October 30 2009 / by Jason / In association with Future Blogger.net
Category: Information Year: Beyond Rating: 5 Hot
By Jason M. Vaughn
Citizens of the late-2009 Earth
Pardon my husky voice. It’s dusty here, or I’ve got a Supercold and the future’s all out of throat lozenges; take your pick.
I realize that many of you are thrilled about a possibly-imminent Singularity. I realize this because the young me is among you right now. Anyway, that Singularity sounds pretty cool, doesn’t it? Well, it could be, but please heed this warning: If you don’t take certain precautions, your cool Singularity could get damn nasty; and I mean five-stories-tall-robots nasty and scary-robot-motorcycles nasty and ruggedly-handsome-robot-human-hybrids-who-steal-a-movie-right-out-from-under-you nasty. And do I really need to mention the dust problem again, or the Supercolds…
…and the unfortunate lack of throat lozenges around here?
Right—so I’ve got your attention then? Good. Because I believe there’s a way for you to change things.
The robots being envisioned right now (in your time and the young me’s time: our time?) must be implemented with a need to protect humans. “What for?” you say. “These things are just gonna clean my kitchen.” Well, they may clean your kitchen, buddy, but then they’ll clean your clock. And when I say ‘clock,’ I don’t mean a grandfather clock or something; I’m talking about—ah, never mind.
Remember that Whitney Houston song about how the children are our future? Well, you guys need to feed that message into your pre-AI robots. Don’t make them sing it. Please. Just make them understand that we’re the children (the future), and that they (the robots) are those who need to teach us well and let us lead the way. Of course, to teach us well, we (meaning you) first have to teach them well: to make them the “children” so that we can one day be the children. Confused? Me, too…. Okay, I got it now. Whatever you teach them, they should come to think of us as delicate loved-ones who need to be nourished and protected and—in all the important, non-hazardous respects—made better, stronger, faster…because it would be cool to be able to jump over a really high wall.
Take my word for it: If you don’t germinate within the coming robots a need to save us, you’ll be sorry; and there will be dust everywhere and your throats will suffer until you actually begin to believe that guttural voices are the sexiest voices.
Anyway, I’ve gotta go now; the perimeter dogs are barking. Just know that, if you’re receiving this…
[clears throat, hard]
…you could be a resistance: a resistance before the main resistance which is my resistance: a resistance that may, through its actions, negate the need for my resistance or even the word resistance and, consequently, put my sexy, sexy voice out of a job.
[hawks and then spits, then clears throat again, then suddenly throws up…a lot]
This is John Connor, signing off.