"I'm solving all your legal problems!" he told me with a proud grin.
"Thanks," I said, trying to be nice. I wanted to ask how, but didn't want to hurt his feelings by sounding skeptical.
"In this day and age, it's more efficient to build a robot lawyer than to hire an existing lawyer," he explained, bolting a tie into place.
That was the most inane thing I ever heard.
"I'm skeptical," I said gently.
"Because you're worried that I don't know anything about law, right? So how could I program a robot lawyer? Well, don't worry. I designed the robot to be possessed by the ghost of a famous dead lawyer! You will have the best legal representation evar!"
I had visions of the court scene that would come up, and couldn't help but to wince.
"Think of it this way," said my neighbor, who was genuinely trying to be helpful, "I think we can agree that our caveman ancestors were perfectly in tune with nature, and obeyed their intrinsic evolutionary impulses, right? So therefore they were perfect and everything they did was healthy and ideal. And we should be more like cavemen in everything we do."
"That's a very interesting theory," I said.
"I'm glad you agree. The cavemen didn't have lawyers. When they had a problem they would solve it by building tools and calling on spirits. So that must be the best way to fix your legal problems."
"No, thank you," I said as gently as I could, and walked away, trying to ignore his sudden burst of profanity.