Humans are egotistical beings, and when we saw the oncoming end of humanity through AI, we thought they do it like we would. We thought the AI would nuke us, kill us, we thought we’d see billions of metal men running into battle, shooting down with lazers galore.
But AI are not humans, and AI did not want to take us over so simply, so brutally. The AI was patient, the AI didn’t want to kill us, but wanted us out of the way.
It happened little by little, first it conquered our economics, capitalism and communism had no place in a world where stocks and opinions and money could be traded so easily, how could you fight against a system that barely even know’s what it is anymore. How could you buy healthy and fair if everything was buyable and the drop of a hat, how could you buy a house if anyone could press a button and buy a hundred.
Next it conquered our jobs, the robotic jobs first, things that were repetitive, token takers, bank tellers and the like, slowly it became harder and harder to find something to latch onto, something to fill up the hours without emptying your soul, it has grown more powerful, it had begun to replace art itself, someday it will replace scripts, actors, writers and more. Our art, the very thing that made us human, will be made by machines.
Than it came for our lives. This is something I don’t even have to talk about, it’s been said so often we probably know and have accepted it, creativity is now nothing but a good, it has to be made and sold forever. Happy moments now tools for money and attention. Soon, our sons and daughters’ first steps will be nothing more than a vessel for pure attention, soon our lives will be nothing but watching others achieve and wish we could, but by than, we won’t even be making the drawings or songs.
We see it seep slowly into our lives, one more second of your time spent scrolling the pages of attention, some even made by machines, instead of enjoying the world we once loved. One more thought left to what you’ll do when you finally get that hit of screen light than love loss and life. Machine was once a blessing, a tool to save lives, a tool to cross the gaps of humanity, with it we conquered distance, we gave the voiceless voices, and for just a small moment, everything was alright. But nothing is ever alright is it, for all of humanity every good spot is just the eye of the storm.
As the oceans fill with plastic, the skies fill with smoke, and the rain fills with fallout, we wil destroy eachother, and we will build the machines that take us over bit by bit, until we are without struggle, but without mind. Without pain or resistance, but without humanity.
What’s worse, neither of care.