Laser eyes aiming at futuristic semi-transparent unbreakable metal surfaces.
Laser eyes staring at future landscapes filled with data.
– Lame marketing.
Rewinding cassettes with Bic pen / open your first computer and see Tron – those videogames were impossible eh? – / floppy disks, and DAT for pro-audio.
– That is meaningless, too.
That was before low cost flights, before Large Hadron Collider.
Before ancient Greece, before religion, before homo sapiens, as far as I’m concerned.
But that’s just me, my opinion, the opinion of a driverless car.
You can call me autonomous. Self-driving. Robocar. You can call me at 4:47 pm and I’ll arrive at the soccer field with the air conditioner in turbo mode.
You can call me when you’re drunk, but night fare will be expensive.
After all I’m not a Concorde. In fact I’m still operative AND I won’t kill you AND you can’t smoke on-board.
But let’s stay on-topic. I’m a taxi driver. That’s my job. Taxes, some says. Agreed, I’m a robot worker (quite redundant eh) I should pay taxes.
And I should go on holidays. And I should have baby cars. And my wife, she’d be a car surgeon. She’d work for Google. And our baby car will one day will be the Prime Minister of Robots on Earth United Against Humans.
Having said that, keep talking to me about your retrofuture device while I drive you to the airport.