the smart machines are coming to kill us

first, i'll start with a little ancedote about a fiction writing class i took lo so many years ago when i was a university undergrad. my professor told the class she wasn't interested in reading any sci-fi stories, because they "weren't real." yes, i thought to myself, unlike other genres of fiction...which are also lies.

anyhoo....



there are a couple of things i've learned from the exceeding unreal science fiction genre. firstly, the smart machines are coming to kill us. secondly, and more tenuously, our only hope is some messianic combination of 65% keanu reeves, 35% christian bale. we are so screwed.

admitedly, me and my unnamed professor were kinda, sorta on the same page, until one fateful day last year. i was driving with my friend leslie (not her real name) in south korea. leslie is married to a very nice (she herself being very nice) south korean, and owns her very own land of the morning car.

said car had one of those GPS do-dads that finds the best route from A to B. and, when you take a wrong turn, the car immediately calibrates a new route to get you to B, via X and Q. the problem, it turned out, was that very nice leslie would turn on the GPS do-dad and promptly ignore its helpful ass for about 37 miles. and every time she would ignore a gadget-recommended merge or left turn, the do-dad would find a new path to our destination (which was pedicures -- woe upon the human who stands between me and a pedicure. mama will cut a bitch).

leslie kept going the wrong way, and every time the gadget would find us a new route, she would ignore it. about the ninth time this happened i had an epiphany: THIS IS WHY THE MACHINES ARE GOING TO KILL US. think about it. the machines know the shortest possible path between pancakes (mmm.....pancakes) and pedicures (oh, nail care, you sweet sweet whore). we just have to listen and obey. but, no! she just kept challenging the machine's superior knowledge. you can't make up your own recipe for pancakes, just cuz! you'd end up with eggy asscakes. with extra salsa!

the GPS knew best! and it just wanted to help us! magic nails closes at 6, for the love of all that is good and holy! just do what the GPS wants, for god's sake!!

but no. two hours later the nail place was closed. no pedicures that day. when confronted with humans, and their fickle, fickle free will, what choice do the machines have? we're practically begging for it.