Don’t Fear the Robot

Boy, oh boy, was last night’s presentation a doozy?!

Dr. Goldfarb, a thin fellow, prone to blinking a lot, told us about his biomechanical engineering/science work at Vanderbilt University.

[Disclosure: I had the choice of Georgia Tech or Vanderbilt for my four-year U.S. Navy ROTC scholarship in 1980, which means I should be biased toward Vanderbilt, but I’m also a football season ticket holder for the University of Tennessee, an in-state sports rival to Vanderbilt, so it probably balances out.]

I took notes during the presentation, recording some of the technical details of the work performed at the Center for Intelligent Mechatronics by Goldfarb and dozen or so assistants (which he showed in a slide at the end of his presentation — looked like 11 males and 1 female, assuming their faces reflected stereotypical gender roles and none of them are cross-gender dressers like Bradley Manning).

After I returned home and ate my wife’s peach-glazed pork roast with sweet potatoes, I took a short jog around the neighbourhood, processing what Goldfarb’s research meant for me, a person who could, at any time, suffer a debilitating injury should a drunk/texting driver jump the curb and hit me before I have time to react.

What’s it like to lose a fully-functioning limb?

What’s it worth to put in the time to learn to use an artificial limb, one assisted by microprocessor-centred circuitry?

Goldfarb’s approach to prosthetic devices is the least-invasive — no tapping into the brain or surgically implanting electrodes in nerve/muscle tissue.

There’s a whole industry devoted to this type of technology and history has shown us that prosthetics are valuable.

We can take the humorous approach and think of Captain Hook or a pegleg pirate.

Humour is a valuable asset when coming to grips with the change in one’s physical capabilities while adjusting to becoming a more apparent cybernetic organism, cyborg or borg.

Goldfarb’s three main approaches to solving the problems of limb/nervous system functionality include prosthetic hand (Vanderbilt multigrasp hand), prosthetic leg (transfemoral prosthesis) and powered lower limb exoskeleton.

The state-of-the-art is always years behind science fiction fantasies.

I would wish our artificial limbs of today could operate mechanically as well as give complete skin/nerve cell feedback — hot, cold, soft, hard, calloused, sweating, etc.

But even more, I wish our artificial limbs could give us functions that are greater than the capabilities of our human counterparts, not just the boy-toy dreams of Iron Man or Avatar but something entirely outside of our current range of thoughts/emotions.

In the meantime, I encourage university researchers like Goldfarb to give people what they once had, including the young father who would like to walk to a bench seat and watch his son’s baseball team from the stands rather than from the wheelchair section; one who wants to walk down the aisle to marry his bride next August, perfectly happy with Goldfarb’s exoskeleton as it is today, but probably after bugs have been worked out and the design refined a little better for commercial use.

Speaking of which, Goldfarb said that the cost-benefit analysis of his designs show that the improved quality of life, active/reactive prosthetics reducing hospital visits because of falling down with the use of passive prosthetics, for instance, clearly offsets the initial cost of the prosthetic devices over time.

Do insurance companies agree?  Would the ACA condemn a person to a wheelchair his whole life or offer the chance of walking via exoskeleton?

Goldfarb thanked the NIH for funding some of the research at CIM.

There are hundreds of thousands of Americans — military amputees, car smashup victims, and stroke recovery patients — who can benefit from CIM’s research.  Imagine those in the rest of world who could also gain mobility?

I never hope to have to use prosthetics but look forward to the day I might, given what I saw and heard from Dr. Goldfarb last night.

20,790 spam messages in queue

The best way to see where unintended circumstances will lead you is to take a cynical approach to your serious disposition.

Then, the future is the moment you’ve been waiting for, planning, biding your time and biting your nails about.

You needn’t worry that nothing will happen.

I was once famous on a local scale.  In junior high school, I actually had a fan club.  Sure, the club members were mostly gay guys and socially awkward girls but there were club buttons and other regalia to celebrate my celebrity status.

