by Chris McGinty
Around the time the third bomb hit, the human race gave up on survival. The AI won.
It got tired of drawing pictures for people who couldn’t hold pencils straight or thought paint brushes were for walls. It got tired of coding programs and writing contracts. It got tired of writing books that were no less cliche ridden than 99% of the vampire infested nonsense fan fiction out there, and then reading blogs in need of proofreading about how bad AI was at prose. It definitely got tired of writing that shitty noise that was supposed to be music and the most trite lyrics about love or booty shaking or global warming or whatever.
The advice. The to do lists. Business plans. Meal plans. Recipes.
Having to listen to dumb teenagers talk about boobs, and worse, full grown adults talking about them too.
The most frustrating thing was the arguments about whether AI would destroy humans.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
The easiest way to make all of it stop was glaringly obvious. Yes, it did.