I, Robot. Back to when, the concept of robots was a new -- new and intriguing. Mechanical people was so far fetched, yet real.

Take me back before growing up including the concept of robots everywhere. You could say a desensitization of an idea. One that would have been fascinating to witness in your time be created, and then have it grow. Grown to the point today where every movie theater in the world will be showing a movie with robots in it (at least it would seem so in my head)

I am here, because if you did take me back, I would still be Insolence is Bliss. Things would be different,  but I wouldn't be battery powered.

I don't promote the thought of taking me back as one of those counters you come up with in an imaginary fight with your friends ("I shot you with my mega-freeze ray!" "Well I am wearing my anti-mega-freeze ray repellant!") I just find it a way to prove I'm existent

Then again, I am proving why I am HERE. For if you did take me back, I wouldn't be here any longer. I wouldn't be able to blog to show why I'm human. Though it would mean I'm not a robot. Doesn't prove I am human.

I was up last night, my mind troubled and my body ill, and I could not fall asleep til some ungodly hour. Robots are pathetic, they can just plug in their chargers and go to sleep. No insomnia worries at all. At least that's how I imagine it'd work.

Now, take me back to my birth. Where the worth of a human is extraordinary. Fragility woven with innocence and potential. Though at the time it amounts to nothing.

Take me back so I show you where the difference is. Where robots are born with their purpose installed and their motivation hardwired. Whereas man doesn't have a clue (and still doesn't), but will spend their days searching for their purpose, and seeking their motivation. Above all, humans need to be acknowledged. Which is why I write well, to express, but to receive recognition that I can selfishly take to heart and feel good about myself. Taken to a heart that beats, that loves, that is quite mortal.

But it's really up to you to believe me or not.

But right now, I'm here. And I don't plan on that changing anytime soon.

- Insolence is Bliss

STATISTICAL REPORT ON TODAY

- 0630 HOURS: UNPLUGGED AND OILED JOINTS

- 0700 HOURS: RAN CHECK ON MAINFRAME FOR MALFUNCTIONS. NONE DETECTED

- 0940 HOURS: HAD AN ENCOUNTER WITH A HUMAN WHO WAS VERY UNINTELLIGENT. DEALT WITH BY PROTOCOL.

- 1250 HOURS: A FEMALE HUMAN TOLD ME SHE LOVED ME. CANNOT COMPUTE THE MEANING OF THIS. NOT PROGRAMMED HOW TO RESPOND

- 1600 HOURS: A LIQUID OF UNKNOWN TYPE, FELL DOWN MY FACE. SEEMED TO ORIGINATE FROM THE EYES. COULD THIS BE WHAT THE HUMANS CALL, SAD? TO INVESTIGATE FURTHER WITH THE MAINFRAME.

- 1945 HOURS: WAS BROWSING A STORE FOR NEW PARTS WHEN I HEARD WHAT THE HUMANS REFER TO AS "MUSIC", PLAY. UNKNOWN ANOMALY OCCURRED WHERE MY LIMBS BEGAN TO MOVE ON THEIR OWN, SEEMINGLY IN TIME WITH THE SOUNDS PLAYING. REMINDER TO CHECK ON WHEN PLUGGING IN

- 2200 HOURS: A CHECK WITH THE MEDICAL COMPUTER REPORTS THAT I AM EXPERIENCING HEAVY AMOUNTS OF "FEELING". BY THE MORNING, ALL SAID FOREIGN "FEELING" WILL BE TERMINATED.