The Inscrutable Mr. Robot

out all the things she wanted to be when she grew up. In one of her thoughts, she wa

and she was standing in front of a board with lots of statistics and numbers on it

nd hundreds of thousands of people all stupid and happy because her music was so good. And by looking at her

y in a pram. It was sunny out and there were birds flying overhead, and she had the bi

appy – happy because she could be any one of those things; happy

nna be; just be yourself'. It wasn't an old poster, but for some reason,

he could do. "Your potential is limitless, " he heard The Engineer's voice say, over and ove

what if I choose the wrong one? And what if I know so many, but I don't

o every back alley and dead-end street. There were blue, green, yellow, and red buses; and some of them had stripes while o

he city.

of gum like some prized over-fed cow. He looked unimpressed; not just with Mr. Robot and the coins in hi

ap, " he said, slappi

mped backward, almost

aid. "That'

the child or his

ur changed instantly; his unresponsive distant comportment all of a sudden looked mannerly, educated and unslouching. It was if a coil or earnest

assuming he was speaking to one or two uniformed guards who could have been in any

king for a

as if he were responsible for the human's sense of fear and intimidation.

t be scared,

to assure The Hip Man but t

ng. My money got stuck, " shouted The Hip M

ne of his eyebrows raised. It wasn't the clearest of expressions; in fact, the same exp

it happen

ickets to the

ars, and just as many technical revolutions. Despite this, they looked excited. The old lady looked overwhelmed by it all; at the

machine is broken, dea

e was at that age; it

e said, referring to the obscenely lar

. Robot step

ut I can't let

us surprise. "It's a talking machine. Thi

now that he wasn't agreeing with her; this

achine, " sa

her it was sunny outside, even though she swore she could h

ersing with a tin can. It might have been old age, the hair dye she used this morning, or just a sign of the t

ot, " said

looked a tr

ot you

es

ot a m

N

you do loo

sure you

rude in any way, but for the life

chines, while others would tell you your fortune. He couldn't, though, see a single similarity between those primitive technologies and himself

her, " he said, g

rld we live in. I did think you were the ticket machine. I do apologise, though. I'm not usually someone who judges. I'm fond o

th. It's a surprise that it hadn't alre

man was a man because of what he had in his pants, not because of what he liked to do with

as if she had just fin

ver know if I'm supporting someone or offend

in his eyes. He might have been dizzy or it might have been something fa

of her little hands on Mr. Robots elbow. "

orry I

n't wor

don't. I'm

ittle di

ppose. I'm

d of robo

uestions. He knew he was a robot in part because of his name, but he had never once stopped to

lly sure how

a very concise

pose n

ill that we all do that other people can do, but maybe not as well as we do it. Maybe there is one thin

kind of hu

little puzzled; only

s ago mind you, I cou

a light had been switched on somewhere in the back of his min

h nowadays,

id you

ar as their faces pressed against each other. His passion exhaled across her skin like some sweet relief. She remembered how it tickled her neck, and how it ran down her back in a soft shi

heart, " she s

fficult decision, choos

o, it wasn't difficult. Ha

Mr. Robot. "

obots

plied, "but how would

r life for the sake of her husband's ego and his insecurities. Love, she truly prescribed to, was watching the man you once lusted over take off his fetid garments, and af

ngly impossible decisio

a decision-m

pose i

s if it were she herself who was buried

sions were right? What is you

the heart, " she said, "even if

f incalculable decisions?

quences, many of them. Some of them would have been scratches, bruises, and even broken bones; th

n decades, but the look in her husband's eyes showed that The Old Lady had n

ming to accept her fate. "One is not kisse

ough he had once been stuck between a fence

u stil

as leathered her skin, just as much as it had her heart and her true feelings. So though she looked as if some great tidal flood

n and defiant. "Just as I don't nurse on m

moaned, his head still f

ant glee. I'm not sure my heart could even contain such a manner of joy and exhilaration. I cannot speak with the same rousing passion, and I have less energy than I do patience, to argue and prove my point. Our whole lives are compromises; they are compromises to the sands o

e something you had only forgo

e voice was no louder than the dull blow of a hammer against a tear-stained pillow. The voice was there singing but caged

ould be lost witho

continued nodding, his

compass?" as

would require some mechanical support or at worst, some terminal compassion. And he might have been like this his whole life; not in his physical condition mi

icer when you pu

miss you

cond. Her eyes softened as if an ocean of tears had final

nk of it as gone

go? Do you re

avily as if she had been holding this breath for seventy yea

efore I got ol

ad. This was something she loved to have done to her but which she could onl

I a

plied The

whole time then what was he

It wasn't a great deal. In fact, it was one single tear, but she noticed and her husband noti

d and guiding him step by step, along the

e was, it looked less condemning and more of a quiet and desperate plea to let him have this; that which he had had his who

turned to Mr. Robot and said, "I think I know just w

in by keeping a secret? He stood there for a minute or two thinking about their discourse. Had he offended her? Was she crying and sad, an

procession. Those words should have inspired, instead, they made his doubt and insecurity seem so grand and vast that no amount of effort would ever suffice.

