Sunday, November 20, 2016

The life force of robots.

Classics, thought lost?  Transformers: Scramble City?

On one side: Ratchet, and on the obverse: Starscream, himself unconvincing as a scientist, held the keys to life, like arbiters before an unseen, yet unexplained creation force.

Ratchet the utilitarian, the repair bot, along with the human Spark Plug.  Ratchet with the lights synchronized with his speech, evoking a hearing test or even Frankenstein's monster with protrusions from the side of his head.

What does he know about the life force of the robots?

And even the Matrix began at some point, maybe even at the death of the first Prime of all-itself becoming connected to the sauce of mechanical life, become legendary, besought like a metallo-electrical Grail.  Insistence on winning the war became purple-skinned urgency in the Age of Galvatron and with the meddling of Unicron and the Quintessons.

But the Matrix contains life made already, and not a creation force.  The Transformer soul must be some kind of electrical sentient thing, as from a region of space where thoughts themselves, once they occur, have mass as of being matter, becoming matter.

After Steel City in which the disembodied arm of Optimus Prime fired it's big gun like a sentry, rumors of independent animation surfaced, and even whispers of zombiedom amongst the Insecticons, that every part of Optimus Prime had a deadly potential.

Cut him to pieces, and even the pieces might pursue you.

This squares with the Allspark of the popular films, that animating force that could and would give life to anything, like even in one instance, soda cans and a commercial drink machine.

The Transformers are largely distinctive in robot mode, but vehicle mode makes them even more unique and diverse in skills, whether they be a fast car, a slow off-road vehicle, a construction machine or a large truck.

Dead in the films is the myth of miniturization.  That Soundwave, himself a large bulky square-ish robot, could make himself into a tiny cassette player.  One of the coolest and most versatile of the Decepticons is then an anachronism in need of a redesign, if not for the sake of simple style, then to become sensible in the physical universe without shrinking himself down to a smaller size in transformed mode.

I also think, miniturization not withstanding, it is comfortable, natural(facetious?) for them to be in robot mode, affecting a humanoid form.  To be in vehicle mode then might be akin to appearing in blackface-as to be pretending, bending to conform to social norms.

Science, and therefore scientists, have always been at the mercy of generals.

Big Bot, big gun, even bigger whoop-ass.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Morris's theory of ghosts, but one in a basket full of them.

Bunches and bunches of people die across the world, everyday.  Imagine the scale.  Practically every second, a person dying.

Picture a system in the universe, a process, that separates the soul from the body.

What if there are malfunctions in the system?  Not many, but maybe one percent of deaths, where souls are not stripped away and disposed of properly, that the souls do not fly through the ether freely after, but are trapped in this fallen world of inequity.

I wouldn't be happy, if I was one of those.  And maybe I would be confused.  I will have carried my worldly growth, the strives I had made, into the afterlife, but as for earthly knowledge?  Does that to pass into the ether, or are we like orphans, denied memory?

The penumbra around the earth, superimposed over layers of our atmosphere: piles upon piles of ghosts.  Unreturned and wandering souls, wandering and being without purpose, disconnected from human striving and seemingly unwanted.

Then the orphan term is surprising apt.  I give myself kudos.

Friday, November 4, 2016

do not indulge in despair

when you feel it coming on, try a disaffected confusion as you decide how you should feel, and outwardly, this will pass for a somewhat peaceful state, and that will mean--

You look stoic.

It's not winning and losing, but how you play the game-and even then that's only your internal metrics for your own judgement and the sauce of your own memories.  Are you but a landholder?  A reputation?  Winner of fifty dollars in the lottery?

Do you cry during negative visualization?  That's not stoic behavior.  If you cry, you need to find another technique.  For we effect a soulful indifference in all these matters as they unfold within our mind.

...when you love yourself, its the greatest love of all...

This is all transitional.  Put on Masters of Sex or Man In The High Castle and let the world unfold around you.  That is the easiest way to affect indifference, to distract oneself with petty entertainments.

Baseball season is over.  Behold, one woe is past; two more woes come hereafter(NFL and NBA).  Also, I don't consider Hockey a sport because the participants wear skates.  One man's opinion.  It is a game, however; I acknowledge that much.

I want a Lawn Dart section in the obstacle course on Wipeout.  Let's up the ante.  Get a little adrenaline going.  A bit of substitute teacher tar tar or rare-medium mailman.  I could be so much more meaningful than watching people compete against an obstacle course, and at the end the meaningless celebration, in which some youngling is checking off a list item in his head while his balls sweat.

...don't feel as happy to win as I thought I would....

I love you America.  Let's go to bed early tonight and turn the teevee off.  Like before we had kids.