My comment on his entry:
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I was 11 in the mid-fifties, the heyday of the alien invasion movies. It was always robots that wreaked havoc. I don't remember the name of the movie (too young, too long ago), but there was one robot with a bullet-shaped head, and a panel that slid up where his eyes would be, and a lethal ray shot out of the eye space. He'd just turn toward you, and the panel would slide slowly up, and no matter how fast you ran, the ray would shoot out and zap you. I had to ride my bicycle home after the movies, alone, in the dark, and it just so happened that the shadow the front fender made in the bike headlight was EXACTLY the same shape as the robot's head. I pedaled faster and faster and couldn't get away from the idea of the robot stalking me.
I think what made robots especially scary then was that they were absolutely emotionless, and impervious to reason. Sorta like my father, now that I think about it....
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Until I wrote that comment, I hadn't made the connection. For years after that movie, even into my thirties, (actually, until my father died), that robot was an occasional part of my nightmares. The robot would be passing, and would notice me, and slowly turn, and the shutter would slide up, and it would kill me, and there was no emotion, and no recourse, no reasoning. Just like in real life, my father would be passing, and would notice me, and turn contemplatively, and the shutters would drop in his eyes, and he'd try to kill me, and there was no emotion (he'd feign anger, but it wasn't real), no recourse, no reasoning. I guess somewhere deep down I made the connection of course - and that's why the robot frightened me so much.
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