Desservo #1: I Wish I Was a Robot Sometimes

You know, as much as human existence is praised (by humans themselves, big surprise), seeing Spielberg's new film "A.I." made me question the value of being human. It has its perks...but what is the big deal? That little bastard on "A.I." cried up and down the continent that he wanted to be a "real boy." Well, guess what, neighbor? I was born a real boy....I grew up a real boy, and became a real man (some would disagree with me here). And let me tell you, it's a REAL drag. Let me be the first to say that I would love to be a fake boy. Let me tell you why.
First, no human emotions. When you're growing up, these things are a gift. After that, they are a curse. Sure, your first crush is great, but the older you get, the more serious it becomes. It's not cute anymore. It becomes an exhausting guessing game in which you're never sure of yourself or anyone around you. And don't think that if you're lucky enough to get into a nice little relationship with the person of your choice that the "games" will end. No, no, on the contrary. They're only BEGINNING.

There are many other facets of human emotion which make life difficult. For everyone, jealusy and hate will come to mind. Yes, to feel those are no fun, we all know it. But the one human emotion that I have really grown to despise is fear. Jesus, I'm a grown human being now....and going into the adult world, this feeling does not help my endeavors one bit. How I wish I could just eject it from my personality.

And another one is longing. This is related to desperation. It is also related to sentimentality. And it hurts. Bad. Sure, so does getting your nipples hooked up to a car battery, but that pain doesn't take long to go away once the Die-Hard warranty-guaranteed power cell runs out of juice.
Secondly, eternal life. "Life," my friends, is scary. When we humans age, we age badly. We become saggy, ugly shit-and-piss factories (running on highly inconcistent and unproffesional production levels, I might add) -- merely mockeries of our former, youthful selves. When we get old we can't move, we drive like utter morons, kids constantly make fun of us and we will all eventually reach a point when we wake up and think "Damn! I woke up again." I don't know about you, dear reader, but I think life kind of loses its vitality when you are rocking back and forth in a fart-ridden Lazy-Boy recliner praying for "the Lord" to just come and take you -- and then taking it out on the rest of the world by driving on the freeways like a damned coma patient when he doesn't.

Old people act very nice, but don't let the bastards decieve you. They smile, give you lame hard candies and regale you with stories of the old days when they had to walk through five miles of molten volcanic rivers bare-foot just to get to school. Yes, they are very charming, but don't let those heartwarming stories of good old Mr. Anderson's revolutionary war battles sway you; old people have an agenda.

They're OLD, and they aren't HAPPY. Life went by too fast, and now they pray for death. I have reason to believe that they are creating life-machines to suck the life and vitality out of we young innocents while we're not looking -- but that's a story for another day. To make a long editorial short, I want to be an android because growing old scares me.
Third, humans are meek. Living near and inhabiting Rancho San Diego, and being an individual person, I (and my cohorts) often find myself the target of neanderthals in lifted Ford Rangers blasting Limp Bizkit and treating women like objects. Seriousley, I have had a few run-ins with this type in my day. They were the football-sucking assholes in middle school who grew into the fist-throwing, truck-driving, insecure goons of High School. Stupidity and insecurity is a very dangerous combination, especially for people like us. So, the point is....don't all androids in our favorite movies come equipped with super-human strength and agility? Well, if I was an android, I would never have to avoid physical confrontations with my old enemies from the dark days of Spring Valley Middle School. I always try to avoid fights and talk out my problems, but it would be something else to see the scum of the Rancho San Diego riff-raff crumble in shame and embarrasment under that Arnold Schwarzenegger/Terminator bone crusher grip we all love. If I was an android, I would use my powers to fight for the underdog, and to defeat the scum of the earth.

But in all honesty, folks, it's not bad being human. Human emotion is like a volatile chemical -- under the right treatment, you can use it for many great things, however, it is prone to blow up in your face from time to time. No, we can never be androids (at least not yet), but we can come close to defeating our mortal setbacks by learning how to deal with our emotions (ahem, Morrisey fans, you should take note). So, in my first writing excursion for Vocephus, I hope I've given you something to think about -- other than your cousin with the big boobs.

Jesus Loves You.