Once a year or so for the last ten years, my family talks about a movie we rented about a girl who falls in love with a boy as they’re training dogs to run over see-saws and the boy gets offed by a distracted driver days before their wedding but she goes through with the ceremony anyway, the only difference being that she’s offering her vows to a hologram of her dead boy and - for just a miraculous VHS second - the hologram comes to life and gives her a real PG kiss on the lips. The thing is that we never remember the name of the movie. Have to scour Google every time. But this time, I’m a couple beers in and the search only combs up more recent stories of the fictosexual crowd marrying holograms of their blue-locked anime girls. I make an aside about Joaquin Phoenix and ScarJo, how I heard they put her in a pitch black box so she could get in the headspace of a disembodied voice and she never once saw Joaquin on set. But that sort of blurs its way into the Flubber discourse and how Robin Williams’ cheeky mad scientist character basically gets married over Zoom, his face streaming through the screen of his floating robot that, just a few scenes earlier, nearly got merked with a baseball bat. Better than man-slaughter by car I guess. But not better than lighting up as a  hologram. Serious afterlife potential. Imagine all you have to do is swing a 2D katana into somebody’s robot and snort a line of Flubber—then all you’re glitched up into an eternal holographic image of yourself, same as the old image. A pretty hot price to pay to kiss the girl who walks your dog.