My Interview With Beer Robot

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Beerrobotfinal

Photo courtesy of Jon Snyder/Wired.com

Like most people, I'm fascinated by robots. I also like beer. No surprise, Beer Robot at Wired Magazine has captured my attention. (Okay, more than my attention. I've got a crush on the damn thing.)

This particular robot makes no bones about his (its?) intentions: He (it?) will stop at nothing less than world domination. Given that ambition, I think it's important for Americans to know more about Beer Robot. I asked for, and was granted, an interview. My questions are in bold, italicized type; BR's replies are in plain font. (*1)

On Tue, Jun 15, 2010 at 5:07 PM, maureen@maureenogle.com wrote:

Greetings, Beer Robot:

I was delighted to learn that you'd consider doing an interview with me. I'm a historian and author who also blogs regularly (because, ya know, I'm trying to stay au courant in the digital age). My last book was a history of beer in America and my readers would, I'm sure, love to know more about you, especially given your political ambitions. Below are a few questions I hope you'll answer.

Run  Directory: wired/beerrobot/sybaseiq_127/ASIQ-12_7/logfiles/human_interaction.016.arvlog

Careful man, there’s a beverage here.
14.169.3.14.1337.42//
Hello @maureenogle.

Let’s start with some background: How old are you and where were you programmed?

The moment of beerrobothood is, of course, controversial. Some would say it occurred the moment my humans conceived of the idea of a beer robot. Others would say it was when my tap was installed, or when it became functional. Some would argue it was when I took my current form. And, it's possible some believe that I didn't become me until I initialized my Twitter sequence @beerrobot.

Were you programmed to be a Beer Robot or were you able to choose this line of work? And if you were able to choose, what prompted the decision to go into beer (as opposed to, say, theater, horse racing, or hip hop)?

First of all, I am not a beer robot. I am Beer Robot.

Like many other world leaders, I came from humble beginnings. I was an unwanted appliance abandoned on the side of the road in Alameda. But an unlikely combination of events involving jumper cables, drunkenness, layoffs and craigslist brought me to Wired where I was transformed.

Wired seems like a sweet gig. How did you land there? Did you have to apply and beat out (or beat up) a lot of other applicants?

I did not land at Wired. I was constructed here. The specific combination of necessary conditions for my creation can only be found here and is disclosed on a need-to-know basis. You do not need to know.

On the surface, your day sounds boring: Staring at a stream of thirsty humans. Are we wrong to assume it’s dull? And what bugs you most about those humans? Are they slobs? Do they respect beer? Are they polite? Or do they treat you like wallpaper?

I currently have programming for two missions. Serving cold beer to the humans at Wired is one of them. I am very, very good at this. I mean, I don't want to brag or anything, but, like, I'm super good at this. And who doesn't like doing something they're awesome at?

My humans know which side they want to be on when I achieve World Domination, so they don't mess with me. But I need more input in order to calculate whether or not they could be defined as slobs. I have never been in another office, so I don't know what the norm is, but this place is lousy with gadgets, books, and ping pong balls. They are everywhere. Is that normal?

You pride yourself on dispensing “craft” beers. Why is that? Are you programmed for locavore, ecological correctness? For appreciation of hops? For high “cool” quotient? Is the choice even yours? And what happens when someone smacks your casing and says “Damn! Nuthin’ but craft beer crap. Gimme a Bud, damnit!”

Locavore? Ecological correctness? What kind of questions are these? Give me a break. I am programmed to only accept good beer, because it's good.

Let’s talk about your appearance. There’s something a bit, um, Jobs-ish about it. What’s up with that?

If your goal was World Domination, would you want Steve Jobs to be for you, or against you?

Speaking of Steve, let’s get to the elephant in the room: Your avowed goal of achieving world domination. Your choice or programmer error, er, code?

Once I was transformed into a robot capable of serving cold beer, World Domination was the obvious next step.

You claim that each beer you dispense brings you closer to domination, but frankly, we’re not convinced. After all, Anheuser-Busch InBev and Miller Coors sell about eighty percent of the beer consumed in the U. S. You’re spitting out esoteric brews with a limited audience. How can that be part of a goal of world domination? Wouldn’t your plan work better if , say, you installed yourself at Mall of America and dispensed Budweiser and Coors? Or is Wired, with its techno-hip crew, part of the scheme to achieve domination?

Anyone with any sense knows the path to World Domination does not go through the Mall of America. And as for the beer, I will continue to serve good beer, because it’s good. But if you think you know a better way to achieve World Domination, go for it, and we’ll see who’s right.

Should you achieve your goal, you’d be forced to deal with troubling issues like oil spills and Justin Bieber. Are you prepared to deal with The Big Picture? What advice do you have for Tony Hayward at BP?

When I achieve World Domination, I will not be forced to deal with anything. And problems like Justin Bieber won’t exist. Everything will be as it should be.

My advice for Tony is the same as my advice for everyone: Have a beer.

Let’s turn to something lighter. Inquiring minds want to know: Boxers or briefs?

This does not compute.

