Cru Jones Society

To complete this week’s trifecta of weirdness, it’s my turn to share with you what my life would be like if I had a robot. Our criteria was very simple. Using any technology you want, including technology that has even been invented yet (and some that most likely will never exist), what features would your robot have, what would it look like, and what would a day with such a robot entail?

Both Hart and Brad decided to use their robots for pure pleasure and ridiculous fun. Hart’s robot played theme music, shouted out Jeopardy! questions for whenever he got bored, and shaved his head and face whenever he wanted. Brad chose features that would make anyone’s inner 8 year-old squeal with glee, what with his ice cream shooting arm, pogo legs, giant knockers, and never-ending supply of good time Huey Lewis music. While the allure of a hot lather shave on demand and traveling via pogo on the back of a big-titted ice cream producer are both undeniably alluring, I chose to take a different tack with my robot.

Life is filled with weird complications, many of which are unavoidable and completely unsolvable. Since we’re dealing completely in the realm of fantasy here, my robot is designed to solve the unsolvable, to combat the day-to-day hassles we can’t untangle ourselves from, to make life better for all mankind.

Scratch that. This robot is designed to make life better for me. Screw humanity. I’m using my fictitious dream science to improve my life, and my life alone. Got better ideas for your own robot? Write to us at staff@crujonessociety.com and tell us what your dream robot does, and we’ll publish it either as exclusive Facebook content, or maybe even in the CJS Weekend Edition. Make it a paragraph, make it an essay. Just tell us what your robot does and why, and you could show up as a CJS contributor.

But for now, here’s my robot.

Feature #1: Babelfish

If you’ve ever read Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, you likely remember near the beginning of the first book when Arthur Dent climbs aboard the spaceship he’s given a Babelfish, which, according to CJS Regular Tron (thanks for your help in filling in the blanks of my memory, btw), is a creature you put in your ear that eats and craps brainwaves allowing everyone to understand everyone else no matter what language they speak. Considering this book takes place throughout the galaxy, the Babelfish is vital to inter-species communication and, on a practical level, allows the characters an easy way to communicate each other without annoying the audience.

Why do I need this today? It’s not like I communicate regularly with anyone who speaks another language (although I would like to know what the Hispanic guys in our building say about that fat Captain Kangaroo lookalike who smells like cheap cigarettes on the floor above me), but since Hitchhiker was written in 1979, it’s time for an upgrade.

My robot produces Babelfish on demand and distributes them at my whim. First recipient: Lady E. Her Babelfish takes all the inane references I drop in a day from obscure bad movies of the last 20 years, goofy punk songs, and wherever the hell else and translates them into whatever relevant cultural reference she’ll understand and think is hilarious. I can’t count how many times per day (Vegas has set the over/under at 22.5 occurrences) I reference something she doesn’t understand, I explain it and thereby unfunny it, she nods in recognition, and I think to myself, “Damn, I wish Senor Limon were here. That would’ve killed.” With my Babelfish producing robot, I become at least 75% funnier to my wife, and she doesn’t have to roll her eyes nearly as much (which has got to be tiring on her ocular cavity). Win win!

Additionally, my idiot bosses would understand what I mean when I refer to a press release as the “Platonic ideal of a press release,” that dumb bitch in college would know why I referred to her Parliament cigarette as a “P-Funk” and I could finally find out if Buttfore thinks it’s funny when Lady E or I change the words from Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” to “Kitten Face” and serenade him with it. You not only now understand every language ever, your dorky references no longer fall flat! Hallelujah!

Feature #2: Roadway Clairvoyance

When I drive, I am in the moment. I know how to drive from work downtown to my house in the Eastern suburbs using three left turns and no lane changes. I think about the most efficient way to get from Point A to Point B, memorize the timing of stoplights on frequently-traveled routes, and successfully anticipate the movement of other cars based solely on their car body language. I’m courteous and safe, but assertive. I know what the hell I’m doing behind the wheel. Despite this nearly psychotic attention to detail to my driving acumen and years spent honing my craft, I’m pissed off roughly 93% of the time behind the wheel.

And why? Because most people are morons. No one knows how to drive in this town. Because my route home from involves two such maneuvers, it drives me positively mad that people in this town don’t realize you can turn left on red from a one-way onto another one-way. Why do you think there’s a sign that says “Turns on red prohibited while pedestrians are present” you idiot?! That implies a turn on red is otherwise permitted!!! Dammit!

