Helpless Female Says “You Can’t Get Inside My Head and I Can’t Get Out”

Many futuristic films have robots where someone sits in a console in the head or chest of this human-noid machine and operates it.  It always looks like a combination of thrill ride and extreme frustration.  The robot is huge and strong, but movements are stiff and frequently  unwieldly.  I know where the idea originated.  Someone felt like that inside their own head.  I can’t be the first one.

Okay, so I’m not huge and strong, but I’m here inside the upper level console looking out through the portholes of my personbot.  Some of my apparatus responds directly to my directions, while other systems seem to have been pre-programmed, thank God!  Because I have enough to do running the parts that are somewhat under my control.  The strange thing is that I can’t get out and try a new model or trade with anyone for a while.

Sometimes I can transmit my thoughts over an external loud speaker, but the translation from internal-thought-code to vocal-code seems to be a little tricky.  It takes a fair amount of effort to process it so that it is coherent and meaningful to other personbots.  Also, I can’t always count on their translation programs to interface with my output.

It’s not that I want out, per se, but just the realization that I am so firmly grafted into this unit is thought provoking, which is another phenomena in and of itself.  Swirling thoughts inside my console, displayed in three dimensional words and pictures or just nebulous, potentially distracting me from correct attention to what is going on outside my portholes.  Or sometimes trying to manage the data that has been collected from the external world.  I’m going to take a minute right now to check the directives, review my functions, and confirm proper action in the field.

And don’t forget, I may be watching you through my portholes –