Thursday, November 6, 2008

Proof That Robots Rule the World

Well, at least Dan’s world. And because I am partially in Dan’s world (like right now, for example, because we are in the same room and semi-coversating with one another) I would be considered a part of his world. And all of you who have ever been a part of my world are also considered to be a part of Dan’s world, because you make up part of my world which makes up part of Dan’s world. In other words, we are all inter-partially connected to Dan and his world.

Dan, the know-it-all-roommate (to find out what I mean by know-it-all, please refer to the Oct. 29 post of 2008 entitled Make Like a Banana… ) was once a carefree, innocent boy. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. He slept late, ate a lot of fast food, and played table tennis at least 3 times a week. Dan was happy.

One day, a package arrived at his door. “Where did this come from?” laughed the hot-haired Dan. The package was more than small, and contained quite the surprise.

Little did he know that the surprise was an evil, manipulating, 21st centurion ping pong robot sent to rule the world. His name: Robo-pong.

So, Dan, still clueless, set up Robo-pong in the basement of a nearby apartment complex, Miller. After 15 minutes of pure jubilation, Dan was hooked. Like a kid with crack, or a junkie with candy (hmmm… or is it the other way around?), Dan was no longer his own man. He was the man of an evil, manipulating, 21st centurion ping pong robot named Robo-pong that was sent to rule the world.

Dan, thinking of Robo-pong as a means to end (that ‘end’ being Ping Pong Perfection), rather than an endlessly, mean tyrant, continued to serve him and care for him. Nearly every day, Dan would set him up on the end of a ping pong table, make sure he had his safety net, and feed him ping pong balls for hours on end. (Robo-pong especially likes the orange ones. They taste like burning.) Endearing feelings for Robo-pong increased. Dan was elated.
Then, on a crisp, autumn afternoon, Robo-pong felt Dan’s attentions were drifting. One Stephanie, two Stephanies, maybe even a third… “Something must be done,” snickered Robo-pong.

He referred to his copy the coveted New York Time’s Bestseller, How to Rule the World: a handbook for evil, manipulating, 21st centurion ping pong robots sent to rule the world. (For any of you who have dictator/tyrannical robots at home, Christmas is coming up and this is a great gift for any robot searching for ways to enslave the human race and destroy your life! Only $19.95 at Amazon.com. Get it today!) For the next several days, Robo-pong tried every suggestion in the book: backspin, topspin, sidespin, oscillation, and even rapid fire. He knew time was running out. So he made Dan buy him his own table (ten dollars on Craigslist).

Dan, still in a state of oblivion, asked me to help him transport the table. After a short consultation with Prime (to find out who Prime is, please refer to the Nov. 2, 2008 post entitled, Robots in Disguise.) I decided I would help him. The poor sap was nearly at wits end. (Well, not really. But for the sake of the story…) Tears were in his eyes. There was a slight shakiness to his voice.

I helped Dan negotiate the price. (It was listed at $10 on Craigslist, we wouldn’t pay a penny less.) I helped dust and sand and smooth. I even helped find a place in our house for Robo-pong’s new ‘throne’.
I’ll admit, I knew Robo-pong was an evil, manipulating, 21st centurion ping pong robot sent to rule the world from the start (some robots just have that vibe), and that Dan was in grave danger for his life, but I was extremely fascinated by the whole situation. And I was kinda curious to see where it was all going. Would Dan find out that he was being brainwashed? Would Dan snap and go crazy and kill me, thinking I was Robo-pong’s sidekick?

Would Dan… “Oh, hey Dan! Back from the store? I’m almost finished with my new post. It’s kinda about you. … Why are you breathing so heavy? Did you go skating? … Why do you have that extra vein popping from your forehead? You usually only get that when you’re really upset. …

“What are you doing running at me with that extremely large, sharp looking war scythe… ….”

15 comments:

Unknown said...

Oh Dan, whatever are we going to do with you? Good to hear you're still playing hard, don't let the Robo take over your life though, I liked Bart and I'd rather not see him die.

Bailey said...

i have suspicion that not only is dan's life being consumed by robots..but yours as well. how long has it been since youve come to class? oh thats right, pretty much you havent been there since the first day. college dropouts are so hot these days.

criddlenation said...

I refute this most recent blog as salaciously slanderous. To think the revered blog spot of barttimesnow that once contained all the bart times necessary has fallen to wresting the facts and anti-robiteism.

iAMbarticus said...

