I’m not sure if I’ve ever discussed my Grand Unifying Theory of the Ole Perfesser with y’all, but it basically amounts to this: the Perfesser’s goal is to doze through life by sedating himself with as many gadgets and technodoodads as possible until that glorious day arrives when he’s finally able to download his brain into a robot body and blast off into space (preferably with some of his robowhores in tow). And if any folks- whether they’re envirohippies who want to ban his gas-guzzling SUV or Muslamonazis who want to homicide-bomb his collection of iPods- try to interfere with the Perfesser’s right to be a lazy shit, then they must be… dealt with.
It's a beautiful thing.
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