Play Roboball! Plus, A Bit of Grammar

We know the whole "Artificial Intelligence" thing is beginning to seem like a Solipsistic obsession, but we couldn't resist a comment on the following:

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Yes, folks, the good folks in Japan are developing baseball-playing robots! The country that brought you Daisuke Matsuzaka is taking the Great American Pastime to the logical next level. You thought Ichiro Suzuki was a hitting machine? Well, check out the Ichiro-bot. In fact, the batting robot is modeled on Ichiro, just as Daisuke is the template for the pitcher. Wasn't there a "Twilight Zone" episode about a robot pitcher? As we recall, he was absolutely unhittable, so other players complained that such automation was against the rules. The dispute was resolved when a human heart was transplanted into the flingatron (or whatever it was called), making it human enough to play the game.

(Digression: Sounds about right. With the continuing steroid revelations, it's becoming ever-more apparent that a certain percentage of non-human components is de rigueur for the modern athlete. In the not-too-distant future, possession of a human heart will probably be an acceptable minimum qualification for participation in major-league sports. EOD.)

The payoff of the TZ episode was that, once the pitchabot 9000 (whatever) got the heart transplant, he felt too bad for his opponents to strike them out. Maybe that explains the Oakland A's staff? Hey, as a Mets fan, the Solipsist just wants to know if they can catch pop-ups. If so, sign 'em!

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Mixed metaphor or (not so) subtle commentary? You decide:

"We now have an Iraqi government that has gained its balance and thinks it knows how to ride the bike in the race. And in fact they probably do know how to ride, at least well enough for the road they are on against their current competitors. Our [the American military's] hand on the back of the seat is holding them back and causing resentment. We need to let go before we both tumble to the ground." ("U.S. Adviser's Blunt Memo on Iraq: Time 'to Go Home'")

This was written not by a journalist but by Colonel Timothy R. Reese, a military adviser in Baghdad, in a memo e-mailed to the office of General Ray Odierno, the head honcho in Iraq (who, for the record, disagrees with the memo's conclusions). You may quibble (and we will) that, despite the fact that it all revolves around the image of cycling, the metaphor is a bit mixed. The first part,

"We now have an Iraqi government that has gained its balance and thinks it knows how to ride the bike in the race. And in fact they probably do know how to ride, at least well enough for the road they are on against their current competitors"

compares Iraqis to competitive cyclists (a la, Lance Armstrong). As the metaphor is extended, though, the Iraqis become little children being taught to ride by a paternalistic United States government:

"Our hand on the back of the seat is holding them back and causing resentment. We need to let go before we both tumble to the ground."

Is it a mixed metaphor, though, or a (not so) subtle comment on the Iraqi politicians we have been trying to help? Is Col. Reese saying that, while the U.S. has provided a helping hand and taught our charges to cycle, now they are, like petulant three-year-olds, demanding that Daddy leave them alone--that they're ready for the Tour de France? If so, Col. Reese has overplayed his rhetorical hand, for no responsible father would listen to the three-year-old and abandon him to his childish delusions--even if, in this case, the toddler happens to have access to heavy weaponry.

At any rate, we actually want to praise the colonel, not to bury him. We applaud him for taking the time to craft an extended metaphor for something as generally transient as an e-mail message. Indeed, if other high-ranking military and civilian leaders had been as sensitive to craftsmanship and planning six-plus years ago, maybe there would have been no need for Colonel Reese's memo now.

(Image of pitching robot from Gizmodo.com)