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To: Lazamataz

“Your wife is cool”

That’s what she tells me 😏


18 posted on 02/19/2024 6:40:05 AM PST by V_TWIN (America...so great even the people that hate it refuse to leave!)
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To: V_TWIN

A quick critique of Azimov’s I, Robot.

Asimov’s Literary Laziness: “I, Robot” reads like the first draft of a high schooler’s science fiction project—half-baked, uninspired, and utterly forgettable. Asimov’s characters are as dull as dishwater, his plotlines are about as thrilling as watching paint dry, and his prose is as engaging as a tax audit. It’s a wonder anyone ever thought this drivel was worth publishing.

Predictability on Steroids: If you want a book that surprises you, “I, Robot” is about as likely to do that as a broken record playing the same tired tune on repeat. Asimov’s plot twists are as shocking as a wet noodle, and his resolution to each story is as predictable as sunrise. Reading “I, Robot” is like going on a roller coaster with training wheels—it’s bland, it’s safe, and it’s utterly devoid of excitement.

Intellectual Insult: Asimov insults the intelligence of his readers with his shallow exploration of artificial intelligence and ethics. His attempts at philosophical depth are as deep as a kiddie pool, and his ethical dilemmas are as thought-provoking as a game of tic-tac-toe. It’s intellectual baby food for those who can’t handle anything more substantial.

Gender Backwardsness: Asimov’s portrayal of women in “I, Robot” is straight out of the 1950s—a time when women were expected to be seen and not heard. His female characters are as two-dimensional as paper dolls, serving no purpose other than to fawn over the male protagonists. It’s a disgraceful display of misogyny that belongs in the dustbin of history.

Emotionless Void: Reading “I, Robot” is about as emotionally fulfilling as staring at a blank wall—it’s cold, it’s lifeless, and it’s utterly devoid of any human warmth. Asimov’s writing lacks soul, lacking the emotional depth and resonance needed to connect with readers on any meaningful level. It’s a literary wasteland where empathy and passion go to die.

In conclusion, “I, Robot” is a literary abomination of the highest order. Asimov’s laziness, predictability, intellectual insult, gender bias, and emotional void combine to create a reading experience that’s as enjoyable as a root canal performed by a blindfolded dentist. It’s a disgrace to the genre of science fiction and an insult to anyone with even a modicum of taste.


21 posted on 02/19/2024 6:45:12 AM PST by Lazamataz (Laz 2005: "First, we beat the Soviet Union. Then we became them.")
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