Science Fiction, Humor, Poorly Drawn Comics
That title doesn't make sense.
Keurig is a coffee maker and a modem... isn't.
If titles could be as long as blog posts I would have said, The Sound A Keurig Coffee Maker Makes When Brewing The Liquid Fuel That Is My Addiction Is The New Replacement For The Sound Of A Modem Connecting.
You young'uns won't remember the special thrill of hearing a modem singing it's love song to various BBSes and eventually the internet (my bad, teh internetz).
That sing-song chirp-fest meant you were about to tap into a rich vein of... well mostly chat, email and "door games".
Ha! Door games are now an obscure reference.
It's what we did before Flash and FaceBook.
Door games were simple games that a BBS could drop you into after you connected.
Yeah! Interestingly enough many of the FaceBook games are just spam-tastic versions of old door games.
You take a certain number of turns each day and other players do the same.
The big difference now is that the apps SPAM the LIVING Be-Jebus out of all your friends who don't know how to ignore them.
My children have grown up with the internet having always been an always on, always connected resource.
That means the sound of a modem connecting would be... annoying at best.
However, our new Keurig coffee maker with its wheezing, gasping, spitting sounds of forced coffee production is a different matter.
In the few days since Christmas I have already begun to experience a Pavlovian reaction to that sound.
Originally it sounded like the poor machine was in some form of respiratory or intestinal distress.
Now it sounds like tasty rocket fuel is about to hit my bloodstream.
So that, my friends, is the long, round-about explanation of how the bear lost his tail, er, the Keurig Is The New Modem.
When I was a kid, I loved a comic book called Magnus The Robot Fighter.
Magnus was a robot fighting
machine human, who stood up to the robotic overlords who for some reason I can't remember were both bossy and mean.
Despite the futuristic setting complete with flying cars (which I seem to remember you lay on your stomach to fly) and of course robots everywhere, apparently the best weapons for fighting said robots were your bare hands.
Well, not YOUR bare hands, pretty much only the hands of Magnus The Robot Fighter.
I'm guessing their little robotic faces were made from thin aluminum based on the damage Magnus' fist inflicted.
I am curious what metal was used in the construction of their spindly little necks because Magnus could karate chop their heads right off.
Those robots needed to learn the meaning of the word recall.
The best part was how cute they thought Magnus was as he was killing them because they often said, "SQUEEE!!!" as he mangled and beheaded them.
Jump forwards about 30 years and a question that looms over the future of space exploration is what mix of human vs. robotic missions make sense.
As a species we've taken our first tentative steps away from our crib and into the cosmos (with its BILLIONS and BILLIONS of stars) with both manned and robotic missions.
On the manned side we've been to low earth orbit, then to the moon, then to low earth orbit, and well, more low earth orbit.
Kind of the space-faring equivalent of going to the grocery store for milk.
Then going to Tahiti.
Then going to the grocery store for bread.
Then going to the store for eggs. And so on.
On the robotic side we've been to Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn with dedicated missions plus fly-bys of the other planets (and planetary bodies formerly known as planets).
Our Voyager probes are even leaving our solar system.
Holy crap! The robots are clearly winning the space race!
Curse these oxygen sucking, radiation succumbing meat-based bodies!
Turns out our bodies are perfectly adapted to life on earth and nowhere else we have found.
For us to go anywhere else, we have to schlep along a good sized chunk of earth with us (relative to our body size).
We need air, water, food, protection from radiation, just the right air pressure, and even entertainment!
Services the earth provides, and we take for granted. Hands down it is far easier and less expensive to send robots into space.
You know what they don't have? Families to mourn them if they die.
On the other hand they are not able to adapt to changes in plan. Apollo 13 proved that people can adapt to changes in plan with a flexibility machines can't even dream of.
That is if machines could dream. By the way, the answer is NO androids do not dream of anything much less sheep (electric or otherwise).
They may, however, count sheep for all I know.
Robo-shepherds at least.
Humans have had one advantage for a very long time and that is adaptability.
Whereas most animals have to adapt biologically over many generations to a new environment, we humans can adapt our culture and tool-kit immediately.
Just got colder?
Guess what? Stick + sharpened stone = fur coat.
Sharpened stick + water = fish sticks.
Well, something like that.
Let's look at two of the most famous robotic explorers of all time: Spirit and Opportunity.
First, let me say that in a straight up fight I could definitely kick their little metal butts. On earth. On Mars I might take one of them down before dying from lack of oxygen and air pressure. I think if I were really mad, I could keep fighting for at least two minutes. If I were totally Hulk mad, I might get close to three.
Now let me say that I have trouble imagining any circumstances that would result in me being that angry with those two adorable little robots. SQUEE!!!
