ones and zeroes

Imagine a roomful of robots reading poetry to each other.

One gets up and shares an algorithm that makes every machine try to snap its fingers.

There's one about extension cords and one about endless data and one about zeroes and ones and ones and zeroes.

There's a lot of understanding but no tears or goosebumps or changes in temperature.

A hard drive may have overheated, but nobody got cold.

Robots don't get cold. 

I read two blogs tonight that dropped the temperature of my house:
her name was adleen
last thing, before you go

So go ahead without me, because I'm going to spend the rest of the night trying to figure this all out.

Let's spend the rest of our lives trying to figure this all out. 

No, please, keep studying for your science test and keep playing Trivia Crack until you have a winning record. Please. Keep putting your head down during Anis Mojgani's poetry and keep worrying about that ACT score. No, really, fire up Call of Duty or Pinterest or both and find anyway to escape this moment right now.

How can anyone blame you? Your dad gets mad whenever you turn up the heater.

Our lives are just someone else's Snapchat story and we'll never guess the password no matter how long we try.

I have a pile of 10th grade papers that I'm probably never going to grade.

I told my daughter I couldn't tell her a story tonight because we played Memory and watched Tangled and I guess somehow that felt like enough.

Even the ones who seem to have it all figured out somehow manage to do it wrong now and then.

I'll finish this blog post before 9 o'clock because I have to go play basketball and get my temperature back up again.

If you recognize this algorithm, then snap your fingers, snap your fingers, snap your fingers.