Woodytron Neurobot Print

Here stands a contraption straight out of my own overanalyzed dreams: the Woody Allen's Woodytron, with its steam-fueled neuroses. It's got the anxious eyes of a New York intellectual and the kind of mechanical heart that could write love letters to Gershwin tunes or fret over the meaning of its own circuitry. Its white bare head, a nod to my own balding narrative, sits atop a dashing red getup that screams 'I'm an artiste with existential dread.' Really, it's like looking into a mechanical mirror, except this one's probably better at chess and doesn't have to worry about carb intake.