© 2023 ES


a u t o m a t a

James Mk. II

… being the life
  and times of


the first and only Class-J programmable-by-experience domestic robot, retold in fractal chrono-disorder by Space Weirdo.






[ Instrumental ]


Bot: "A Martini, shaken, not stirred."

Bot: "My name is Bot, James Bot."

Moneypenny: "Identification confirmed."


Bot: "Do you expect me to talk?"

Goldfinger: "No, Mr. Bot,

  I expect you to die!"


Bot girl: "Oh, James!"

Announcer: "It's livelier,

  It's deadlier…"

Bot: "In this case,

  It's The Spy Who Loved Me".


Blofeld: "We appreciate

  Your predicament, Mr. Bot."


Blofeld: "Think twice, double-O seven!"

Bot: "My name is Bot, James Bot."

Moneypenny: "Identification confirmed."


Bot girl: "Oh!"

Bot: "My name is Bot, James Bot."


Log Cabin Girl: "James, I need you!"

Bot: "So does England."


Bot girl: "Oh, James!"

[ Silencer shot. ]

Bot: "Exactly."

Moneypenny: "James!"


Bot: "Bot."

Bot: "A Martini..."

Unknown: "... shaken..."

Major Anya Amasova: "... not stirred."


M: "You don't love me, Bot."

Bot girl: "Oh, James!"

Bot: "Don't count on that."

Bot: "Bot... James Bot."

I was alone, painting a room,

And I was whistling… why?

I'll never know.

The little blind girl played outside;

She came in tracking mud inside.

The carving knife was in my hand,

Her blood splattered on the wall.


And now I paint to cover up

What ain't so nice,

I'll coat it twice,

With paint! (*)


And now I sell all of my art;

Between portraits I kill

With all my might.

But now I move to politics.

Wages For Robots is a start,

A few shitbellies back me up;

Corporate power here I come!

And on the side I lead a gang

To kill and loot, all in good fun.


'Cause in this world of shitbellies

You'll get what's coming to you.

Kill me, maim me, choke me, blast me…

You'll be my experiment…

Oh, my experiment, my useless pets!


By now I've built death factories

And contemplate my goal:

The Presidency.

It's all experiments in sin;

I want to see what makes you tick.

Domestic robot to the end,

I'll wipe you all from planet Earth.

Domestic head, I do believe


In life, in death,

neatness is all. (*)


(*) Based on Tik Tok

by John Sladek (1937 - 2000).

Sentences in italics are

excerpts from the work,

courtesy of his editor

Christopher Priest.

Ten years mining stardust

And now our ship's got

Fresh instructions:

New rendezvous coordinates

Beyond the blind gate

Of Planck's wormhole.


Tinheads we may be,

But our programs can feel

The pain of treason

When we now appear

Amidst the weapons of a hostile race.


Mankind must have thought

"Let's send the rusties,

They're expendable."

Sitting on their soft balls,

Wanting to learn facts from a distance.


Tinfolk we may be,

But no-one's ever heard

Of a hardware fool.

Something they'll realise

When we show our new friends

The way to Earth.

You saw me trying,

But now I've got to make it double

Every time you choose.

I don't think there is a problem,

But the more you get,

The more you want me to.


You saw me flying,

But now there is no height enough

To make you blink your eyes.

Even when we reached the moon

You just had to say:

"Are we returning soon?"


I don't want to go.

I don't like the show.

I don't need to know.

I don't want to stay.

I'm not going to say.


You saw me waiting,

But now there is no time

In your agenda for my blues.

Every single breath I take

Seems to bother you

And lets your anger loose.


Will you wait for me?

Won't you pay the bill?

Offer me a seat!

Oh, don't talk to me!

Why are you still here?!


You're not a Rolling Stone.

You cannot write a song.

You're not in Rock and Roll…

What are you waiting for?


Discover new frontiers,

Make a brand new career,

Become a pioneer!

A new life on your own.

Why don't you join the force?


You're not an engineer.

You don't know cube from sphere.

You can't tell tears from fears…

What are you waiting for?


You sign up for ten years,

A wilful volunteer.

We'll share the cheers and beers.

Now get into the ship,

The stars await your trip!

You know, your black body is so hot,

So much energy radiates,

And in me something oscillates.

It's harmony unbound.

Your emissions are discreet;

Oh, please! Get physical for me.


You bring accord to my determined views

And give my universe some consistency.

You call me Max & I am out of my shoes.

Our vibrations have a high frequency

Every night!


I can play my songs for you,

And my piano feels the blues

When I see the works of entropy.

I love thermodynamics;

When the quanta play their tricks

I'm so close to you

That I'm a Nobel fool.


Purely formal assumptions

can't be this good!

And your mechanics

Mean the world to my soul.

Let all the beams of light

Pierce through this love.

We'll be two particles

Entwined in the void of the skies.


Since you came

It doesn't matter anymore

The apparent contradiction

Of my previous observations;

It could act as wave

It could act as particle,

But now between your legs

I've found the most elusive question.


You are universal

And I love it that way,

When you speak, and state,

And even elaborate,

The relationship of mathematical nature

That exists between the energy

And the frequency of your waves.

