Anthony Giddens called it the "reflexive project of the self". The Tyrell Corporation might have called it auto-replication. And, who knows, other folks might just call it learning where you've been, and and where you're going.
Whatever you call it, Bob is captured here spending a little time looking at his old profile pics, reading some old BHB blog posts, & poring over old Facebook status updates:
Come to think of it, don't many of us do something like this on pretty much an everyday basis?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Bob...is back.
It's been a long time since this blog has seen a real post. And even longer since Bob has graced its pages, bringing smiles bigger than the one he always wore. Yet, yesterday, after his human companion of yore spent the afternoon volunteering at the gallery of a San Francisco art and design nonprofit, a familiar wind was felt blowing from the north, and thus began a bicycle journey up to the Marina, chronicled on Twitter, and now augmented with photos both old and new.
The indented passages are tweets, sent via mobile phone as the tale unfolded the day before this post was written, over a span of about two hours. Enjoy...
Those familiar with Bob's story might remember a series of tweets and photos that were later uploaded to Facebook, including this one, where Bob pokes fun of Stanfurd fans on a brief stop before his ascent...
True enough, he could often be found in nature--in the oddest of places--thinking of nothing, it would seem, except the dandelion in his robo-clasper...
And of course there was the occasional overindulgence. But then again, wouldn't you swim in a glass of wine while listening to live poetry readings, if you had the chance?
#iBod tweets, you may be interested to note, have since been collected over here.
Yes, quite partial. Here, playing optical tricks with his good friend Ray in a previously unpublished photo (which has, mysteriously enough, 'decayed' to sepia on my hard drive--humm!!):
Indeed, Bob was quite a risk-taker. Here, in another unreleased photo, he plays chicken with an Amtrak train just outside of Davis, CA:
And then, yes, that bridge...
Here, present and past came together on the Golden Gate, where Human Companion last saw Bob hanging out, doing his thing...
And, truly, the story *should* have ended there, by all counts. Some might have even preferred that. Dissertation advisers come to mind. But...
Somehow--I don't know how--while Human Companion paused on his return to civilization, the mundane flows of everyday life, taking a minute on the sand and a last breath of the salty air, a familiar form came into view. And, in a flash, a rescue operation was underway, involving the determined efforts of two friendly girls playing on the beach, much splashing of water, a pair of soaked blue jeans, and a sandy camera.
But, in the end, a rebirth of sorts had taken place--nothing sort of a miracle, if you believe in such things...
The indented passages are tweets, sent via mobile phone as the tale unfolded the day before this post was written, over a span of about two hours. Enjoy...
As the sparkling blue bay waters and blazing orange of that fatal bridge move into view, the sound of an electronic cry is heard. #bhb2
The sound of a cry from a robotic hero, born a year ago on a Twitter-chronicled bicycle journey into the Santa Cruz mountains. #bhb2
Those familiar with Bob's story might remember a series of tweets and photos that were later uploaded to Facebook, including this one, where Bob pokes fun of Stanfurd fans on a brief stop before his ascent...
Raised with robosiblings Betina & Bing, and later meeting estranged half-brother Bill, Brushhead Bob the Biking Bot led a charmed life #bhb2
True enough, he could often be found in nature--in the oddest of places--thinking of nothing, it would seem, except the dandelion in his robo-clasper...
And of course there was the occasional overindulgence. But then again, wouldn't you swim in a glass of wine while listening to live poetry readings, if you had the chance?
Yes, Bob graced many a Facebook photo album, got his own blog, and even in his absence, inspired the hashtags #iBod and #amriding. #bhb2
#iBod tweets, you may be interested to note, have since been collected over here.
Yet, truth be told, it was not his many electronic prostheses, but human love that kept him seeking his next adventure. #bhb2
And much love he found. @usreeb @viola_lasmana @eastsidecalipas @bhsg @jenn_lowe @jhammons such a partial list... #bhb2
Yes, quite partial. Here, playing optical tricks with his good friend Ray in a previously unpublished photo (which has, mysteriously enough, 'decayed' to sepia on my hard drive--humm!!):
Yet nobody's both perfect and lucky. Perhaps Bob's flaw was to go too far for a smile...or was he just overcharged that day? #bhb2
Indeed, Bob was quite a risk-taker. Here, in another unreleased photo, he plays chicken with an Amtrak train just outside of Davis, CA:
And then, yes, that bridge...
Have you ever perched on the edge of that golden gate, felt the fog wrap you up, wondered if that wind might just carry you away? #bhb2
Here, present and past came together on the Golden Gate, where Human Companion last saw Bob hanging out, doing his thing...
Well, some say Bob was lost that day. Others prefer euphemisms and clever language, and say he "went adrift". Either way, he was gone. #bhb2
And, truly, the story *should* have ended there, by all counts. Some might have even preferred that. Dissertation advisers come to mind. But...
Have you ever had something, someone, find you when you were least expecting it, and take your breath away? Repeatedly? #bhb2
You know, there's this thing about humanized traveling robots, kind of like the waves that keep sweeping up to the shore... #bhb2
Somehow--I don't know how--while Human Companion paused on his return to civilization, the mundane flows of everyday life, taking a minute on the sand and a last breath of the salty air, a familiar form came into view. And, in a flash, a rescue operation was underway, involving the determined efforts of two friendly girls playing on the beach, much splashing of water, a pair of soaked blue jeans, and a sandy camera.
But, in the end, a rebirth of sorts had taken place--nothing sort of a miracle, if you believe in such things...
Bob...is back. #bhb2
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)