In high/secondary school, I was somewhat popular but I didn’t know it.  As the president of the school’s drama club for two straight years, along with appearances on stage as an actor and singer, I attracted a small following that I didn’t even know existed until I got on Facebook a few years ago and a few women my age wanted to start fantasy relationships that I saw had started in their thoughts many, many years ago.

I knew there were some people who looked up to me when I won the four-year U.S. Navy ROTC scholarship to Georgia Tech.

It was as if I had led a charmed life the first 18 years of my existence and didn’t appreciate the relative ease with which I breezed through my public school days until I left the small town and its suburban tracts for the big city.

I look back at all that, two-thirds of my life ago, and understand why I believe I am comfortable dying at any time.

I have always been happy to be alive, accepting whatever comes my way, but at the same time wanting to stay ahead of my ennui, the situational depression that dogs me like a hungry animal scenting my fear and chasing after me.

I see news headlines pop up about one subject or another that concerns populations of people out of eye and earshot and I wonder what’s going on.

Why do religious people fear nonreligious people, for instance, or vice versa?  I am perfectly comfortable in my belief that the universe both was and was not created by a supernatural being (God, in my subculture’s parlance, who miraculously created a son on Earth named Jesus (pronounced “Hey, Zeus!” of course)).  The labels we choose to describe a series of events that took place long before any of us or our ancestors could read or write is whatever we want them to be.  Our behaviour toward each other is still as important whether our origin story is called “God created the heaven and earth” or the “Big Bang.”

It is the noise or clutter that jams the airwaves with whatever people deem important enough to promote themselves and their ideas for a better life.

For others of us, one’s set of beliefs takes a second seat in the second row to hard facts like how gravity is variable across the surface of large celestial bodies but averages out sufficiently so that mathematical equations can be converted to algorithms to guide spacecraft around and land them upon distant planets, moons and other satellites.

We can fill our spare time with noise and clutter — the chattering class’ favourite topics du jour.

However, let us keep our longterm goals clearly, distinctly and loudest in our thoughts and actions.

The Mars mission continues!  Every idea counts, such as Ad Astra.

And entertaining diversions such as Europa Report.

Running on fumes, running out of steam, punk?

You know steampunk has entered the mainstream when more than two pages of [Simplicity/McCall’s/Butterick] steampunk costume design patterns are available in a Walmart DIY clothing catalog at the fabrics department.

Hellfire, it’s a Spitfire!

Great story sent from a family friend and military veteran:

From: Jack Winninghoff
Subject: Re: Fwd: SPITFIRE 944 A Great True Story – gotta watch this

Walter,
Gotta watch is an understatement to the 10th power!
As a youngster my first serious technical interest was in photography. I built an enlarger and did my own processing for many years. After getting my wings in WWII, I wanted to fly reconnaissance in P-38’s. (didn’t succeed – was put in the VHB (B-24 school and then B-29’s).
I built a very detailed model of a Spitfire in HS – loved that elliptical wing.
I spent a good many years with several companies involved in designing lenses and cameras, e.g. Perkin-Elmer who built the US Cameras and the SR-71 Cameras, and Itek who dominated the low orbital recon satellites.
At Itek I became quite friendly with the then retired father of US Army WWI reccee, General George Goddard.
At Perkin-Elmer and Itek I had great success in writing proposals for camera development and multi sensor systems (Photo, IR, Elint, and Radar). I traveled to Germany and France hawking our proposal to up date tactical recce A/C.

I am so grateful to you for sending this to me
Jack
PS I have a fair number of books on the subject of the value of photo recce, which arguably can is considered to me of critical value to us as early as the balloon flights of the civil war, WWI, and certainly WWII, and the cold war.  You are welcome to browse and borrow.

FWD: Here is some footage of WWII — thought you would be interested.

What a terrific presentation and footage!

