Mr President:

 

Salutations. My name is Jerry Glass. This letter marks as the twelfth letter I’ve written to you in the past year. Happy Anniversary! Aren’t you excited? I’m sure that you are…

 

My only hope, Mr President, is that this time, you will come to your senses, that this time, you will respond, because do trust, Mr President, that should you decide not to honor this most basic law of common courtesy, then do trust, Mr President, that I will not waiver — I shall not falter — I will not, be intimidated — I will, continue my streak. Our regular check-ins, Mr President, will proceed as they have — one letter per month — guaranteed — just as clocks do tick, Mr President, just as clocks do tick.

 

Now. Now that that is out of the way. In the interest of off-chances, Mr President, those of which being that, somehow, for whatever improbable reasons you had in fact not received my prior eleven letters — IF, that is the case, which I personally highly doubt is the case, BUT — just to play devil’s advocate, as that, I am, after all, a reasonable person, so here’s to some of that, crime lover’s benefit of the doubt, Mr President — why the Hell not — you may have it!

 

Now. As I was saying. As you SHOULD ALREADY KNOW, Mr President, I am the acting vice president of the Colton, Oklahoma, chapter of the Anti-Robotics Movement of America. I write to you ENTIRELY with this regard. Now, I know, that you have not made your position yet known on anti-robotics. Indeed, the movement is but still in infant stages. However, as I will propose, Mr President, that this means now is the best time for you to make your strike. Indeed, anti-robotics is known as neither partisan nor bipartisan (yet, Mr President) — Indeed, my own chapter’s membership composes of an eclectic bunch. For example, on Thursday’s, Tom Garrison will show up to our meetings. Tom Garrison, Mr President, is a registered independent voter. Yes, you read that correctly. Tom Garrison is politically neutral. Perhaps you understand already just exactly what I am getting at, Mr President. Indeed, now is the time to strike. Indeed.

 

We at the Colton chapter have kept our eyes on you, Mr President. We see your winks during your speeches. We notice when you scratch your nose. We acknowledge that you look to your left just before you drop your little hints. Yes, we are keen to your nonverbal jargon. Samantha Greenbow, our secretary, has compiled much data on you, on this very specific matter. Yes she has. I’ve read the spreadsheets. It’s all very quite sophisticated, Mr President, it really, really is. Indeed. See, we know where you stand. So, even if you deny it, we know that your nightmares scream only two words: judgment day.

 

Now, I may not be some big, fancy politician, Mr — PRESIDENT — I am, alas, only but a vice president. However, I ran my campaign, just as you had. I understand that politics is a dirty game. It is difficult — under that spotlight, that, oh so scrutinizing spotlight — all the eyes on you, am I right? That wasn’t a question — I know how it goes. People twist your words. It’s tough to keep your priorities in order when the agenda is a living, breathing document that, Samantha cannot stop writing in for the life of her. But regardless, while I congratulate you on achieving your second term, I will inform you that I’m four-times elected to my position. So, while it is so that our respective authorities are not so on my par, in terms of experience, however, I am in fact vastly superior to you. You have yet to complete even two terms, and yet I, Mr President, am just hitting my prime in term numero cinco — so, for what it’s worth. Also, I’ll have you know, that four years ago, for about a month’s  time, while our then President Richard Cutterhouser was sick with the flu, I had assumed his duties.

 

Anyway, semantics aside. Now that we understand each other. Now that you understand the level of the man I am — the man whom I expect you will WRITE BACK TO — as in to me, myself, Jerry Glass. Easy name to remember, Mr President. And, remember this, as well: not only are we equals, Mr President, but as you observed, in reading above, I edge you out on experience. So, in fact, we do not actually look each other eye-to-eye — I look eyes-to-forehead with you, and you look eyes-to-cheekbones with me, and that’s just how it is. That’s just how it goes. So, should we ever encounter, Mr President, do trust that this will happen naturally, as but a simple reaction — you will submit to the obvious edge I hold on you, whether you wish to or not.

 

Now. I want you to write me back. I grant you with three weeks in which to do so. Three weeks and not an hour more. In your letter, I want you to start with a brief apology (I assure you, this apology will not be made in vain — I am not setting you up — I assure you, your apology will be accepted, but I MUST, however, receive an apology). From thereafter, you are free to write your letter as however your wish. However, I want you to address your position on three points specifically:

 

1. Robots in the American workforce (i.e. robots and manual labor)

2. Robots as teachers (is it good? theoretically, computers are smart–but, then again…)

3. Robotic engineering as it pertains to robotic physical strength (overlaps with point one)

 

Point three is the most pressing issue we face. It is frightening to think of what super robots might be capable of — with their rigid clamps and stout steel frame bodies — hydraulic limbs, and nuclear powered hearts. And, of course, the ability of robots to travel through time. Indeed. It is most frightening. Much as my fingers do tremble in typing this sentence.

 

Three weeks, Mr President. Three weeks.

Most sincerely,

Jerry Dillamon Glass,

Vice President, Ati-Robotics Movement of America, Colton Oklahoma chapter