The Encyclopedia Galactica defines a robot as a mechanical apparatus designed to do the work of a man. The marketing division of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation defines a robot as "Your Plastic Pal Who's Fun to Be With."
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy defines the marketing division of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who'll be the first against the wall when the revolution comes," with a footnote to the effect that the editors would welcome applications from anyone interested in taking over the post of robotics correspondent.
Curiously enough, an edition of the Encyclopedia Galactica that had the good fortune to fall through a time warp from a thousand years in the future defined the marketing division of Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who were the first against the wall when the revolution came."
I don't think I want to know the future. An encyclopedia from even 100 years in the future would be a dangerous thing to possess. Sure, I'd be tempted to read entries about economics and technology. Maybe check out the entry on winning Lotto numbers for the late 2010s or early 2020s. Check out how the Trump presidency ended ("a bunch of mindless jerks who were the first against the wall when the revolution came"). However, living in the future would negate the present, I think.
Last night, I went to a scholarship presentation for my daughter at the local Elks Club. She took first place at the local level, so she was treated to a shrimp dinner, endured endless pictures, and collected an envelope containing a nice check for her future plans. It was a surreal moment because, when I was her age, I spent a lot of time at this Elks Club. My father was deeply involved in the club's activities. Served as its Exalted Ruler (yes, that was the title) for a year. His picture is still on the wall. I worked spaghetti dinners and taco nights there when I was a teenager. As an undergraduate, I was employed as a bus boy for the Friday fish fry. My wife and I had our wedding reception there. So, stepping through the doors of the club was like walking through a time portal into the past.
I took a picture of my daughter standing beneath my father's photo on the wall. She was really excited to find it. The photo is over 30 years old. Looking at all those photos on the wall, I recognized quite a few of the faces. Men who were my father's closest friends. A lot of them are no longer alive. My father was probably one of the final members of his group of pals to pass away. The last few years of his life, he spent time reading the obituaries, seeing them disappear one-by-one.
That's why I don't think I would want to know the future. Yes, I'd like to know that my kids will have long, fulfilling lives filled with love and happiness and abundance. I'd like to know that my wife and I celebrate our golden anniversary in Hawaii, lounging on a white sand beach. Other than that, I'm happy taking it one day at a time. Savoring the gifts every 24 hour brings. Because everything changes so quickly. Just ask the pictures on the wall at the Elks Club.
Saint Marty wants to work on slowing down the present, not gazin into the future.
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