Robots are about to embark on a right of passage shared by Olympians and The Biggest Loser contestants alike, running around a track over 400 times for a marathon. I am all for the robot revolution. I wistfully envy the vacuum bot in most households. Sign me up for the self loading dishwasher. But running a robot in circles over 400 times doesn’t seem like the most exciting sport to watch.
Game day. The crowd silences. The starter pistol fires. Some dude on a floor above is shot in the foot. The crowd cheers. Reporters frenzy with pictures. The tiny little robots start walking. A bit later… they are still walking. Some of the crowd wander away to get coffee. Again later… yep, more walking. The guy upstairs bled to death. Much later…. still more walking… WILL THIS RACE EVER END?
Finally… what feels like eons later… the race is drawing to a close. A robot is almost to the finish line that looks strangely like the last four hundred plus lines it crossed. The crowd, asleep, twitches a little. They are dreaming about pie. A reporter is stirred from his slumber. His ex-wife, whom remarried a diamond baron from South Africa, sent him a snarky wish you where here text message from a private island in Dubai. The robot is about to cross the finish line! Slow motion, as if the race could move any slower!
Queue the Chariots of Fire music! The robot is still crossing the finish line! The historical moment is about to slip by. He reaches for his camera, wondering why he his going in slow motion. He snaps a photo of his penis. Sends it to his ex-wife with a message, “Wish you were here… NOT!” He finally understands! He doesn’t really need her! She treats him like dirt! Why doesn’t he move on? She obviously has. Somewhere in the background, the race finishes with robot controllers hugging and cheering for each other.
The question remains. Why didn’t they make a robot race along a path like a real marathon? At least the scenery would change.
Time Burrito 