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Showing posts from February, 2011

Old Bowie song

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This isn’t an old song by David Bowie.  It’s an old song about David Bowie (in outer space) by Flight of the Conchords.

Valentines Day Quiz: name the sexy robots

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Being a Sci Fi geek can be lonely, so for Valentine’s Day here’s a little quiz.. Can you name these sexy robots?

There is a theory, in robotics, called the “Uncanny Valley,"  which states that when robots and other facsimiles of humans look and act almost like real humans, it causes a response of revulsion among people.  We Humans have no problem if  the robot looks like a mechanical device, as in the case of Robby from Forbidden Planet.  But if the machine gets too real, it frightens us. when you start to cross the uncanny valley you must go all the way across.  You can’t stop in the middle. Remember how creepy Polar Express was. The facsimile HAS to be perfect or it is horrific.

So here is your quiz.  Can you name what shows these “machines” are from.  I am not going to make it easy, so don’t expect me to include Seven from Battlestar Galactica.  I know what you are saying, “these girls don’t look like automatons.” But don’t be fooled.  If you look deep into their eyes, you ca…

Vlad the Astrophysicist

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Peter Mulvey has a serene voice, and a poetic way of explaining why, after all these years of looking, we have still not discovered intelligent life in the universe…and he plays a great guitar.

Life After the Wardrobe Malfunction

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As I write this, in the year 7 AWM (after wardrobe malfunction), the terrain that stretches before me is a scorched burned-out wasteland. We should have listened to the conservative pundits on the TV and radio. When they said that “the malfunction” would destroy society, we mocked them. When they described it as a Grotesque peep show, we labeled it a manufactroversy. We laughed, calling it TheBoob Bomb and Nipplegate. We should have heeded their warnings. Now it’s too late. Now in hindsight, we see how right the conservatives actually were. Like the lone lookout on the bow of the titanic, begging the captain to slow down. He alone knew that soon the cloak of night would be ripped away to reveal the towering, dark, silhouette of destruction, which was Janet Jackson’s breast.