The Inscrutable Mr. Robot

actly do

built it and from those reporting. Unlike the old man who spoke on its behalf, this robot didn't have skin and it wasn't wearing clothes of any kind. It had no hair or eyebrows, and at best, its face

sked The

it, " said T

e robot that was sitting

't get it. We were expecting to be blown aw

point, but this is

ouple of old washing machines stacked tog

spec

something. Make it do somethi

d no doubt defend her own ignorance by labelling the science she did not understand as stupid and irrelevant. But this wo

bot, "

any fingers twitched in nervous wait for what should come next. Nobody dared say a thing. Nobody d

wice and nodded, almost as if he were not only acknowledging his c

" he r

are

replied M

ou ner

lit

le?" asked T

Robot, slamming his

ew laughs from

" said o

" said another, a

He didn't need to. It was that very smile which had kept Mr. Robot safe from every crack of thunder and from every creaking floorboard; and it was that very same smile that had kept all th

gineer asked, "Do you

r. Robot shyly

yone was expecting. It sounded exactly li

ut a gam

said next was u

ought you

hook his he

ould you like

the table. Mr. Robot pointed to one. The Eng

play Operation, " he sa

ke us for a pack of monkeys, " she said, turning r

lowered

here? If this thing is really so smart, then prove it. It should be able to b

r gu

uys. H

nt, or the common layman, or the not so smart – or even you? It is not th

would lose, is wh

y well

ed awkwardly

trategy according to his ever-changing environment. So of course, I don't expect him to be unbeatable at all things, especially on his fir

de the art of losing

a measure of being human. Unthinking, unfeeling machines are consistent. A calculator is consistent. An abacus is consistent. A sundial is consistent. Although, as is the case of Mr. Robot, when we can measure the fault in consistency outside of any perceived pattern, then we can attest a sense of human quality to the machine. What's the most common excuse whenever we let ourselves or other people down? I'm only human. That al

oks like some shitty r

om erupted i

the other compactors and vacuum cleaners. His body was awkward and bulky; and the majority of it was covered in scratches, dents, and rust -

an it wash a car? Can it cook? Can it

any of tho

e room lit up

l genius is in his software – it is in his mind. The body is just a vessel or a capsule to carry and protect something far more valuable; i

g this robot

oday. He is not designed for one or even a select few functions. His goals are not pre-determined. Mr. Robot has general intelligence me

red outcome? What

is y

The Reporter

microphones, speakers, keypads. No different to you or I really, in how we gather information and relate our surroundings, but obviously mechanical and not organic, and therefore not human, right? Although, I can see the gentleman over there with the rathe

n agreement ar

m so different to all the other robots

hing that even he couldn't entirely comprehend – to a room full of baying journalists who had

al ne

lad with his face covered by a scarf and brandishing a handgun, ran from the foy

s nigh!" h

tle absurd after all, and what better way to close it out than with some end of the world rhetoric. Nobody quite kne

his wasn't part of any show. And it was no longer absurd. This was impossibl

and yo

swept across the room as The Young Lad pointed his gun

" he shouted. "And you h

hoed through the entire gallery. Debris rained down ont

s technology will spell out our doom. Creation will transcend creator. Right there at that table, " shouted The Young Lad, pointing his pistol like an objecting finger, "is our successor. A technology that is aware that it exists, a

Young Lad fired a round. And he fired another t

r genesis,

matic, " said The En

eyes and the nozzle of the gun, aimed right

ad the first chapter in a robotics manual and with that gist you have it all figured out? Seen a couple of videos have you? Joined a couple of groups? It is the nature of the ill-in

hat machine th

a simple game, and you're here pointing a g

f and it acts for it

shouting is in the best interests

't know t

of the danger, dear boy. The

ld. Children clung to their parents, lovers to one another, and spectacled bloggers to the once implausible n

it determines its own function that i

he were in the wake of an epileptic fit. Maybe he should have prepared better – some sit-ups, an early morning jog, or replacing

he shouted, his voice hoar

ineer l

en months ago when his software was installed? Why not ten months ago when he recognised his own face out of seven identical prototypes? Why not five months ago when he drew his own portrait? Why not an hour ago when he was too nervous to come up on stage and had to listen to his favourite song on headphones? Why now, at this specific event, on this speci

ntial to destroy

s to do harm? And why must harm mean something as catastrophic as the extinction of mankind? Why can't harm be something that is more likely? Maybe he steps on your flowerbed by accident, or his metallic feet scuff your newly polished f

ot that s

should be this doomsday device certain to eradicate its

, " he said again. "W

his forehead. He paced back and forth for a few seconds say

ourse it bloody well is, boy, you're going to die. We're all going to die. Just yesterday, a hell of a lot of people died. It's what happens. You exist, you should be aware of that, but you repress your existential dread into comfortable and soothing ideas, and instead of dealing with it individually - which is not only you

ite chalk across the board, and like some break in the waves or a bloody cease-fire, a stupefying calm swept over eve

gun in his mouth and

ody did anything. They all stared at the limp body in childlike disbelief. A second later, though, anyone with any co

entist but still, the way he looked at the human, you'd think he was ten feet smaller than the world abou

or the height of his indecision, one smile from The Engineer was enough to put Mr. Robot at ease and make him feel like he co

re ok, " he s

ack of Mr. Robot's head,

t. You're not in any danger. I

hat, " said

hy do you loo

t the one he wore now was unmistakable. Even a day old

asked The Engineer l

reat was gone; there were no more monsters, the thunder was gone, and the sun was

feel bad. Come here and l

fit around the

f what they don't know and they hype themselves into imagining the worst and then being big crazy scaredy cats. There's no such thing as The Singularity. It's like

ked too asham

" said The

he robot

y robot from