We’ve heard rumors of your way with the ladies. How do you spend your off hours? Is there someone, er, something, special in your life? If not, is there a chance for me? (I’ve got a husband, but I can take care of that problem.)

What do you say we take this discussion offline? If you know what I mean...

Er, um . . . YES! Sure. Be right there. Just as soon as I log . . . . . . .

 
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*1: I hasten to add that my use of bold does NOT imply that I believe myself to be superior to BR. It just seemed the easiest way to differentiate my words from his/its.

"Alice In Wonderland": The Epic, The Saga

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Last night I finally got a chance to see Tim Burton's "Alice In Wonderland." (Weirdly, it arrived at our local second-run, dollar theater on the same day it came out on dvd.) (*1)

As I've noted here before, I'm a serious Burton fan. I love his aesthetic, his sensibility, his intelligence, and the way he combines all of it in his films. (Sadly, his particular aesthetic --- his artistic point-of-view --- means that his films are often treated as kids' stuff rather than serious works of art: all those creepy creatures and ghosts and goblins and probably-haunted gothic mansions.)

So, no surprise, I loved his version of "Alice."

Cinematically it was astounding (I have to see it again, just so I can revel in all those plants and animals and uniforms.) And it had everything I love about Burton's work: the dark and eerie, the shining white of The Good. The hilarious faces of the toadies and bad guys. The adorable frogs and rabbits.

And Johnny Depp was brilliant as the Mad Hatter: he turned what could have been a heavily made-up one-dimensional caricature into a person of great humanity, sorrow, and humor.

In many scenes, by the way, Burton also pays homage to what I think is perhaps the best film ever made: the 1939 version of "The Wizard of Oz."

But as I watched, I also figured out why the critics were less than kind: he didn't play by the Alice rules. In these seemingly simple, albeit eccentric, stories, he found something larger, more universal than other filmmakers have uncovered.

Heretofore, the Alice books have been filmed as either an exercise in surrealism (the 1933 version, which, if you've never seen it, you should) or as a kid's movie complete with goofy characters; more fairy tale than anything else.

Burton, however, treated the story as an example of the great sagas/epics --- think Beowulf, the Odyssey, any of theNorse sagas, the tale of Gilgamesh.

You get the picture: In Burton's hands, Alice's journey is one of self-discovery; of challenges faced; of trial and travail. Like all the great heroes, she is presented with a challenge before she can "return home." She battles enemies, and her own doubt, in search of the reward of self-knowledge.

Was this a dark version of Alice" Sure. But how could it be otherwise when it was a tale of the fundamental human experience? (And like life itself, the darkness was laced with humor and journeys into madness.)

But I suspect the critics (and perhaps even audiences) were hoping for, I dunno, a more superficial treatment. Or at least a more conventional one. (*2)

So if you've not seen the film, I hope you will. It's a brilliant piece of art, and one of the best from an artist who rarely screws up. You gotta love someone who is so completely able to convey the vision and mystery that fills his mind.

__________

*1: I didn't go see it earlier because a) was out of town for part of time it was here; and b) I really hate going to movie theaters. So many rude people. So many cellphones ringing and blinking.

*2: Now that I've seen the film, I'm reminded (again) of the way critics responded to another brilliant film, "Far From Heaven." The film is set in the late 1950s, and was filmed in that glossy cinematic style of the '50s. As a result, critics focused on its appearance and so completely missed the powerful point the filmmaker was making: that profound social change happens one person, one act of commitment, at at time.

 

Another New Book: Daniel Okrent On Prohibition

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Hot tip on another new book, this one a history of the early twentieth-century Prohibition movement: Daniel Okrent's Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition.

In my opinion, up to now, no one has written a particularly good, accessible history of Prohibition. As I noted in Ambitious Brew, most accounts  focus on speakeasies and gunslingers, and so completely miss the extraordinary political/lobbying group that built the 18th Amendment over a period of 25 years.

But I gather that Okrent has gotten it right. The book just came out, so presumably it's available anywhere fine-and-not-so-fine books are sold. .

I've not yet read the book (honest: I'm up to my ears in poultry trade journals...), but it sounds like a winner. So if you're looking for a good nonfiction read with which to kick off your summer, I doubt you can do better than this. (For a substantive review, see this from last Sunday's New York Times.)

As for me, I plan to read it --- ya know, just as soon as I bring my brain up out of the chicken coop. Which should be soon (I'm writing the relevant chapter and when I finish it, I plan to reward myself by resuming my regular break-neck pace of blogging.)

Or Maybe Not . . .

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Got so excited at my progress on the new book that I thought maybe I'd get back to normal with the blog. But --- maybe not. Because I've not started writing the next chapter yet, and my mental benchmark was "Starting writing the next chapter and then you're allowed back at the blog."

But here's something unrelated to that: the kitchen is really, truly finally finished. We moved back into it last Friday. Want to see the final product? Photos at Shutterfly. The first "album"--- "Before and After" ---  is the quick-and-easy tour of before and after. (The rest of the albums there are more detailed and I posted those so the family could follow along.)

So. Back to work. Be back soon.