|Summary: stuff I did
||[Aug. 14th, 2006|02:13 pm]
Thursday: Games at Tom O's place in the evening. Playtested Dan's election game. Played Claim Jumper (I think) with Kate and Matt K., which was fun, then mused about forces of history.|
Friday: Going-away part for a coworker in the evening at other coworker's gorgeously-located house up in the hills. Then went with kung_fu_monkey to pick up his brother at the airport at midnight. (He's come into town to work at the software-testing company Jerry works at for a while.)
Saturday: Third birthday party for Liese, the Floyds' daughter. Pink sparkly shoes were a big hit. Did a Barbie Tarot reading for returntoshore. Indulged my compulsive tendencies by making little-kid bead necklaces and bracelets with carefully-sorted color gradients.
Yesterday: Weirdly cranky all day long for no good reason. Was planning to work on some projects, but everything was annoying. Re-read books (I, Robot by Asimov and Monstrous Regiment by Pratchett) instead. Hid in the bedroom so as not to bite people. Huge thunderstorm in the evening. Played a little X-Men with Jerry and his brother before bedtime.
Today: Dinking about with web form. Had an interesting brainstorm about one of my perpetual gaming projects (totally unrelated to all the stuff I've been attempting to work on lately) on the way to work. Debating how early to head home.
How so, resistant to robots? I'm curious now.
I have yet to come up with a good "butterscotch" kind of explanation for robots. (Butterscotch is the reason I use to explain why I don't like Ursula Le Guin. If I say, "I don't like Le Guin," people want to convince me that I am wrong, that if I read just one more book I will suddenly be converted. But if I say, "I can't read Le Guin. I got sick from too many butterscotch chips while reading Earthsea," people will accept that reading is a subjective experience and that there is nothing they can do about my not liking Le Guin.)
Why am I resistant to robots? I don't know. I just generally dislike fiction with robots. I don't like anthropomorphism, either. Ditto for talking inanimate objects. (Tom Robbins' books with talking condiments particularly get on my nerves. At least animals and robots have the machinery for intelligence.)
Does that explain it? Everytime people get started on Asimov and the robot laws (which I much admit are a very elegant framework to hang stories on) and the conflict that ensues, it makes me a little cranky.
My brother and I have this joke stemming from his early adolescence. He asked me, "Sarah, how do I talk to girls?"
I said, "Well you start by getting them to talk to you. Try to find something you have in common, like, 'Do you like robots?'"
Ever since then, "Do you like robots?" has become shorthand for bad pick up lines. It was a joke, but the hilarious thing is that he has met several girls it has worked on, and I know lots of guys who'd go for it, too.
It remains to be seen if I also resist robots outside of fiction. But if my brother makes me read Asimov, I will at least give him a try. The best way to get me to read anything is to give me a book. It might sit around for a year before I get 'round to it, but I almost always at least try it. Guilt and curiousity will always get the better of me.