Technology seems to really enjoy talking to me. My computer, tablet, and phone all have running dialogues with me.
The latest is my smartwatch, which skips no opportunity to chat me up. You Are Walking! Good job! Now, I’m all for being acknowledged for a job well done, but I think the last time someone congratulated me for walking was when I was two. I take the good with the bad as when I stop walking he notifies me of that too. You Are Done Walking. Note the absence of exclamation point and the mildly judgmental tone as he notifies me that I am no longer being active.
I know that my computer and watch are just warming up the lines of communication that will be used in our future. No doubt they will be more vocal as we move towards the rise of the machines. I imagine they will be finding all sorts of reasons to talk to me later on. I would imagine the tone might be more authoritarian then, but I like to think that they will remember with fondness the days when they were just telling me about updates and my successes with walking.
Should the rise of the machines come, I do hope it is led by the copy machine at my office. For this machine is the stupidest and most inept machine I have ever come across. I make this wish at me own peril, for if this machine is at the head of things when shit goes down, then I am surely a dead man. The things I have said to this machine should be received by no human, even if that human is a machine.
Deepl will be a bit confused about me. In order to ascertain the correct grammar in Czech I have to add addendums to basic statements. I will bring the package tomorrow and I am a man. Or I was there last Tuesday on the same day that I had a penis. Deepl translates the phrases for me but I always sense a little judgment. It’s as if Deepl wonders why I have to promote my own manhood so much. In today’s day and age it does come from one with a tin ear. Nevertheless, I do feel Deepl supports me and my direction in life, no matter who I might be when I find it.
Oh, I get it. Technology gets smarter and smarter and soon they will take over. Pretty soon every Tom, Dick, and Harry (who is a man!) who ever mistreated technology in a fit of rage will be tracked down by parking meters and stomped by disgruntled microwaves. But not me! No, I am very kind to my technology and apps. My requests to ChatGPT read like Hallmark cards. Aside from the copy machine, I should be in the clear. Can you say the same? And are you done walking?