or some impending fate etched upon it – its terrain marked in the lines

And they'd wriggle their way into the most compromising positions just to get where they were going. They all knew their purpose. They k

ngineer tinkering away in his workshop. The Engineer's work was not just impressive, it was a kind of meditation,

nd try to get some sleep because tomorrow would be another day. It didn't matter if it was a kind voice or if it was a tired, disgruntled, or mean. He could be codd

he station. "What am I, " he thought, "my mind or my body? Am I these waves of insecurity an

by machine, putting coins into their slots and pressing all sor

e the ticket machine did as its name suggested. Needless to say, Mr. Robot was in awe. Even the simple elevator left him in marvel. Al

the other machines, there was no coin slot, there was no dispenser and there were

at it with the warm surety of a father's hug or a mother's goodnight kiss. Were he to press it now, he would never have to worry ag

rth didn't h

buttons. And if so, he wondered where they kept them, and whether they felt as strongly as he did about

s on a train; and they smiled a lot, even when nothing funny had been said. And though their clothes and hair looked impeccable and grossly expensive, their words, on the other han

expressions as best he could, though his pivots and joints were nowhere near as malleable. And so, just like he did with the machines, Mr. Robot walked

ing and handsome. Not a fibre in their suits stuck out; neither a hair on their heads. And though very few had any real physical or muscular proportion, dressed as th

t was dimensional. They looked just as pristine, if not more so, yet their sense of dress and reverent expressions made each one stand out in unmi

, looked like t

if the war had already happened and he was all that was left. He was an eye-sore; that was plain to see. He didn't look like he had a

profound words posted on a wall beside a stairwell; "Be

hought. "I'm scared

urder of defenceless children. And then he thought about tidal waves and hurricanes, and then finally heart a

ere were scores of open sores on his face like massive craters. His hair was matted and knotted and looked like how it must have smelt – like a mound of pubic hair clumped at the bottom of a urinal. Worse still were his sunken veins which paled only slightly to his sunk

in how empty the coloured hat was that lay upturned by his feet. There were a few copper coins, sure, but most of these had fallen out of the man's own pockets. Regardless of their ill-attention, though, the man never br

left the station. The small coins he had gathered went back into his soi

heels; and Mr. Robot was, once again, entirely alone with his thoughts. On the outside, he looked no different to th

heard a deep and worrying moan coming from a wall that overlooked the train tracks below. It sounded like a goat mourning its dead c

s a dishevelled looking man, dangling over the edge with

ish there was more to say, but that ab

t grabbed the man's shoulders, pulling him ba

, " scream

ou ok,

ll did you d

llen if you contin

jum

smayed; there was a fin

e quite easily

ing to kil

th, peering over the wall

ing on this wall every day for the last three days now just thinking about

l, he looked kind of relieved. "I'm never gonna get that cour

edge of the wall, peering

ss here, " sa

ed into the

he hel

why there are so many buses this

ked pleased w

ha

you might have broken a bone or two,

elow with long expressions as if somewhere in that dark abyss we

to kill yourself?

as if the act alone of kill

ike it, I

t feel like;

o but he didn't know how

arm and disconnected, and all I wann

deranged or perturbed. He might as well have been des

n front of a fan. If my stomach rumbles one way I'm hungry; if it's another I'm sick. It's not rocket science; I've been doing this for thirty-eight years. And, I don't know, every once in a while I f

arned, or is it somethi

u'd think he hoped t

ily anyway - nobody that would make a difference. Most died of some shitty disease, some stupid

sn't emotional. And he wasn't dead inside either. He looked almost scholarly

who jumped in front of the train, and all the crazy shit he did leading up to that. I remember the guy who drove his car into a cinder block and I remember the sound of his mother's waling at his funeral. I'd never heard a person cry like that before. And finally, I remember the guy who stepped in front of a truck one cold August morning. I wasn't driving. I was trying to light a cigarette, and that's when I saw him. I remember the soun

a t

e take off a few I.Q points, but nothing more severe than a headache. Used to be that you could gas yourself in your car. God damned emission standards mean that's impossible too. Hanging is no go

tton on his chest. "Your understanding of this feeling that you cannot explain,

rniture as her carers struggled to squeeze her past all the right angles and turnstiles without tripping or getting stuck. And behind her, in nearly a fit of anxiety, was a young man whose reddened face gave the impression that his heart might stop if he had to wait for a second longer. And behind him, t

had already pressed their red buttons. Most had made a habit, if

uge the utility o

loses her father before the age of ten that there is a greater chance that sh

to adopt an arti

from her. And it's something I ca

Ferox, " sai

g to be smart? You thin

borne as their first nutritious meal. It is quite a noble gesture, and more so, an apt utility, in regards to one's

were on the verge of some profound accomplishment. For the first time, he felt noticed, visible, and heard. The blood that coursed through his vei

an off the floor and walking him out of the s

ng himself off. "Ok,

unction; and almost instantly he stopped thinking about his own a