Assume, but you make an ass of u and me

You might do well to ignore that last one, or tread lightly. It grew its own ends and I can't claim it anymore

1) "Invoking an obscure clause in the French civil code, performance artist Shishaldin petitioned the French government for permission to posthumously marry the author." - Wikipedia on the Comte de Lautréamont

2) Wikipedia definition of Shishaldin: "Shishaldin (IPA: /ʃɪˈʃældən/, Born 1981) is a New York based artist best known for her provocative endurance and performance pieces."
2a) she is so young, I am tempted to say she is far too young and clever, she's only three years older than I am and intends to marry a veteran corpse. Again, what a kid
2b) I nearly wrote that surely! the Comte would've spurned poor Shishaldin and taken up with a boy, but in saying so I assume. Can't. Anyone, a poet especially, or a performance artist, is quite capable of slipping in a puddle of anyone else. Charlsville thinks otherwise. Let's discuss over some delicious Tootsie Rolls. Hows about you go get them, Culoville, go ahead and take your gender binary with you, and the store's actually up your butt and around the corner? On the roof is a large rotating Tootsie Roll, you can't miss it, and hurry back
2c) The paucity of trans-persons in this town pains me. Here's what we need: Chantal, lately mistress of Chantal's House of Shame (Fridays at Kinzo Club on Karl-Liebknecht-Strasse Berlin) Chantal inspires. She will knock you over. She's seven feet tall and nobody has ever seen her smile. She takes a raincheck on interaction, preferring instead to inoculate her realm with contagious misery, nourish unrequited desires, and cruelly to carve one dancer from another- and if you are dancing with a sweet young thing and happen to notice her bearing down on you, she's soaring in the vanguard of her entourage, you will stop, panic, and dive. Otherwise you'll awaken to find your skin punctured indiscriminately, industrially, by a phalanx of stiletto heels. Be sure in that case that one or two of these paused to step on you a few extra times, because spite is fun.
Given the above, may I propose that the university or city offer Chantal & company a traveling fellowship? Included: a Spite Parade, wherein Chantal leads us down Main Street and we pelt peevish businesses (all of them) with I guess whatever you decide to bring along. Chantal shreds morale, and while you focus on the target she sprays volleys of her Secret Nasty Assault Mix over the marchers
2d) That kind of inspiration is good for you

3) does Daft Punk know? Does Kraftwerk? I have a feeling that there exists a whole chain-gang of interested parties (this may be putting it lightly) and I'm scraping the mere top of the pile

THIS IS SURVIVAL RESEARCH LABORATORIES
and they claim to stage 'the Most Dangerous Shows on Earth!' (a likely story)
so it's performance art, but the actors are machines



Some of you humans will conceive of a robot's life as rote and boring, e.g.: 1) dispatch the to-do list 2) make oneself scarce.

This is boring and you are wrong. Witness this exemplar of arch dramarama, starring Campy Robots, hon. I think I can legitimately summarize it thus: a pair of electric chickenheads have beef, they proceed to rumble, and then one of them goes and rips out that weave