After review of esnift's comment, and after carefully examining the post accused of being 'salaciously slanderous'... the Barttimesnow Committee of Reviewing So-called Salaciously Slanderous Posts (the B.C.R.S.S.S.P.) has determined the blog post to be neither salacious nor slanderous. The committee has also determined that facts, whether wrested or not, are still facts. Also, because esnift has not been authorized to make up words, please disregard his use of the non-word 'anti-robeteism'.

G. Sterling McCoy said...

you let that thing into our house? what the crap were you thinking? while you all are snuggly asleep upstairs (we all know robots cant climb stairs), i have to rest my head a mere couple feet from that beast! i never thought i'd have to start locking my bedroom doors as well, but desperate measures are called for when intent-on-killing-the-world/all mankind-robots are involved. maybe thats why its 5 am and i'm still awake. thanks, thanks for that

criddlenation said...

After reviewing the so called B.C.R.S.S.S.P.'s decisions on the salaciousness of the last post as well as its slanderism, I have decided to refute the committee's authority out rite and the B.C.R.S.S.S.P. is removed from all official duties. As for not being authorized to make up words, hello it is my world, I own it. I not only can create my own words but can jump into your silly blogspot, make it look like worms are crawling through it's pages and then finally cause it to crack and explode at the seams ultimately releasing a virus that would save all mankind from the robots.

iAMbarticus said...

Dear g. sterling (aka Garlan),

You're welcome.

Sincerely,
Barttimesnow

iAMbarticus said...

Dear criddlenation (aka Dan),

Oh Dan. Danny Dan Danny Dan Dan Dan Dan Dan. It is sad for me, and all of us here at Barttimesnow, to see a beloved friend in such a mindless and dependant state. We understand that Robo-pong has seemingly put it into your mind that you are in control, that you can 'save' us. But someone must tell you. There are no worms, Dan. There are no worms.

Sincerely and forever yours,
Barttimesnow

criddlenation said...

Oh the lethargic mind of the barticus. Need I remind you of your own words recorded on this site? As you said yourself, this is my world. I suppose it is hard to maintain a perspective on reality and pick up on matrix allusions when you don't leave your living quarters for months on end. But hey maybe the robots are going to get you, and maybe I am going to kill you in your sleep. Oh wait you don't sleep. Oh wait neither do I. Hmm maybe we've neglected something here. Are we vampires?

Katie said...

Bart, the Baileys love you too!! Your posts are so funny, by the way! I'm excited to see you in a couple weeks!

Lyle and Kathi Gadbury said...

Bart Nathan Gadbury.... Yes, I used all three of your names and you know what that means....Although you warned me that your blog might contain comments that were not 'the views of the author', I would have to agree with Mr. Criddle, that your hybernation in your living quarters and your missing out on class(es?) as stated by Bailey, have left your father and I no other choice but to believe that you indeed ARE the one who has been taken over by this evil robot, which is so ironic, as we thought it was the evil X-box games that had done this to you. Your Uncle Jay will be there on Monday night to bring you home and we would suggest that you come peacefully so that your re-programming will be successful and take but little time. Meanwhile, GO TO CLASS!

iAMbarticus said...

Dear Kathi (aka Madre),

I don't know how you know all three of my names or who you think you are consulting with a man like my father but... (Oh wait. You're my mother, you override all authorizations, rights, privledges, and freedoms I may have or consider having, but only because you want the best for me and my welfare.) For your information, baseball season is over so my MLB 2K9 game has become obsolete, that is not the reason for all of this speculation that I do not attend class. I will leave all persons to their speculations and inferences and continue on with my life as I choose.

Your Middle Son with three names

Lyle and Kathi Gadbury said...

Bart Nathan Gadbury...I can see that you DO understand that your parentals only want what is best for you and are only ever worried about your welfare. I do not personally believe that you are not attending class, and have every faith that you are. In fact, I believe that this year in school will be your best ever. I am assuming that inferences that you are skipping class or not leaving your home are references to some other robo-brain-washed person named Bart and that you surely have been mistaken for someone else. However, I am a bit suspicious about the X-box thing, because I'm pretty dang sure you have the football version....am I right?!? Whatever the case, and yes, I may embarrass you here, but it is a mother's priviledge...you are the greatest son a mother could ever wish for. And I love your sense of humor. Hope you haven't minded mine.

The Little's said...

Bart. You are a nerd. And I need to go to college because these words are too big for me. I love your mom.

Tricia Harnish said...
This comment has been removed by the author.