We discuss the believability of lies and what grandmas do in their spare time (knitting, baking, plotting death upon their enemies, etc.). Then we regale you with a tale of unsocialized idiots tuning into mysterious women from the future with rheostats. Rheostati? Rheostatuses? Preposteruses!
As implied above, this week’s story is a whole bunch of Science Fiction hoo-ha in the vein of Twilight Zone or an episode of Black Mirror that’s 99% less about the bleak horrors of existence and inevitible crushing of the human experience by technology. It’s from Galaxy Science Fiction, June, 1955, so if you like two guys talking about dames and the scientific breakthroughs that will finally allow one of them to feel love than this is the story for you. Basically what we’re really getting at is that Ex Machina is a complete rip-off of this and someone owes someone else a lot of money.
So it’s time to curl up in your favorite laboratory with your girlfriend who lives in Canada or Europe or wherever and grab a drink while we read you this week’s tale.
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