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This page contains all of the posts and discussion on MemeStreams referencing the following web page: Cory Doctorow | I, Robot. You can find discussions on MemeStreams as you surf the web, even if you aren't a MemeStreams member, using the Threads Bookmarklet.
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Cory Doctorow | I, Robot
by Dolemite at 8:34 am EST, Feb 16, 2005 |
] "This is R Peed Robbert, McNicoll and Don Mills
] bus-shelter."
]
] "That's nice. This is Detective Icaza de Arana-Goldberg,
] three blocks east of you on Picola. Proceed to my
] location at once, priority urgent, no sirens."
]
] "Acknowledged. It is my pleasure to do you a service,
] Detective."
]
] "Shut up," he said, and hung up the phone. The R Peed
] - Robot, Police Department - robots were the
] worst, programmed to be friendly to a fault, even as they
] surveilled and snitched out every person who walked past
] their eternally vigilant, ever-remembering electrical
] eyes and brains.
]
] The R Peeds could outrun a police car on open ground on
] highway. He'd barely had time to untwist his clenched
] hands from the steering wheel when R Peed Robbert was at
] his window, politely rapping on the smoked glass. He
] didn't want to roll down the window. Didn't want to smell
] the dry, machine-oil smell of a robot. He phoned it
] instead. Cory Doctorow is writing short stories again, but with a vengeance. This is his latest whereby he writes of the future where patents have limited creativity and there is only one kind of robot left in the world. He also called it "I, Robot" as part of his new effort to write new stories with the same title as a famous story by another author. It's a bit of a protest of all the bitching about Michael Moore using "Fahrenheit 9/11" as a title since it is so close to "Fahrenheit 451". Anyway, enjoy. Dolemite |
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RE: Cory Doctorow | I, Robot
by cyantist at 3:46 am EST, Mar 12, 2005 |
Dolemite wrote:
] ] "This is R Peed Robbert, McNicoll and Don Mills
] ] bus-shelter."
] ]
] ] "That's nice. This is Detective Icaza de Arana-Goldberg,
] ] three blocks east of you on Picola. Proceed to my
] ] location at once, priority urgent, no sirens."
] ]
] ] "Acknowledged. It is my pleasure to do you a service,
] ] Detective."
] ]
] ] "Shut up," he said, and hung up the phone. The R Peed
] ] - Robot, Police Department - robots were the
] ] worst, programmed to be friendly to a fault, even as they
] ] surveilled and snitched out every person who walked past
] ] their eternally vigilant, ever-remembering electrical
] ] eyes and brains.
] ]
] ] The R Peeds could outrun a police car on open ground on
] ] highway. He'd barely had time to untwist his clenched
] ] hands from the steering wheel when R Peed Robbert was at
] ] his window, politely rapping on the smoked glass. He
] ] didn't want to roll down the window. Didn't want to smell
] ] the dry, machine-oil smell of a robot. He phoned it
] ] instead.
]
] Cory Doctorow is writing short stories again, but with a
] vengeance. This is his latest whereby he writes of the future
] where patents have limited creativity and there is only one
] kind of robot left in the world. He also called it "I, Robot"
] as part of his new effort to write new stories with the same
] title as a famous story by another author. It's a bit of a
] protest of all the bitching about Michael Moore using
] "Fahrenheit 9/11" as a title since it is so close to
] "Fahrenheit 451".
]
] Anyway, enjoy.
]
] Dolemite Go Cory! |
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Cory Doctorow | I, Robot
by Decius at 1:49 am EST, Feb 22, 2005 |
] "This is R Peed Robbert, McNicoll and Don Mills
] bus-shelter."
]
] "That's nice. This is Detective Icaza de Arana-Goldberg,
] three blocks east of you on Picola. Proceed to my
] location at once, priority urgent, no sirens."
]
] "Acknowledged. It is my pleasure to do you a service,
] Detective."
]
] "Shut up," he said, and hung up the phone. The R Peed
] - Robot, Police Department - robots were the
] worst, programmed to be friendly to a fault, even as they
] surveilled and snitched out every person who walked past
] their eternally vigilant, ever-remembering electrical
] eyes and brains.
]
] The R Peeds could outrun a police car on open ground on
] highway. He'd barely had time to untwist his clenched
] hands from the steering wheel when R Peed Robbert was at
] his window, politely rapping on the smoked glass. He
] didn't want to roll down the window. Didn't want to smell
] the dry, machine-oil smell of a robot. He phoned it
] instead. Finally bothered to read this. Its fun. |
Cory Doctorow | I, Robot
by noteworthy at 2:16 am EST, Mar 1, 2005 |
His ex-wife. He hadn't thought of her in years. Well, months. Weeks, certainly. She'd been a brilliant computer scientist, the valedictorian of her Positronic Complexity Engineering class at the UNATS Robotics school at the University of Toronto. Dumping her husband and her daughter was bad enough, but the worst of it was that she dumped her country and its way of life. Now she was ensconced in her own research lab in Beijing, making the kinds of runaway Positronics that made the loathsome robots of UNATS look categorically beneficent. He itched to wiretap her, to read her email or listen in on her phone conversations. He could have done that when they were still together, but he never had. If he had, he would have found out what she was planning. He could have talked her out of it. |
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