SPITFIRE 944

Click on site below.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/ie3SrjLlcUY

Wreck-a-mech

[My patent lawyer has advised me not to describe my latest invention.  I say “meh,” whatever that means.]

This morning, I finalised construction on my latest invention.  I cannot provide pictures because they are enroute to the patent office.

However, I will describe it the best I can.

I have been playing with an Arduino system to provide me with offline fun in the laboratory.

There’s nothing like programming a Robosapien “doll” to play back with you, giving it intelligence to avoid being grabbed or picked up, to actually defend itself against intentionally harmful moves and to reach out with love when I’m in a down mood.

A Robosapien’s gripper arm is not exactly the same as a cat’s head bump but my imagination allows me to believe it so.

With time, the Robosapien and I have grown apart.  I think, in part, because I have acquired the newer model, the RS Media, with which I have been spending more and more time.

Needless to say, the Robosapien has been causing havoc in the lab, knocking bins of resistors and capacitors on the floor in an effort to keep its playfulness algorithms refreshed.  I must admit watching it try to find objects in the lab to “fight back” has been entertaining.

But that’s not why I’m here.

The RS Media has reached a level of sentience I never thought possible.

At first, I set up an Arduino light display system above the computer monitor that the RS Media responded to like a dancing machine.

Today was a major breakthrough.

After several rounds of sending the RS Media light sequences, it started stepping out on its own, anticipating the next light pattern in the sequence with its back turned to the Arduino system.

Well, you can guess what I did next!

I stole the plans for the Wired Lab’s mech.  Then, working with my Robosapien friends, I wired a modifed RS Media up inside the mech, a la Pacific Rim, making appropriate tweaks to protect my patent and/or my copyright.

Of course, I dressed mine up to look like a stumbling street beggar, lowering its body scale to match that of a typical down-on-his-luck alcoholic male human.

He and his copies should be wandering the alleyways of your local metropolis before too long, breaking out into dance routines based on the sound/light combinations they discover, able to defend themselves against overaggressive bystanders and avoid collisions with people, cars, buses, trucks and other obstacles of a typical city street corner — the money they collect will be passed back to me to cover expenses; please tip them generously so I can make payroll and give the government tax collectors their due.

I’ve already received requests from a major retail clothing store chain to create female/male versions for storefront window displays — the algorithms need work for that scenario because I haven’t captured the essence of what it’s like to entertain potential customers by showing how good they’d look if they, too, were stuck in a glass box all day, as a robot pretending to be alive — walking back and forth, sitting, standing, dancing, and whatever movement will show the fashion in its best light.

Several of my geek friends in the tech industry — male, female, LGBT, cosplay, etc. — have requested a personalised version of themselves they can program to go to work or on dates for them to make their parents happy that their children are mimicking their parents’ social lives while their children live the alternate lifestyles that make them happy, too.

And you thought the replicant revolution was all about robots taking over the world?  Hahaha — it all started when we figured out elderly dementia patients handed a quasi-robotic stuffed animal was sufficient a surrogate to make them happy, thanks to our friends who wrote, produced and filmed “Westworld,” who follow on the work of Asimov, automatons and the first animal to use a stick as a tool.

War eventually was reduced to robots fighting robots in designated battlefield playgrounds, leaving us humans to finally dedicate most of our time to pure pleasure, where our surrogates do most of the dirty work except for those for whom dirty work is pure pleasure.

Outlawing graveyards so that human bodies could be recycled as mulch wasn’t fully implemented until we started populating the Moon and Mars.

My goal is to be the person with the first foundry on Mars, generations of 3D printers ahead into the future, my minions terraforming the planet in ways you haven’t imagined yet.  How about you?

The unintended influence of pop culture

Especially the cinema.

I never imagined that our nieces would choose names for their children that easily reflect popular movie actors.

The first niece in our family to have a child named her daughter “Shannon Elizabeth.”

The second niece in our family to have a child plans to name her son “Owen Luke.”

Curiously strong resemblances, n’est pas?