March 01, 2005

Cylon Intruder Alert

Lest you think Cylons have to diguise themselves as slinky, lingerie-clad blondes with glowing spines in order to get our attention, allow me to disabuse you of that notion.

I drove out to the Llama Llost Weekend with my semi-cousin Cam. He had recently had a GPS system installed in his car for navigating around DelMarVa in connection with his home-bound patient hospice practice, and was positively smitten with the thing. He calls her Bimini, and the entire way there and back kept relaying to me the information she was spewing out - ETA, miles to go, driving directions, etc.

It all sounds wonderful. But I know the truth: Bimini is a Cylon.

How do I know this? Because I've been travelling the roads between Dee Cee and Lexington, VA for many years. I know just about everything worth knowing about things like the relevant merits of going down Rte. 29 and cutting over at Charlottesville versus taking I-66 all the way out to I-81 at Front Royal. I know the best times to consider coming up Rte. 28 from Remington to Manassas in order to miss the bottleneck at Gainesville. Of course, I can easily navigate around the streets of Metro-Lex itself. And I know the best ways to break the gravitational pull of the Beltway and get out of the Dee Cee area.

Yet for the entire trip, Bimini kept spewing out suggestions that were not quite optimal. Nothing obviously wrong, you understand, just....a bit off. It struck me that she was doing this as a way to test her influence, to see how far into her clutches Cam had fallen.

I noticed this as soon as we left my driveway. Then, when we stopped at a gas station, my growing suspicions suddenly were confirmed: While Cam was busy getting some cokes, Bimini, flat-panel liquid crystal display and all, glared at me. It was a swift, venomous look. I'll never forget it.

As I say, Cam is totally in love with this piece of technology gone bad. It was everything I could do to keep him from taking her every suggestion. At every new one, I had to argue strenuously, promising that I knew better because I'd done the trip so many times. Finally, reluctantly, he would agree. The worst instance was on the way back as we cut over the Blue Ridge via Rockfish Gap on I-64. Bimini did not approve of this and kept offering suggestions for how best to get back on I-81 and continue up the Shenendoah Valley.

I am convinced that she will go on working her seductive influence until Cam is totally beholden to her. Then, at the appointed time, she is going to vector him straight into an ambush.

It makes me wonder how many of her bretheren are out there......

Posted by Robert at March 1, 2005 01:45 PM

By your command...

Posted by: Eric at March 1, 2005 02:01 PM

Hilarious. My dad has become a GPS guru and tests various new gadgets that are sent to him for evaluation on a regular basis. He doesn't make the drive to church without some electronic thing beeping or talking at him.

When we were in New Jersey for the birth of my nephew last summer, Dad insisted that we use the latest GPS that he was evaluating rather than take the directions that we had taken the last time my sister had a baby. She was at the same hospital, it was an easy drive.

Not so this time, we ended up in the armpit of Newark and ended up arriving at the hospital about 20-30 minutes later than if we had taken the "normal" way. The only good thing was that we arrived just as my bro-in-law came out to announce that the scheduled c-section went fine and we had a new baby boy.

Posted by: jen at March 1, 2005 03:26 PM

I'm telling ya, there's a whole strike force detailed off to infiltrate and crack our defenses by seducing guys like your dad and my friend with beeps, pings and futuristic-looking readouts and turning them into helpless techno-slaves.

Posted by: Robert the LB at March 1, 2005 03:57 PM

I too was enthralled by Bimini--her sleek contours and ever-ready with an answer to any conceivable question. However, she did everything except state the obvious--the drugstores you were looking for are on the main drags going in and out of Metro-Lex. It was her flaw and it is apparent now that she is electronic an Trojan Horse.

Posted by: LMC at March 1, 2005 04:49 PM

I'm afraid that Cam - and others like him - may reach that event horizon where they no longer even care if she is telling the truth or not, so long as she just....keeps.....talking......

Posted by: Robert the LB at March 1, 2005 04:55 PM

All they need to do is equip Bimini with a soft Australian female accent and the Colonies are toast. I had a depo a few years ago in the North Tower of the World Trade Center with a Merrill Lynch VP, held at the offices of his babe Australian lawyer. I could have listened to her talk all day long . . .

Posted by: LMC at March 1, 2005 06:25 PM

A Strine accent I could rersist, with help. If they make her sound Irish, I'm toast.

Posted by: Brian B at March 1, 2005 08:46 PM

I once made love to a waffle iron. Ok, maybe it was more "on" than "to," but still.

Posted by: Bill from INDC at March 2, 2005 12:30 AM

A Soft Southern accent is a siren's call...

Posted by: KMR at April 11, 2005 08:33 PM
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