Relics

Actually, what I think this is about is not some question of whether machines have consciousness but attachment to the "relics" of our past and the anthropomorphism a lonely kid will engage in. For those of us in the generation where handheld electronic games were first introduced, we still had to exercise our imaginations quite a lot since the limited technology didn't exactly create an immersive atmosphere with their little moving dots. I think we also carried over that feeling of closeness we once had with our stuffed animals, a favorite pillow, an imaginary friend--whatever came to life for us as small children--and we put it in our new, more "grown-up" toys. When you wonder at the end if turning them on will make them happy, it sounds to me like you're wondering if it'll make you happy; almost like you're searching for your own button, the one that could wake you up, make you feel alive, and, perhaps, give you a sense of purpose. A machine that's never turned on has no reason for being, and in a metaphorical way you seem to be exploring the same idea for yourself, asking: "Have I become a relic?"

I could be reading way too much into it though, ha. I hope maybe I've understood some of your intention.