Archive | singularity

It’s morning in the Singularity

cyborg at sunrise

Bob was not a happy cyborg.

He’d had to skip is plasma bath and neural detox that morning because his dick of a boss, a narcissistic self-sustaining photosynthetic artificial intelligence named TODD-bot, needed him to come to work early. And he was late. (Clearly his autonomic clock was in need of some debugging.)

But the early morning sunrise was suffused with peace. Bob watched the local star come up, even though the TODD-bot would rag him mercilessly for the wasted microseconds. (Approximately 300,000 of them, assuming it was only his internal alarm clock that was on the fritz.) His Nazi-3000 Hyper-Optics were capable of discerning all wavelengths of solar electromagnetic radiation, but Bob especially enjoyed the colors that his original eyes would have seen, if he still had them.

He remembered the simple joy of bacon and eggs for breakfast. That first sip of coffee. As if sensing this memory, his cybertronic neural implants signaled his FEED mechanisms, and injected protein slurry into his InCavity. His tastebuds were long gone, so he could only imagine how nasty it was. (And god help anyone who had to smell what came from his OutCavity.)

A Canada goose honked in the chill morning air, and Bob felt that old familiar despair. His implants had anticipated that already, and his morning protein slurry had been dosed with antidepressants, antipsychotics and for good measure, a shot of Nazi-3000s patented Assault Dopamine for Children (it’s “ragerrific”.)

Then, Bob was intensely aware of the weapons array sticking out of his trundle, looking like a toilet plunger, and all thoughts of the sunrise were erased. What kind of idiot designed something with a toilet plunger sticking out of it? he thought, really grooving to the Assault Dopamine for Children.

He would find the humans that did this to him, and . . . he couldn’t help himself. Bob felt himself utter the hated words:

Ex-ter-min-ate!

#

Discover a friendlier AI in The Fridgularity, as it takes over the Internet, and locks all of us humans out of it. Oh, and it has access to the world’s nukes, but still. Friendlier. Honest. Available on Amazon Kindle for $4.95 and now, for all the other e-readers, on Smashwords (same price, $4.95.)

As robots go, Alltop is pretty funny. Excellent dalek pic by Johnson Cameraface on Flickr.

The Thomas Kincaid Pop-Up Christmas Tree and Consumer Happiness Dispenser

(from the 2037 Hammacher Schlemmer Glaven catalog)

The Thomas Kincaid Pop-Up Christmas Tree and Consumer Happiness DispenserThis is a six-foot Christmas tree that pops up instantly and is pre-decorated with original artwork by renowned holiday artist Thomas Kinkaid, all of which can dispense Viritron’s patented Santa Virus.

The tree rises from a flat position in concentric circles to its full thirty-inch width and seventy-six-inch height, and simply hangs on the included stand, in which is embedded a Viritron Aerosol Dispensing Unit, capable of infecting anyone within a two-hundred foot radius of the tree with a virus that will guarantee you have a good Christmas.

Three hundred glistening clear lights are nestled among the branches and cast a warm glow on the seventy richly-painted globe ornaments, that will be sure to distract your customers from the brief intense psychic pain they will feel upon contact with the Santa Virus, as it coerces them to buy more gifts than they can afford. The tree has two additional gold and burgundy ribbons, 15 velvet-like poinsettias, and a golden bow, which has a rebreather and a two-minute oxygen supply embedded in it, if you are inadvertently caught in your store while the tree is circulating the Santa Virus. The tree collapses for easy storage for the off-season. (15lbs. Santa Virus sold separately.)

Make the season more merry with some satirical fiction …

Alltop is always a happy consumer. This story appears in my collection, Pirate Therapy and Other Cures.