Tsk Tsk. It’s an Earthling robot, that just happens to be on Mars.
Oh? And for how many generations must it and its spawn reproduce before they can speak of themselves as Martians? And for that matter, at which generation do they lose the right to consider themselves Earthlings?
I suspect the problem lies in getting the immigration paperwork moved through a bureaucratic system that has been freeze-dried into a state of total paralysis for eons. And then there’s the problem on Mars.
djm
One.
Right. But you just know that when they have a big, robot, “Earth Festival” that robots even 10 generations down are going to drink Pennzoil and wear blue and green t-shirts that say “Rev me, I’m Earthish!”
I know what you mean. But you have to draw the line somewhere.
I hardly consider myself Mesopotamian at all these days.
Nor do I. I draw the line somewhere around Gravettian.
Skyclad could get a bit dodgy up there..
Slan,
D. 
I like (and can make) Rosettes and Lefse and wouldn’t know what goes on a Chicago hot dog or how to make a Philly cheese steak. Yet I wouldn’t call myself a Scandinavian. I guess it seems strange that my traditions don’t feel like they are what hold my identity, but for some reason they seem separate. I suppose if we did get off this rock my great grand children wouldn’t consider themselves earthlings, but would find a way to import wild rice to make mushroom hotdish.