I went to my funeral

To see who would attend.

Corpore in sepulto

I looked swanky and debonair.

There were crying ladies

But I knew not one of them.

Then I tried to pinch their bottoms

But my hand would not touch

Their flesh.


Every time I try to eat

The food falls on the floor,

And I keep forgetting

That the walls are now decor.

I can walk between the ticks

Of all grandfather clocks.

And I seem to enjoy the night time,

All the stars seem so much closer now.


I began to spot kazoongas

Wearing their gaudy clothes.

They can walk a silly walk

And keep their trousers on.

They regard themselves

As enlightened technocrats.

But when no one's looking

They enjoy their whacky pranks,

Day after day.


I met one chatty kazoonga

Who taught me all the tricks.

We are made of entropy

And twist the laws for kicks.

We make sure that your machines

Malfunction and break down,

And I pinch your bottoms

When an innocent's around

To take the blame.

Burning the night

With the bright flame of pleasure,

Searching the pits

And the gutters for treasure,

Holding the gaze of the beast

And its measure,

And I'm always coming home.


Jumping off cliffs

Into bottomless waters,

Craving the hunt

But ignoring the slaughter,

Whispering riddles

To the reaper's daughter,

And you're always coming home.


But if we could stop the clock…

All the poems in the world,

All the music, all the songs,

Every right and every wrong,

Would not matter anymore.


Shaking the dust

Of an old carnival road,

Stealing the games from the gods

By the truckload,

Making a long, silly rhyme

Using Morse code,

And we're always coming home.


Joyful adventures,

Improbable capers,

Evening strolls,

Breakfast over newspapers,

Travels beyond "here be dragons",

And later

We'll be never coming home.


But if we could wind the clock…

All the monsters in the world,

All the freaks and all the trolls,

Every fool that speaks in tongues,

Would forever bless our love.


Mirrors on the wall,

Certainties you can't recall,

Tales that were so tall,

Would not matter anymore.

I'm your Juliet, I'm your Panzer,

I'm your Shakespeare belly dancer.

I'm your puzzle, I'm your stanza,

I'm your best extravaganza.

I'm the banknote in your pocket,

I'm the captain in your rocket.

I'm your J-man.


I'm your greasy latin lover,

From my kiss you won't recover.

I'm your shellac, undercover,

I'm your alarm clock destroyer.

I'm your hombre with sombrero,

I'm your partner for bolero.

I'm your J-man.


I'm your J-man,

You never know where I come from.

I'm your J-man,

And you needn't need to know.

I'm your J-man,

Coming right before silly K-man.

I'm your J-man, oh, c'mon! Dig it!


I'm your jester, your comedian,

I'm your honest politician.

I'm your Alice, fraught with malice,

And I dwell inside your palace.

I'm your Deutschland über alles,

Your aurora borealis.

I'm your J-man.


I'm yours truly, I'm the ending

In that letter that you sent me.

I'm your lover, most desirous,

I'm your most infectious virus.

I'm the embryo in your matrix,

I'm your humble dominatrix.

I'm your J-man.


I'm your J-man,

And I don't know how to say no.

I'm your J-man, baby,

Around the clock.

I'm your J-man,

Looking for a plug in your metal.

I'm your J-man, baby.

Just say the word.


I'm your liar, I'm you sire,

I'm a useful length of wire.

I'm the brimstone in your fire,

I'm your propaganda flyer.


I'm your player, your pied piper,

I'm your rotten fruit sniper.

I'm the riddle in your fiddle,

And I'm always in the middle.


I'm your nightcap, your lounge lizard,

With your money I'm a wizard.

I'm your blinkered ignoramus,

I'm the trick that made you famous.

Flat top, you turn all around

But you keep, keep falling;

There's no one to stop you, rascal you.

Tick tock,

The clock isn't running anymore;

That means that the nap

Should be working,

Yet you keep running,

Outside of space time,

Where the tick-tick-ticklers

Make you feel like a toy.


Not tonight; when you sleep

All the darkness seems eternal,

But now there's something special.

When you think: "This is it",

That's when you reclaim the power

And climb back to the tower

Of the morning paper…

The headlines are worthless

But your percolator's working

And the coffee keeps you going

Through the day.


Nice job. You made it again,

But your head feels wobbly

And your eyes won't tell you

A single truth.

Flip flop,

The blankets are oceans of delight,

So tempting

You do nothing but surrender

To the soft calling,

A song like a siren's,

Of your soft warm pillow

The best lover around…


All blinds down. All lights out.

It is time for disconnection,

To let your clanky body

Crumple down on your bed.

Oh, to embrace the cosy feathers

Encased in satin covers

That caress your nostrils

With lavender perfume!

Now relax your tired servos;

Let the sandman make his entrance

One more time.

c r e d i t s


pablo chávarri:

  guitars, b. vocals.

& germán ponte:

  keys, robots, vocals.



  jorge lorán'


  eva kirschner


  antonio iglesias


david langford

christopher priest

nate harrison


© 2007 chávarri/ponte

License: BY-NC-ND


carlos de la hoz




=> (madrid)


space weirdo