This was supposed to be the name of my first blog - the one that was named Cats with Knives, but I chickened out, thinking that Killer Baby Robots sounded like a strategy for Jihad, and I assure you, any strategy I had for jihad would be totally lame. I'd be like, "How about we just put our weapons down and watch Law and Order SVU?" That show seems to suck any kind of will to do anything right out of a person. Especially on a Sunday, when they're showing a marathon of them.
What Killer Baby Robots really refers to is a picture of my nephews when they were two and three, standing in pajama pants and with their shirts off, and strangely, bizarrely muscled for toddlers. But they were. In this picture, the flash had caught then strangely, and they both had red eyes, like killer baby robots, both posing like Jack Lalanne.
But that's silly! You cry! Killer Baby Robots don't exist!
Well, no shit there's no such things as killer baby robots. But, Jesus, wouldn't they be awesome?
My army of killer baby robots would go and be persistently adorable and helpless. They would crumple the business world like babies taking candy....from other babies. Yeah, that bad. I don't know what would happen after that, but I suspect that after anarchy comes a new world order. So, yeah, that. We can worry about that later.
And I guess that's what this blog is about: taking apart what currently exists, and seeing if anything else, anything more beneficial, can be made of it. Maybe, heavy emphasis.
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