That’s why my robot travels in the car with me and telepathically sends me all the info I need to know about all the other drivers on the road. I need to know if skidmark up there in his Caprice is talking on the phone and will be slow off the line at the next red light. I need to know if mother-of-three in the minivan will drive fast enough to make the next light. I want to hear if the asshat in the Kangol cap behind me is drunk, or if the dude 90 degrees from me at a four-way stop is planning to let me through first. If I knew where everyone else’s head was at, I’d be completely unstoppable behind the wheel, and I’d be able to adjust accordingly. Of course, I’d probably go insane after realizing that no one is thinking about their driving with any level of sophistication whatsoever, but as long as it got me to work in the most efficient manner possible, I’m a happy boy.

Feature #3: Pocket-Sized Portability

I’ll admit I initially just wanted an all-purpose robot like Bender from “Futurama” with his chest cabinet of infinity, but the more I thought about that, the less I wanted a giant tin garbage can clogging up my house. My robot fits in your pocket no bigger than a T-Mobile Sidekick. Since so far he’s producing only small Babelfish and telepathically telling me how others drive, he needn’t be human-sized. I don’t need a friend, I need real solutions to everyday annoyances! Thus, my robot fits in your pocket and goes with you wherever you need to go. And he’s waterproof. And he can produce a Poppler (like from that episode of Futurama) out of his ass whenever you get hungry. And he could make calls and texts with no oppressive plan from a service provider. And he weirdly reminds you of Joyce Hyser’s cross-dressing character Terry from Just One of the Guys when you look at hm.

Feature #4: Video Game Adaptability

The first time I watched Multiplicity, I remember thinking I wanted my own clone just to play video games against. No one could ever beat me at WWF: No Mercy on the N64, and I used to regularly torch Deuce and Tron at NBA Live on Dreamcast in college. I needed an even match, and the prospect of lining up against myself for the best game of Madden ever was drool-worthy. Would I have to re-invent my game and think completely outside the box? Would the clone? Or would it just come down to who executed the best? The prospect was beyond exciting, it was video gaming on another level.

So I’d be remiss if I didn’t have my robot include a built-in adapter that plugged into any video game system ever invented ready to give me the most evenly matched video game experience of my life. Being married is fantastic, and ever since I’ve found the right woman, I’d rather wake up and punch myself in the face every day for the rest of time than be single again, but playing video games with your wife isn’t the same as playing against your friends. As much fun as it is in its own way, there’s just something missing. It could be that you can’t call her “Half Man-Half F***suck” like Tron called me once during a heated game of NBA Live, but who knows? With my robot, you’ll never want for a video game partner again – he’ll just be in your pocket ready to take you on and match your exact skill level at any given time on any game. Tell me this isn’t something you’re ready to plunk down $1,000 for right now.

Feature #5: Electroshock Transmitter

In my day-to-day world, I deal with a a metric ton of douche bags. Working in the communications industry will lead to that. So whenever I’m dealing with a new client, competitor, vendor, solicitor, colleague, or anyone else who reeks of vinegar and speaks like its spilling out of the end of a wet hose dangling from the inside of their craw, my little robot friend (nestled comfortably in my pocket) will send a little jolt of electricity through my farewell handshake and land right in their testicles.

Yep, a little jolt right in the pills. Nothing damaging, but enough that’ll make ‘em jump and say, “Jesus, my balls are on fire!” If it’s a lady, it’ll zap ‘em right in the fallopian tube. She’ll shriek, “Bang my ovary!” and everyone will wonder what’s up with the new guy/girl. You get to undress intellectual impostors, joggle jackasses, and zap nitwits. You get to make an asshole’s day awkward with an unexpected rush of electricity to their reproductive organs, doing no damage, but enacting a little silent justice on those who piss you off. It’s a little harmless god play that’ll help you through the day and make others think twice about crossing you.

If I had a robot, I’d like to think my life would be easier, but ultimately, knowing me, I’d probably just find something else to complain about (and find more ways to write sentences with 4 freaking commas – Jesus!). But I suppose having my wife understand my cultural references, anticipating jackassery on the road, having all the functionality in the size of a deck of playing cards, enjoying awesome video game showdowns at the drop of a hat, and mildly traumatizing life’s villains would eliminate the need for a lot of bitching.

Regardless, feel free to tell us about your dream robot. Send us a paragraph or an essay (staff@crujonessociety.com), and we’ll share it with the CJS nation. And don’t forget to answer this week’s Confessional while you’re at it.

Until Happy Friday…

edagger@crujonessociety.com