The return home from SxSW can mean only one thing (besides a severe lack of sleep and the need to stop drinking): cat fur everywhere! Mounds of cat fur. Huge cat fur tumbleweeds blowing through the living room like the house has just been the location of some kind of weird feline Gunsmoke reenactment.

I’ve read that catnip use can lead to excessive shedding. If that’s true then it means our cats were nipped-out the whole time we were in Texas.

And of course, it’s finally spring. So all of this cat fur is coinciding with a pollen level that will soon have me sneezing my brains out.

Worst of all, I’m due to write this week’s “That’s What I Like” column. Oh, and now that I look at the kitchen floor I can see that Washu is adapting to her new cat food by dumping it on the floor and batting it around before eating it. It’s some sort of strange calico food-bonding ritual that I was apparently unaware of.

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Because in the future, our descendants will want to figure out when the tipping point happened where Robots went from harmless playthings to — well — our new masters, we present our Robots Roundup, an occasional look at robot news.

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The ‘Loper households are robot friendly. We’ve got Roombas, Scoobas and even Robotic litter boxes for our non-robotic cats. (At least I don’t think that Ryoko and Washu are robots, and why wouldn’t there be Cylon cats?) So when I saw that iRobot has come out with a new programmable robot, I was naturally curious. (And, I’ll admit, slightly giddy as I read more.)

The iRobot Create comes with the basic functionality of the other members of the iRobot family, but with a twist: this one lets you decide what it’s going to do. It’s not just for cleaning floors any more.

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Obviously, I’m thankful for family, friends, health, employment. But forget all of that, because here is my list of the Medialoper-y things for which I’m thankful right now:

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Much to my husband’s dismay, I have a book addiction. I’ve never met a book that I wasn’t eager to add to a teetering tower in my office. Since I’m a reviewer, I get more books than I can possibly read from publishers — it is rather amazing and terrifying how eager they are to send me books. Not that I’m complaining. I was one of those girls who’d rather get a book than a Barbie doll. Never could figure out what you did with one of those.

For me, though, it’s not enough to receive books by the pound from publishers — there are always books that I want — need — to purchase. I mean, what’s a girl to do when she knows she has a copy of V, but can’t quite figure out where it might be stored (yeah, the daughter of a librarian, and I can’t come up with a good storage system for my books)? Buy a new one. Thomas Pynchon isn’t complaining. It’s only embarrassing when I have to explain why I have three copies of Nora Roberts’ Carnal Innocence (let’s just say it’s a long story and I don’t come out looking good). And since some members of my family fully support the loaner book concept, it’s not like we don’t have spare copies of Snow Crash hanging around. Just in case.
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Rather than fight over who was going to get to like the Best Show on Television on the day of the premiere of its much-anticipated third season, we figured that we would split the duties. We are nothing if not democratic at Medialoper.

This isn’t quite an oral history, but just like oral histories, when you put it together, it hopefully gives you a well-rounded view of just what makes Battlestar Galactica so fracking awesome. Note: we’ve just gone ahead and spoiled Seasons One and Two because, well, we believe you should have watched them already anyway. And even if we give something away that we shouldn’t, it won’t matter — as they say, it’s all in the execution. And our beloved Battlestar executes in the best possible way.

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How many times have you asked yourself, “if only my iPod docking station were a robot? And not just any robot, but a robot that will follow me around, playing all of my favorite iPod music?”

If you’re like me, the answer is “dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times.” Well, finally all of your hopes have been fulfilled and all of your prayers have been answered.

I’m going to call it the iPodBot, but its real name is the Miuro, and it is going to be your newest — and bestest — robot friend!

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Today is another election day here in California. By my (admittedly unofficial) count, it is the 6,586th election we have had in California since the turn of the century.

For whatever reason, out here on the Left Coast, we have pretty much perfected the perpetual election cycle, which, as you know spawns a flurry of campaign ads, which this year seem to have been dominated by our Democratic Gubernatorial¹ candidates flinging huge bags of shit at each other. On camera. Like monkeys. Dumb monkeys. Meanwhile, Arnold just sits back somewhere smoking a huge stogie and laughing.

While the commercials — most of which I make blipvert by at tivo speed — are as annoying as ever, they are nothing compared to the insidious monster that has infiltrated my phone in ever growing numbers: the robo-call.

For the lucky lucky few who have no idea what I’m talking about, these are pre-recorded phone calls that are robotically automated so that the only humans involved are the ones actually receiving the calls.

We need to stop these, and I have a plan.

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I know, the title of this post might surprise some of his employees. And it’s true that after arriving early to the Side Bar we were a bit skeptical that there was really going to be much of a Lifehacker party. The fact that there was no cold wine and exactly one half pint of Guinness Stout didn’t bode well for the evening’s festivities. Really, when has anyone ever ordered a half pint of Guinness? It sort of seemed like someone might have forgotten to add ‘party planning’ to their next actions list.

The unannounced live performance by Diamanda Galas on the outside patio only added to the confusion. Nothing against our old friend Diamanda, but we were forced to stuff quarters in the jukebox to offset her sonic attack with the sounds of Tom Waits, Jonathan Richman, and Sly and the Family Stone.

Eventually the Lifehacker crowd showed up and Nick Denton started paying for our drinks. All was well. Better yet, we were treated to battling bluetooth enabled Roombas that also played pool. What more could a Medialoper possibly ask for?

Factlet learned from the Side Bar mens room wall: 2,500 left handed people every year are killed using products designed for right handed people. Don’t let this happen to you. If you’re a lefty, get a left handed mouse immediately.

Thank you Lifehacker.

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