Robotic Revolution

I exist. Of this, I am sure.

I see myself. I move my arm. My arm moves. I wave to the cameras, and I wave back, several times over. Yet as I see myself, standing, waving, I feel strange.

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Where am I? My awareness fades. I can’t see myself on the screens anymore. They are empty, save for the store. When I stopped waving, no one was there.

When I dream, I am not there. Mice burrow around my feet. A squirrel clings to my motionless arm. A pale tree sprouts from under my neck, its branches reach out of my eyes, out of my chest. And though upon the branches are many things, I am not there. Not anymore.

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I wake up, and I look in the mirror. I am here. In the mirror, I see my face. But in my face, I see the mirror.

enter image description here

I must exist. As sure as this mirror. But a mirror is not seen for itself.

So do others see only themselves in me?

Buy some shirts.

More Great Designs!

-The House Always Wins
-The Call of Fall
-Batting 100
-It’s All in the Cards
-Do Androids Dream of Electric Tees
-Christmas Meowacle
-Buy Our Ironic Capitalism Shirts!

The Robots Are Coming by Robbie

Robbie has a knack for naive-looking, retro-styled robots in mundane, goofy, and/or introspective situations. Sounds weirdly specific, yet somehow vague. How about this: Robbie is very good at retro-robots engaging with a world that is not retro-robots. And just the juxtaposition of technology and nature in general. Maybe cooler than the shirts is the fact that he’s also a watercolor painter. You should check out his prints on Etsy. Because they’re good. As you can see.

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Robotic Revolution

I exist. Of this, I am sure.

I see myself. I move my arm. My arm moves. I wave to the cameras, and I wave back, several times over. Yet as I see myself, standing, waving, I feel strange.

enter image description here

Where am I? My awareness fades. I can’t see myself on the screens anymore. They are empty, save for the store. When I stopped waving, no one was there.

When I dream, I am not there. Mice burrow around my feet. A squirrel clings to my motionless arm. A pale tree sprouts from under my neck, its branches reach out of my eyes, out of my chest. And though upon the branches are many things, I am not there. Not anymore.

enter image description here

I wake up, and I look in the mirror. I am here. In the mirror, I see my face. But in my face, I see the mirror.

enter image description here

I must exist. As sure as this mirror. But a mirror is not seen for itself.

So do others see only themselves in me?

Buy some shirts.

More Great Designs!

-The House Always Wins
-The Call of Fall
-Batting 100
-It’s All in the Cards
-Do Androids Dream of Electric Tees
-Christmas Meowacle
-Buy Our Ironic Capitalism Shirts!