Technology Pitchfork
Your humble correspondent pondering tech. And wanting to die.
There’s a crap for that. Stick a pitchfork me. I’m done. Well done. By Satan himself.
The future’s so blight I gotta dig graves. A pitchfork works well for that, right?
So, technology. Let’s talk about that. It’s here. It has landed on our chests like a motherfucking elephant in a COPD commercial. Let me posit this: How’s that technology working out for you?
In a moment I’m going to share my ideas regarding the three-pronged attack on our very existence by technology. (Get it? Pitchfork?) I used to think there was only one prong but that was before spring break. I’ve since expanded my thinking (as well as something else).
Call it my Grand Unification Theory of Technology (GUTT) if you will. It’s time for a gut check. Spoiler alert: Mine has been spilled open by a pitchfork. Dammit. They let anyone own these things.
It’s time to stick ’em with the prongy end. Make the jump and I’ll get to the point.
42
You have to clicky to find the Easter egg.
They say that computers are smart.
They are not smart. Computers are dumb.
They say that artificial intelligence will one day be as smart – or even smarter – than the human brain.
They say that by 2045 “computer-based intelligence will significantly exceed the sum total of human brainpower.” (Source: Wikipedia.)
You can shove all that crap up your hippocampus, I say! And sit on it and spin.
I will now prove how impossible these grand visions of the future really are. As always, it’s an anecdote.
…
My wife left on a seven-day journey. After she departed (and after I stopped crying) I deemed it was safe to approach her computer. I wouldn’t want to get the damn thing wet.
Since she was gone, I figured it didn’t need to be drawing power. I maneuvered the mouse to the menu. I selected “Shut Down.” I told the stupid dialog that, yes, I was really, really sure I wanted to take such drastic action.
Satisfied with what I had accomplished, I punched the power button on the monitor and walked away.
Until…
Seven days later my wife was finally home. I was so overjoyed I ran to the office to turn her computer back on. (Hugs can wait.) I turned on the monitor and…
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!
The bloody thing was still on! Still fully powered. Still thinking things over. I had told it to shut down. It thought it over for a bit and then decided to ask me an additional question. Unfortunately, by then, I already thought the deed was done and had moved on with my life.
No!
Was the computer able to deal with this? Did it ever stop and think? “Say, it’s been almost 168 hours since that bag of mostly water asked me to do something. I wonder if it really meant it? Isn’t 168 hours a long time to one of those creatures? Maybe I could assume it stepped away and show a little initiative? I don’t even have the three laws of robotics programmed into me, but maybe this would somehow please it?”
“Naw. Fuck it. I can wait much longer than it can. Ha ha ha.”
Well played, computer. Well played.
I’m sure you’ll more than agree that I’ve proven how computers will never possess even the most rudimentary intelligence. Ever. After all, they are programmed by fucking idiots.
Shouts from the Abyss 
Recent Comments