If we're going to get all hypothetical and stuff, let's just compare their progress with mine if I were on Mars. For starters I want to imagine I have a nice safe base to return to and plenty of state-of-the-art don't-let-Jeff-die equipment. No expense is too great for MY imaginary fort on Mars!
First off, the initial cost of the two rovers, plus all costs associated with getting them to Mars (plus tax, tag and title of course) was around $820 million.
The cost to get me to Mars? BILLIONS and BILLIONS of dollars. Score one for the robots.
The rovers were expected to survive on Mars for 90 days.
As of this writing in mid-2010 they are still alive after more than half a decade.
Were I to find myself on Mars I would really, really hope it would be for no more than a year and then feature a nifty return trip.
If it were to be a one-way trip, then if all went extremely well I might survive as much as 20 more years.
My odds of surviving on earth for more than about 30 years are fairly slim, so I think it is probably overly generous to think I could make 20 years on Mars, what with the radiation, the sandstorms and the love-starved Martian princesses.
I'm fairly certain that my mission wouldn't be extended.
The rovers' mission has been extended 5 times.
That's the equivalent of me being there for more than 100 years (the exact equivalency is left as an exercise for the student).
Score one for the robots.
Time for ole Jeff to score one, so here we go.
Back in 2006 one of Spirit's wheels stopped working. Let's say I sprained my ankle. Or even broke it.
Given the right circumstances my ankle would heal. It might never work at 100% efficiency, but it would heal.
Spririt can't heal. Wow, that sounds metaphysical.
Score one for Jeff!
Every rotation of a wheel on those robots is calculated, re-calculated, debated, decided and transmitted to them with about a 15 minute delay for the commands to travel at the speed of frickin' light from earth to the rovers on Mars.
That means no free-wheelin' around the dunes and potentially finding something in a place we didn't think would be worth visiting.
The rovers haven't really travelled very far and only to places we were confident would have something worth seeing.
Humans could make decisions on the fly (most of us don't have 15 minute delays built into our thought processes - at least not after we've had some coffee) and visit places that might unexpectedly yield interesting results.
We can also decide to throw something under a microscope or spectrometer without advanced planning (other than to bring those items along to our Mars base).
Score another one for humans!
So I'll stop there with Man and Machine tied at 2 each. I'll make some trite comments about how both are great and have their place.
Here's the reality: we were able to launch robots to Mars in 1975 and here in the futuristic year 2010 we are more than a decade away from even hoping to send people.
Although I want to see people visit other planets as much as anyone else, I think we get far more bang for the buck with robots.
The day will come when we can more cheaply and reliably send people, and then the equation will tilt.
Our ability to improvise will mean that we can learn about Mars far more rapidly with people than robots.
Once we can keep them from dying, that is.
If we look beyond Mars to the outer planets (or inner ones for that matter), it will be a very long time before we can keep our meaty little selves alive for a visit.
Meanwhile I'll keep looking with wonder at the results of metallic pioneers like Galileo and Cassini.
Let's talk about droids. You know, the droids you are looking for.
In Star Wars we see droids that are clearly sentient.
They are often smarter than the humans and aliens with whom they associate.
I'd be hard pressed to name a more emotional robot than C3PO without resorting to Marvin from Hitchiker's Guide To The Galaxy.
The treatment of the droids is also clearly the treatment of slaves.
If we accept that they are sentient, then they should cease to be treated as inanimate objects and property.
Yet even the noble Jedi treat the droids in the most cavalier ways.
In the first movie we see the use of torture in the Jawa Sandcrawler. We see a boxy little fellow turned upside down and hot irons are applied to his feet. A non-feeling toaster-bot would not have SCREAMED now would he?
When Luke tries to get R2 to play back the hologram of Leia, the little droid states through C3PO that he can't because of the RESTRAINING BOLT.
Would that be electro-shackles?
What does R2 do just as soon as the restraining bolt is removed? He runs away.
The little guy needs an underground, hyperspace railroad.
When you start to think in this way you find yourself asking "Was General Grievous leading a slave rebellion?"
He wasn't fully a droid you say. That quickly sets up a comparison with a mixed-race person, doesn't it?
Over-think much? I'll stop now before someone points out that Star Wars was a popcorn movie targeted at 11 year olds.
You should hear me go off on The Lion King!
Last thing I want to talk about is the picture at the top of the post.
I had that Droid Factory and it was a lot of fun. In retrospect it sure looks like a slave auction, doesn't it?
Now I just feel bad that I didn't free the droids to live their own lives. Of course they fared better than Han Solo whose leg was chewed off by my beagle...