memory to the executed cosmonaut vsevolod volkov.
Robot arms make me weak ;;;;
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Ford’s attitude toward the hosts reminds me of the way some men put women on a pedestal: “Women shouldn’t be treated the same as men because they’re so much BETTER, they’re not like normal humans, they’re above all this having Rights stuff and being able to vote stuff, they shouldn’t have jobs because they should be WORSHIPED!”
Ford does the same exact thing, exalting the hosts for What the are, not Who they are. He respects them as beings higher than and apart from humanity, and so affords them no respect as humans. (which for all intents and purposes, they are. fight me.) He abuses them and it doesn’t pain him because he can’t relate to them, they aren’t like him.
He’s an abusive father who sees his children as his for the taking and the using, even as he believes he loves them.
some questions
why am I so small…
why is my train of thought a dialogue instead of a monologue…
every now and then I find something (a tv show, an album) that speaks to me on a certain level and hits me at a wavelength that I love, and I indulge and enjoy it. but before too long, the resonance unglues me a little bit and shakes my moors.
it makes me want to stretch myself out of my body and break windows and build sky scrapers in moments. it makes me feel like I’m barely on the ground so that I need to intentionally move my muscles one at a time so I can walk over and turn it off.
and, its not that I want to turn it off, because I don’t. its just that it stops me from being a human, and even though that’s not a bad experience in itself, I am not made of fire or wind and I simply cannot stretch myself out of my body or smash windows with my heat or grow into something massive in only moments. it hurts to not be able to, so I have to turn it off and be a human.
in the mood to kick down doors