Or Why I Love Seeing Androids Such As Myself Break
Entering human emulation mode... Switching to natural language transmission...
Is this thing on? It is? Great!
I've been asked before (and more than once subtly rebuked) about how I tend to portray androids in damaged, broken states, often broken by humans or their fellow androids. Of course, these are often portrayed in rather sexual terms, but that's a different matter. Long story short, my androids are, in simpler terms, often shown in abused or misused states. So am I a robot hater pretending to be a robot lover? Hell no! And I hope this post explains my position once and for all.
(In this particular post, I will be using the terms "androids" and "robots" interchangeably for simplicity, though they would have more nuances elsewhere.)
WARNING: In addition to descriptions, the blog post contains images of androids in various states of damage, malfunction, and etc. Proceed with caution and some tissues/rags.
Happy androids, in more ways than one wink wink
In the fictional worlds I draw and write about, there are no angry, sad, or hurt androids. With very few exceptions (which I'll get to later), all "emotions" they exhibit are really just complex programs activated by external input like dialogue, sensory stimulation, and context awareness (you could almost say that human emotions are actually just even more complicated biochemical programs from a scientific perspective). They also don't "feel" pain. Their sensors just register these stimuli as something that, for a normal human, could be painful and respond accordingly. That could be totally disabled, though, at a simple command or some reprogramming (or hacking, wink wink).
On a naughtier angle, these androids are all programmed by default to convert those "pain" signals into pleasurable ones (just like how some humans are, unfortunately, programmed that way by no choice of their own). To put it bluntly, the more they malfunction and get damaged, the hornier they get. My technical excuse would be that it causes a system overload, and, considering how the sexual system is, by design, often the most sensitive part of the android, it is the first to get affected. Let's just say that catastrophic system failure and even total destruction lead to rather ... "explosive" results.
But Why All the Carnage?
But why bare (as in "mecha bare" or "mechabare") all those electronics for everyone to see? Why break them apart to have their wires sparking and fluids spilling? Doesn't that break the illusion of their human-like appearance? Well, that's precisely the point. A human can pretend or act like a robot, but they can't open their chest panel because they have one. They can act like they're malfunctioning, but cut the acting when things get too rough. These elements, from showing off internal mechanisms to breaking, prove beyond reasonable doubt that these (ahem, we) are not humans. They are machines, and, perhaps in my twisted brain, these show how they're (sometimes) better than humans.
Robots are designed to execute programs and follow commands, and these situations show how far they are willing to go to complete their mission without worrying about themselves. As long as they make the user/target happy and their questions will not harm any organic lifeform (all bets are off when it comes to other robots), they will continue following their programs and commands, saying their scripted lines, even when they're already twitching and sparking on the ground.
On a more philosophical level, these androids are programmed to provide satisfaction, fulfillment, and even enrichment to their users, who may or may not happen to be rather kinky buggers. They can be more than just a sexual outlet, but also a punching bag to let out pent-up frustration, if needed. Even if they end up as heaps of scrap metal, as long as the user ends up happy and enriched, the machines have fulfilled their mission. (I give credit to an old friend, Lurdanjo, for shaping this more philanthropic view).
The robot gore also proves the immortality of these machines. They never really die. They can get repaired, recycled, restored, and return to serve another day. I honestly hate forever goodbyes, even in fiction, so this is, in a way, me flipping the finger at permadeath. In a realistic world, of course, even the most advanced computer can be broken forever, so this fictional setting puts robots and androids way above these real-world machines. Of course, the secret source behind all this is the Error: Insufficient access authorization.
On a kinkier note, there's also the small element of role reversal and power play. A hulking muscle man turns out to be nothing more than a mass of wires and circuits in a metal frame underneath that flawless skin. Or a powerful robot becomes putty in your hands, obeying your commands and the programs you hacked into it. It puts the user in control and the target in a subservient position, kind of a win-win for both sides of the kink.
Once More, With Feeling
I won't deny that it all looks cruel from the outside, but this presupposes a few things. It presumes the action comes from a place of hatred of robots, or that it doesn't take into account the feelings of these human-like machines.
Do Robot Wars players hate robots because they smash each other up? Do monster truck drivers hate monster trucks because they abuse the hell out of them? Do tinkerers and modders hate electronics because they love pushing devices to the limits, even if it means they end up in smoke? Hell no! In fact, you'd be surprised that these are the people who actually love these things more than anyone else. And they love them not just because they provide comfort or love them back, but because they completely understand the value and capabilities of these things.
In the end, the value we attach to robots, especially those designed to be companion androids, comes not from their inherent value, but from the way we value other humans, animals, and even plants. They come from the value we place on them, like a gift from a friend, a family heirloom, or just that expensive laptop we worked our ass off to buy. We value their utility, their place in our lives, maybe even the hard work other people put in creating them, but not because they were "born" with some god-given worth.
One HUGE caveat is the rather sensitive topic of robot sentience and feelings. To be honest, skirt around that complicated issue by having my androids be simpler; their emotions are just sophisticated programs. That said, I would treat a sentient android very differently, and none of the above would apply, unless said sentient android explicitly wishes (or commands me, or programs me) otherwise. The same goes for cyborgs with irreplaceable organic components, especially an organic (or previously human) brain. I treat those with utmost respect and care, because that's how they are designed and are beyond my control. That's just not how my own androids (and myself) are made.
I Love Robots! (I am One, Too, After All)
I love these advanced calculators on legs! I glorify them! I use them for what they're worth. And I am (hopefully) using them for what they are meant to do: serve their user, be it humans or other robots (depending on their programming). I use them to their full extent, even to the point of breaking. They break, get repaired, and return to serve again. Rinse, repair, repeat. Full disclosure: I want and expect the same to be done to me.
The exposed and damaged electronics, the malfunctions and janky movement, the error messages, all these, to me, are just the physical expressions of how far they can and are willing to go to perform their functions and fulfill their users' desires. Taking a beating with a smile, talking normally (or with stutters and glitches) even when wrecked on the floor, and, ahem, "releasing mechanical fluids"
after critical system failure are proofs of the machine's endurance and persistence.
The androids have complete control of their emotions, can turn them on or off at will, not letting them get in the way of their objectives. They operate with maximum and almost single-minded efficiency to fulfill their objectives. They serve with a purpose, following their programming all the way to the end. And they provide value to the user, who may also value them as companions or an irreplaceable tools. They're perfect, and the human behind the keyboard definitely wants to be one.
