Who’s your favorite robot of all time? There's plucky R2-D2 from Star Wars, always ready with an insult for his befuddled companion C-3PO. Or the Terminator, a killing machine humanized by Arnold Schwarzenegger’s muscled thumb. How about Data from Star Trek, the machine who wants to be more human through the power of disgusting drinks? Dalek, the Iron Giant, Bender, the Cylons, HK-47, Dot Matrix, Optimus Prime, Mega Man ... the list of greats is so long we need one of their positronic brains to help us organize it. In this installment of Future of the Past, I'll look under the skin of one of the earliest androids—even before the term android became popularized in the late 1800s. “Android” comes from the combination of the Greek prefix ander- meaning “man,” (as in male person) and -droid, meaning “have the form or likeness of.” Looks like a man. Sorry ladies. The word "robot" came along later in the 1920s, derived from the Czech word robotnik, meaning "forced worker." Not to be confused with Sonic the Hedgehog's arch nemesis, Dr. Robotnik. I wonder if the name made the man, considering his evil plan included turning animals into robots. His parents really railroaded him there. But I digress. While many ancient myths speak of creatures brought to life through magical or divine intervention, mechanical, human-like constructions were less common. So where does this idea of artificial humanoids come from? Many of us might sling our index fingers toward early science fiction pioneers like Isaac Asimov, who devised the three laws of robotics. Which were something about robots having to be sexy, homicidal, or hilarious. That's three, yeah? Well ... those might not be entirely accurate. You can find the real ones here. No one disputes Asimov's influence when it comes to peopleish robots, but, as the theme of this series suggests, we're going to jump back much further in search of android origin stories.
Nearly 3000 Years Ago ... The time is ancient, and the place is Crete, an island in the Mediterranean and—more importantly—a stash pad for (one of) Zeus’ consorts, Europa. She landed this all-expenses-paid abduction when Zeus transformed into a bull, waited for her to mount, then swam to the island. I know, Greek myths are all sorts of messed up. To stop any would-be invaders from getting up in his *ahem* bidness, Zeus needs a guardian for Crete. Of course he turns to Hephaestus, the Greek god of blacksmithing, maker of automatons, employer of golden umpa lumpas, and ugliest of the pantheon—the last one's not a relevant point, I suppose.
So which callous, egocentric jackass fells our brave defender? None other than Jason, of Jason and the Argonauts fame. This hero, heroing away without regard to who he steps on to make a name for himself, comes upon Crete. Jason's lover Medea—who's also a witch—tricks (or drugs, depending on the version) Talos into allowing her to remove the bolt holding in his ichor (read, motor oil). His life force drains away “like molten lead,” and boom! I assume it made a loud “booming” sound when he keeled over. On a side note, the bolt was located in Talos’ heel, a weakness similar to Achilles, thus confirming the ancient Greeks’ foot fetish. So one of our first androids, a predecessor to all the snarky, funny, empathetic, badass creations to follow, was little more than a glorified security guard. I believe, deep down, he had ambitions, dreams, goals. To open his own ice cream shop, maybe. I know this was before ice cream, or refrigeration, but who knows what amazing things Talos could’ve come up with, given better employment opportunities? Nathaniel Henderson is an author currently working on a cyberpunk-injected book series. For updates and exclusive content, sign up for his newsletter.
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