This one is a touch early, but I have electrifying plans for Valentine’s Day, plans involving a microchip, some silicone, a tube of lip-gloss, and lots and lots of whipped cream.
As a matter of fact, these thoughts have stewed in my mind since driving home and catching David Levy on the radio talking about his recent book, Love and Sex with Robots: The Evolution of Human-Robot Relationships.
Since then I’ve been entertaining the possibilities of a robotic lover, and I must say they are not as grim as the conservative radio host and his many callers claimed; in fact, their shock and “superiority” belie their hypocrisy.
Who hasn’t been romantically involved with someone that might be classified as an artificial intelligence?
I can only speak for myself when I say that a relationship devoid drama would be a blessing. And rather than wasting time arguing, she and I might spend our time playing chess. I would probably lose – even my computer beats me at chess, but at least our relationship would be reasonable.
Now if reason is anathema to the way you live your life – most people are not reasonable – I’m certain the manufacturer could program your mate with the right amount of idiosyncrasies, so you might have a little drama in your life.
As for myself, I would take my robot lover to my magnificent rocket ship and fly to Mars. And in the arid and attenuated atmosphere there, I would erect a crystal palace for her. And there we might make a Zen rock garden with a garden gnome to remind us of home. And in the shadow of the Olympus Mons, we might match wits and play chess.
At long last there would be life on Mars and intelligence too.
So if you are a female robot who plays chess, or if you are a female who plays chess and makes love like a robot, drop me a line.
Perhaps we might match wits.
And perhaps later in the evening, we might match parts.
Originally written in 2007.
MARTIAN DEATH RAY 