Roxxxy the Sex Robot

The news is all abuzz about the recent introduction, at a Las Vegas sex show, of "Roxxxy the Robot". Like her predecessor, the blow up doll, Roxxxy (actual spelling) has been constructed as a sex partner for people who can't actually manage to have or buy sex from real people, and thus must resort to robots.

She has an "articularing skeleton" (however she is unable to walk or stand), life like skin and can be purchased in whatever colour, ethnicity or hair type you wish. Like all good sex robots, she comes with the requisite three orifices and to my mind, a very weirdly shaped nose.

Unlike more rudimentary sex robots, of which I am certain there are a few out there, Roxxxy has five programable personalities: 'Wild Wendy' (she must be Southern), 'Frosty Francis'(who I bet speaks with a posh British accent) and so on. She can also be programmed to chat with you about your interests: if you like soccer, so will Roxxxy. If you like "American Idol" so will Roxxy. She'll even "text" messages to you about your interests. Roxxxy doesn't just spout out set phrases, she has been programmed to "respond" to you by the miracle of artificial intelligence.

Now none of this is what I find absolutely bizarre about Roxxxy. I am well aware, as was "The Shadow", of what darkness lurks in the hearts of men.

No, it is not that it's a rather unattractive sex robot. Rather it is what the inventor says inspired the creation of "Roxxxy the Robot": 9/11.

Yes, I am not making this up. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

The creator, a robotic scientist, advises that a good friend of his, let's call him Mark, was a passenger on United 93 which as we all know crashed in Pennsylvania after the passengers banded together and tried to take back control of the plane.

Apparently the scientist was so distraught about the death of his friend, that he made it his life's mission, in Mark's memory, to devise a means to have "stored his intelligence" somewhere.

Now don't get me wrong. I can see how the devastating loss of an old and dear friend might lead one in a quest for some means of eternal intelligence deposit. On an old 'Star Trek' episode some superior civilization deposited their intelligences in a series of big, weird 1960s round glow light bulbs. Why shouldn't the scientist have a go?

But where do you get from "my friend Mark died in a terrorist attack" to "I think I shall construct a sex robot in which to place Mark's intelligence".

Did his friend Mark and he have a sexual relationship which the inventor was trying to recreate? If not, did they share an interest in having sex with robots? Did they both have a thing for the Borg Queen on 'Star Trek TNG'? Why a sex robot?

I realize people do strange things when in the throws of grief, but if I died and my friends got together and created, in my memory, a bangable robot, I would really have to wonder. I actually think I might come back to haunt them or someting.

So in future people, if I pass prematurely, in my memory create something a little more ummm....appropriate for my wake than a Beth Memorial Sex Robot.

But if you must, make sure my robot loses 20 pounds, gets fuller lips than the original and sports a really good haircut.

Oh and by the way, make sure my robot's wearing my new pair of Guess jeans.