Don’t Give My Yellow Boxes To The Robot

Neon robot via Torley Olmstead.

Good morning. Or is it morning? The global network is gummed up by time zones — maybe we should sync our cycles. I’ll won’t sleep until 3am; you rise with the grey dawn. As long as there still is a dawn. Pundits keep harping on about how climate change will impact the shorelines, but will it stretch or shrink the length of a day? I don’t know science, but this seems entirely possible. Besides, time is a construct. (Allow me to re-emphasize that I don’t know science.)

The human body is inadequate. Our biology is wedded to light levels that don’t matter anymore. Light levels should be the concern of solar panels, not self-actualized persons. Or, y’know, regular old self-loathing persons:

Robotic hair transplants via Jesse Montgomery on Twitter: “the least reassuring sign in Nashville”.

I visited WeGrowHair.com and learned, “Not just another hair loss gimmick, PAI Medical Group of Nashville is all about the full-service approach, offering proven hair loss treatments with guaranteed results. Our committed and specialized hair restoration surgeons attract valued patients from all over the world, making PAI one of the most reputable and in-demand hair transplant practices in the country.”

If you hate yourself, you can pay a lot of money to augment an aspect of your physical self that hardly matters. Or just wait for the inevitable mutation…

Kafka joke by Dan Abromowitz, also on Twitter.

Remember, don’t give my yellow boxes to the robot. The robot doesn’t deserve my yellow boxes.