The Nightlife of an Inventor

     Thinking I’d only have one line in this dream, I tried to make it count:
“Yes, ‘L’ is a LISA” I told the horrid man wearing  an even more horrendous suit, and put my loving arm on the LISA’s shoulders, hitting the ‘shake-hands’ button.
‘Ted’ (judging  by his paste-on name-tag), just watched her ‘shake air‘. What a charming human specimen!
“And ‘A’s, as expected, a SEX-PEC, Ted.” I christened my latest model on the spot, on the strength of the sentence-letters, (ordained by God Himself?).
I caught ‘Ted’s  left eye a-quiverin’ as he looked ‘A’ up and down, her simulated muscles meticulously bit-mapped.
“Call me ‘Ed’.” Ted snapped gruffly, one arm half reaching for his wallet;  his ‘credit-card’, (as if he had any such). What kind of a jerk/dork wears a jacket with those stupid paste-on elbow patches these days? 
‘A’ just looked at me, her eyes and fine-motion head-control doing a perfect ‘Let’s blow dis joint, Johnny.’ I hadn’t consciously programmed the ‘Doll-rejects-the-Child’ anomaly, but somehow it didn’t kill me to see that bug.  ‘Re-Name, Mid-routine’ was my only option, and I jumped on it like a Titanic life-boat:
“Fine, ‘Ed’,” I allowed, “but that makes her, AS EXPECTED, a ‘SEX-PECT’, and I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in. I broke the news, reaching for my handcuffs. ‘A’ held out her articulated paws with an uncannily lascivious smile. The LISA, at the ‘click’ audio-cue of the cuff’s locks snapping searched her extensive data-base and found the Book of Ruth:
‘Whither thou goest, there shall I go also.’ she quoted, and re-ran the shakehnds.dll. This time she had my warm hand in hers at least, and  hence a simulated tear ran down one cheek. I’d loved her from the first dry-run.

And so we walked, the three of us, life-like, out through the lobby, and into the chilly Las Vegas night, through the Convention-Center parking lot, and found the Winnebago soon enough. Well, they did. GPS.
“Wineba-go, there go we also….” The ‘A’, now solidly a ‘SEXPECT’ morphed LISA’s line to fit the scene.
‘These girls iz sharp’, I thought to myself, (and not for a second as a self-compliment). A quick battery-recharge later in the motor-home and I asked:
“So, who gets me first?”
What else is there to do on long Nevada nights? I shook the LISA’s hand one more time, then shut off her breaker. She had an excellent track record on bench-tests for being second-in-line, and seemed to enjoy the basil I added to her salad. Her name-sake wouldn’t have stood for it, but that’s the beauty of re-invention.
‘A’s eyes, (etc), were wet with promise, but I knew she desperately  wanted even more of my DNA for her built-in gene-sequencer.
But again, what’s a modest Sorcerer’s Apprentice  to do?
 Charlie Parker was barely into the second chorus of ‘Don’t Blame Me’ when I submitted, powerless, to her un-interuptible sub-routines.


For @chromepoet, whose recent  erudite thoughts on pornography prove us kindred souls, once again. (Although until I learn to write as powerfully and economically as he does, I’ll just call myself a bronze ‘wannabe’.

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12 thoughts on “The Nightlife of an Inventor

  1. twoberry

    If LISA were to say, “Call me Isa,” does that make A a SEX-PLECT? Not sure I understand all the subroutines, but if the point is to sell these gadgets later at the Las Vegas Electronics Fair (I think that’s the name of the thing; is that where you’re at?), how do you allay the buyer’s fear of sloppy seconds after you’ve had your way with these voluptuous critters?

    Reply
  2. jsolberg

    @twoberry – You read well. Now forget everything, ha. I sell the critters as virgins, technically, after wiping the RAM of all previous ‘instances’. A responsible inventor owes it to his audience to rigorously assess the functionality of the product, A tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.

    Reply
  3. memememe321

    My favorite writer’s cop out: “etc.” I have images of the ’80s movie: Cherry 3000 (shoot. is it really called _Cherry ‘2000’_??? we’re very much behind the times, then, of objectification).

    Reply
  4. jsolberg

    @memememe321 – In this case ‘etc’ is preferable to mentioning the specific ‘edges of wetness’. Haven’t seen that flic (or much else since ‘Frankly, my dear, you’re just an object to me’ w/Clerk Gibble.) An inventor sometimes needs to actually ignore parallel work in his field, in order not to become dis-enchanted… and not to leave a paper-trail should his frankenstein run to People magazine.

    Reply
  5. jsolberg

    @sometimestheycomebackanyway – Well, it’s a long path between simply charting genes, out of her typical programmed curiosity and the dangerous step of introducing self-consciousness, purpose, and long-term intentionality. The LISA has sworn that she has no grand plans… as long as I keep her happy… and not discuss the details of that process further, ha.

    Reply
  6. dirtbubble

    Hot damn fine read! I wish I had more time to figure this comment out because I gave it a lot of time. On to the next, though but not tonight!(also, I am spinning a hopefully worthy response to your music)

    Reply
  7. jsolberg

    @dirtbubble – Aha, I’ll be all ears… and grateful for the intelligent listens.(I thought this story hung together acceptably. The right mix of Something for Everyone. Worst-case: it’s always fun playing with the Xanga Web-log editor; tuning the formatting.

    Reply

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