he has a secret, laying out a sales pitch
in his quiet synthesized voice. I guess
it’s how Google makes its money.
Whitey didn’t cost me anything, but he
sure annoys me sometimes.
Also, the constant searching can be
Last month, my ex-girlfriend was
over and we were getting along for
once. At a certain point, I reached
into my bedside drawer only to find
old Whitey standing there pawing
through my junk, taking inventory
while me and my girl were two feet
away in a delicate position. Trust me,
it was a real mood killer.
Google says it’s a feature.
In this one old ad, a guy even
Googles for his car keys. Bull. I’ve never
Googled my keys once. I’d never even
bother to ask Whitey. It’s way quicker
to just look around. I’ve got eyes and
ears, for God’s sake.
That’s why I bought a Near Cloud
It’s a smooth beige box that sits in
my closet. Full of processors. It’s got
routines to help Whitey walk and pick
[con TInued fRoM P. 136]
is my near Cloud
things up and make the bed and stuff.
The difference is my Near Cloud isn’t
talking to anybody out there. It’s not
reporting the location of every product
in my house to a multinational company that desperately wants me to buy,
Anyway, enough complaining.
I pry off Whitey’s back casing with
a nail file. Pull out his little SIM card.
Plug in the cord from my phone and
start running the jailbreak program.
Simple as that.
Whitey is gone. Sort of. Things are different on the Near Cloud.
If I wasn’t so lazy, I’d have saved
up and got a real Japanese-made local domestic robot years ago. Like the
Honda Pro-Asimo. Built-in personality.
Onboard computation. No Far Cloud.
No Near Cloud. No ads. No spying. And
those things are quality, made of real
metal and carbon fiber.
In the meantime, Whitey has gone
quiet. Operating on the Near Cloud, he
doesn’t hit me up with ads anymore.
Doesn’t do that slow ceremonial approach right before trying to sell me a
new kind of toothpaste.
Weird to say, but I kind of miss it.
This morning, I woke up and realized something. I’m getting pretty tired
of Jimmy Dean sausages. With the old
Whitey gone, I guess I’m starting to
wonder what other kinds of breakfast
sausage are out there.
Daniel h. Wilson is the New York Times bestselling
author of Robopocalypse. follow him on twitter at
danielwilsonpdx or visit his web site http://www.
© 2012 aCM 0001-0782/12/01 $10.00
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