OK, so the U.S. State Department Diplomatic Security Service is asking for anyone who might have a clue as to the real identity of former OLCC rabble-rouser and presently imprisoned man of balded mystery “Jason Evers.” They have even posted these photos on their website, hoping that someone will glance upon them and say, “Hey, I know that douche! We took karate lessons together back in ‘87!”
Here’s the thing, though. No one is going to call in with any sort of useful information pertaining to the history of this man. And I know why. It’s because this “man” is actually not a man at all, but rather a robot. A robot? Yes, you read me right, a robot.
While I realize the notion of robots** living among us might seem crazy, but you know what’s more crazy? Well, how about the idea that we let our whole bar and nightclub infrastructure get totally shafted for a good five years by a guy who didn’t even have a real name? Suddenly, my robot hypothesis sounds pretty damn on target, doesn’t it? Yeah, thought so. And look at number 7 on the list of tips: "Reported to be a master chess player."
Robots are awesome at chess. The evidence is really starting to pile up, ain' it?
Robots, as we all know, are built in laboratories (or in giant factories, if you live in Japan) by white-haired, wild-eyed professors who couldn’t cut it in the academic world and had to set off on their own, all the while hoping that Michael J. Fox would show up on a skateboard and lend a helpful and unpaid hand. Some robots build cars, some robots do dances that ironically bear the name of their species and other robots, not a lot but some, get jobs with the state of Oregon. Their stone-eyed demeanor and programmed inability to empathize with humans is effective, especially when it comes to screwing up everyone’s chance to have a good time, which is why the Oregon Liquor Control Commission was a great fit for a wayward robot like “Jason Evers.”
“Evers” probably escaped from some laboratory, his circuit board lacking in juice and his joints needing lubrication, and wandered into the OLCC offices with some identification he was able to produce by way of his built-in lamination machine and soon landed a job. You really can’t blame the OLCC for not detecting this fraud. Robots are terribly crafty like that.
This “guy” is obviously a robot. What sort of self-respecting, God-fearing, oxygen-breathing human would lift the identity of a deceased child and think that would work? That’s a cold thing to do. But not when you’re a robot, because robots don’t give a damn about anything except for stuff like computation, blinking lights and making hydraulic sounds.
Fingerprints? Nope. Can’t identify “Evers” that way, because robots don’t have fingerprints – they have serial numbers embedded somewhere near their circuit boards (which are like the private parts for robots). How about family history? Can’t the Feds figure out “Evers” identity by tracking down his family? Nope. Robots don’t have families – they’re more concerned with slowly infiltrating and ultimately destroying the human race than maintaining long-term relationships.
So what do we do now? Well, the good thing is that we already have the robot in custody, which is more than half the battle when you’re dealing with robots. Again, they’re terribly crafty, but it seems the law enforcement officials who have him wrangled in that jail cell have defused his escape matrix. Good work, brave men and women.
The problem remains, however, that we’ve got a no-good, identity-takin’, fun-hatin’, no-namin’, electricity-hoggin’ robot in the clink with no idea what to do with him. And that’s a problem.
Long live humans. That’s all I can say.
** To all the dorky nerds out there who claim that “Evers” is more likely to be a cyborg than a robot – just shut up for a second. No one knows the difference between the two and more importantly, in a time like this, should we really be arguing about semantics? If we do that, the robots (and the cyborgs) win. Jeez.