If there has been one universal understanding brought to the fore by the internet, it is that robots are pretty awesome. While still claiming a very large portion of my daily thoughts, pirates and ninjas never really earned their internet stripes. Sure, there’s Real Ultimate Power, but that’s about it for Ninja-Representation. Pirates aren’t even that lucky. Robots, however, have really embraced the internet and called it “home” (can a robot even have a home?). To demonstrate their intertube prowess, the great robotic aristocracy has taken up a particularly cultured hobby: dance.

While this collection of Dancing Robots is more of a Whitman Sampler, than a comprehensive encyclopedia on the matter, it should serve as a reminder that there are things out there, made of circuitry, plastic, metal, and fiberglass, that are significantly more awesome than your l33t gaming rig.

A reminder; this list is in order from Worst to Best, and is most certainly not comprehensive. It is nigh impossible for a mere carbon-being such as myself to understand the vastness and intricacies of the mechanized dance world.

The Keepon robot, while initially cute, is little more than a snowcone bobbing and swaying on a small pedestal. Sure, there’s probably some technology that bobs and sways with the music, but the fact is, my cat can bob and sway with music. She can also kill. I feel no such threat here, and frankly, I’m offended by this oversight.

This is better; more wiggling, more flailing, more legs. The seemingly impromptu wardrobe certainly adds a flair that was missing from the previous example. In fact, if Keepon was to wear an old-fashioned Derby hat complete with Clark Gable Mustache, I would have appreciated its bobbing rotundness more. Unlike the Keepon however, the Hexapod exhibits a much more dangerous quality; it’s not exceptionally difficult to imagine this finely clothed automaton, crawling under the bed sheets, dancing its way up a torso to go for the kill.

The first disturbing example: a ballroom dancing fembot, complete with probably-psychotic-yet-finely-dressed Japanese gentleman/programmer. Obviously, the man was toying with adult proportions, taffy, and LSD when conception began. Of course, the Oriental lunatic needed to over-Japanify it by including Mickey Mouse ears. This is appropriately excessive and obscene, but, it is Japan; I’m startled that there are no obnoxiously large, wet eyes. Still, its movements are… disappointing. Threat to humanity? Meh, I’ll wait and see.

VICI, or Voice Input Child Identicant (and often referred to as Vicki, with a k), is from a 1980’s sitcom called Small Wonder. I’ll let Wikipedia explain:

A robot modeled after a real human girl. She has real hair and realistic skin. She possesses super human strength and speed and runs on atomic power. Vicki has an access panel in her back, an electric socket in her right armpit, and an RS-232 serial port under her left armpit. Vicki’s artificial intelligence is not perfect. She is incapable of emotion, speaks in a monotone voice, and interprets most commands literally. She does manage to blend in to the real world to a point. Vicki attends school, and no one but her family members and a few trusted friends know her secret. Occasionally VICI had rare abilities that seemed to only appear in one or two episodes, such as elongating her neck to reach a door’s peephole, shrinking her size to become as small as a doll or making herself ten feet tall to get noticed by everyone. One recurring theme was that VICI had a superpowered learning system which enabled her to improve upon something such as a new detergent or to greatly increase the gas mileage of cars, to which Ted and Jamie see it as a chance to get rich quick, only to find her improvements were not perfect. Vicki lives in a large cabinet in Jamie’s bedroom, and becomes more human over the course of the show.

Needless to say, the influence of roboticism infiltrated the modern household when this sitcom was on air. Shit became real, as someone probably said. Attempts at Vicki sightings have proven fruitless for the last 20 years, leading the majority of the public to believe she was dismantled after the show finished its run. If you’re interested, here’s the program intro.

The Sony Qrio — a bipedal marvel, complete with bobbing head, smooth movements, and sick moves. Sometimes it even looks like they’re robo-flirting with each other. Side issue: what is it with these Japanese trade shows? These folks sit around a stage watching robots dance, as if their entire fortune was invested in said dancing robots. Is that a commentary on what this world has become, or are they just rich nerds? Anyhow, the QRIO’s coordinated movements (did you see The Wave?) and humanoid features are undoubtedly awesome. Beck even used these guys in one of his music videos.

The HRP-2 “Geisha-Bot” brings all of the superior features of the Sony QRIO, and makes them bigger. Or so it seems. If this robot is actually trained in the Japanese art of Geisha-ism, is it sometimes confused for a prostitute? Where is its traditional cultural makeup and garb? Will it rub my feet, light some incense, and feed me grapes? Threat level: not sure. It’s got some zip, but I’m not getting the vibe that it knows how to apply itself to the mass extinction of its Creator. Sidenote: Again with these bizarre trade shows!

Asimo! This “mechanized child”… type… thing… has a royal bloodline. With an experimental model that dates back to 1986, the Asimo is similar to a Robo-God: mobile, smart, and ruthless. Listening to its boyish chirps of “I AM READY!” before it computationally bitchslaps another locomotion that humans take for granted, I am both scared and enthralled. Watch him run! Seriously! In terms of pure dance domination, Asimo seems to be at the top of his field, until…

David. From Santa (SATAN?!) Ana. He’s preceeded by two human imposters, but when you get to David from Santa Ana, you’ll know what the next generation of dancing robots will look like. “How is David from Santa Ana so real?,” you might ask yourself. No one is really sure. It’s as if a programming deity wrote some sort of Golden Meta-code, and threw it in a demonically constructed robot made of electronic sinew! David from Santa Ana’s slick style and lady-crushing wit can only be overcome by The Master of Robot Dance:

Johnny 5 is certainly the most successful and recognizable robot on this list, and for good reason. His reputation exceeds that of even Steve Guttenberg, his co-star in Short Circuit. This clip shows Johnny 5’s dance moves, but more importantly it shows his ability to connect and befriend humans (particularly females) with his charm (”C’mon Stuff! Lighten up!”). By plagiarizing John Travolta, Johnny 5 proves that he’s got the memory chips to learn without error: a necessity when destroying mankind. Plus, he pretty much brought Stephanie to orgasm with that twirl.

What wizards of robo-dance did I miss? Leave your ideas in the comments!

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