Japan's first robot astronaut is both useful and adorable

At just 13 inches tall, cheery-faced Kirobo is designed to help astronauts cope with loneliness during missions.

It's not quite as good as being able to take a pet dog or cat into orbit, but Kirobo - 13 inches tall, weighing 2kg - is a pretty good alternative. He went up to the ISS on a Japanese resupply mission in August, but is only beginning his research mission today.

He - well, "it" if we're being accurate - isn't meant to help astronauts with technical tasks, or carry out his own spacewalks. He's an emotional resource. Space can be lonely, and having someone to talk to can be comforting.

Voice and face recognition combined with natural language processing give him the ability to converse with humans. His name is a merger of "kibo" - "hope in Japanese, and the name of the nation's research module on the ISS - and robot.

While he flew up to the ISS in August, he's only being joined today by Japanese astronaut Koichi Wakata, who originally trained Kirobo to speak. Wakata is part of a three-man crew launching from Kazakhstan, and when he arrives he'll enjoy the distinction of two new records - the first astronaut to chat with a robot in space, and the ISS's first Japanese commander.

But of course you actually want to see Kirobo in action, so here he is:

Kirobo's mission will end in December 2014, when he'll return to Earth. When humans travel to Mars, data on how to cope in isolation for long periods is going to be essential for keeping astronauts emotionally stable - and, unlike 2001: A Space Odyssey's HAL, Kirobo may prove a friendlier model of companion.

Kirobo, bringing joy to the lonely on the ISS. (Photo: Kibo Robot Project)

Ian Steadman is a staff science and technology writer at the New Statesman. He is on Twitter as @iansteadman.

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The art of the YouTube Poop

What are YouTube Poops and why do we need them now, more than ever?

“The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?”

So, allegedly, said Pablo Picasso in a shrewd attempt to justify his love of putting noses where noses don’t actually go. It is imperative that you now hold this profound quotation firmly in your mind whilst you watch this four minutes and 57 second long clip of Arthur – the cartoon aardvark – being tormented by squirrels.

What you have just seen is an example of the art form primarily known as “YouTube Poop” (YTP). Beginning in the early Noughties, this cultural movement is characterised by confusing and shocking edits of Saturday-morning cartoons, video games, and viral videos. Though the Tens have seen the genre decline in popularity, the YTP is, nonetheless, one of the defining innovations of our era.

Those in the Poop community don’t actually like being labelled as artists, as one Yale student found out when he attempted to define them as such on the University’s technology blog. Though they have been compared to Dadaism, YTPs are more vile, violent, and most importantly, nonsensical than most artworks, but this is precisely why they are an asset to our age. In a world where – sorry Pablo, you got nothing on us – absolutely zero things makes sense, it is time for the YTP to have a comeback.

Despite its seeming randomness, the world of YTP is not without its rules. “Poopisms” are the common techniques and tricks used in videos to ensure they qualify as a true Poop. They include “stutter loops” (the repetition of clips over and over), “staredowns” (freezing the frame on a particular facial expression), and the questionably-named “ear rape” (suddenly increasing the volume to shock the viewer). One of the most humorous techniques is “sentence mixing”: forcing characters to say new sentences by cutting and splicing things they have said.

There are also firm rules about what not to do. Panning across a clip without adding another Poopism at the same time is considered boring, whilst using your own voice to dub clips is seen as amateur. By far the biggest barrier that Poopers* face in creating their videos, however, is the law.

Despite what many eight-year-olds on YouTube think, declaring that something is a “parody” in the description of a video does not make it exempt from copyright laws. The video below – regarded by at least two commenters as “the best YouTube Poop” ever – is missing audio 20 minutes in, as the creator was hit by a copyright claim.

Yet even the iron fist of the law cannot truly stop Poopers, who are still going (relatively) strong after the first YTP was created in 2004. YouTube Poops now even have their own Wikipedia page, as well as a page on TV Tropes and a WikiHow guide on how to create them, and for good measure, avoid them.

YouTube Poops have therefore undoubtedly secured their place in history, and whilst you might wander into a comment section to declare “What have I just watched?”, remember that Pablo Picasso once said: “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” He almost definitely wasn’t talking about “You are a Sad Strange Little Man” by cartoonlover98, but still.

* The term “Poopists” was rejected by the community for being “too arty”.

 

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.