(no subject)
"I hate my life" thought Neil. This was one of Neils rather frequent thoughts. Indeed, even when he was thinking about some other thought entirely...that thought was about, lurking and waiting, ready to spring at the most inopportune times. In fact Neil could wake up on the most happiest day of the most happiest month in the most happiest year (incidently it's the 11th of March 1952) casually potter around his house as most of us are to do in the morning, just innocently thinking "hmmm toast or cereal.....I hate my life.. oh BUGGER".
Unfortunately today was not the most happiest day of the most happiest month in the most happiest year but Neil was however pottering around in his kitchen. He coughed politely to get the fridges attention and asked if it could arrange something with the stove about breakfast. This was the second problem with most major modern conveniences. Ever since machine intelligence had escaped the restrictions of having to inhabit building sized computers and were easily encoded into a few quantum chips. They had been installed in everything. On the whole it did make things easier but the problem lay in the smaller details of having an intelligent kettle or an intelligent oven. What the creators didn't forsee was the rapant xenophobia felt between different appliances (after all, asking a kettle to accept something so different to itself as a blender is a rather large task. Humans get stuck on things as trivial as colour never mind us trying to come to terms with differences between a heating element and a whisk). Some of the few early adopters were unfortunate enough to came home to see a full scale war fought in their kitchen. The smarter people were quick to capitalise on this and overnight a whole industry of appliance sensitivity counsellors appeared. Luckily Neils appliances all got on rather well and he'd only ever had to call the counsellors in when his old dishwasher had died. the fridge informed him "I figure today you probably feel like bacon eggs..how does that sound?". Neil nodded in agreement and went to walk out of the kitchen but not before the fridge quietly coughed an "ahem". "Yes" said Neil expectantly, to which the fridge replied "I don't suppose I could trouble you for a moment Neil?". "What?" said Neil. "Well...I've had a few spare moments in the last couple of weeks and I've been working on some new poetry and I was wondering if you wanted to hear some?". "No thanks" said Neil as politely as he could and walked out. This was the number one major problem with modern conveniences. In general having an intelligent appliance was much like having a graduate in physics mow your lawn. There was a lot of wasted capacity and so the machine was left largely to its own devices all day. This meant the machines spent their time devising ways to express themselves. Unfortunately a lot of them chose poetry and without the huge existentsial problems humans faced (for them questions like "who am I" and "what is my purpose" are rather easily answered by anyone working in the factory they were made) their poetry tends to be bland and only involve the sort of subject matter related to their function (to this date fridges have written approximately 460 billion "Odes to the Crisper".
Unfortunately today was not the most happiest day of the most happiest month in the most happiest year but Neil was however pottering around in his kitchen. He coughed politely to get the fridges attention and asked if it could arrange something with the stove about breakfast. This was the second problem with most major modern conveniences. Ever since machine intelligence had escaped the restrictions of having to inhabit building sized computers and were easily encoded into a few quantum chips. They had been installed in everything. On the whole it did make things easier but the problem lay in the smaller details of having an intelligent kettle or an intelligent oven. What the creators didn't forsee was the rapant xenophobia felt between different appliances (after all, asking a kettle to accept something so different to itself as a blender is a rather large task. Humans get stuck on things as trivial as colour never mind us trying to come to terms with differences between a heating element and a whisk). Some of the few early adopters were unfortunate enough to came home to see a full scale war fought in their kitchen. The smarter people were quick to capitalise on this and overnight a whole industry of appliance sensitivity counsellors appeared. Luckily Neils appliances all got on rather well and he'd only ever had to call the counsellors in when his old dishwasher had died. the fridge informed him "I figure today you probably feel like bacon eggs..how does that sound?". Neil nodded in agreement and went to walk out of the kitchen but not before the fridge quietly coughed an "ahem". "Yes" said Neil expectantly, to which the fridge replied "I don't suppose I could trouble you for a moment Neil?". "What?" said Neil. "Well...I've had a few spare moments in the last couple of weeks and I've been working on some new poetry and I was wondering if you wanted to hear some?". "No thanks" said Neil as politely as he could and walked out. This was the number one major problem with modern conveniences. In general having an intelligent appliance was much like having a graduate in physics mow your lawn. There was a lot of wasted capacity and so the machine was left largely to its own devices all day. This meant the machines spent their time devising ways to express themselves. Unfortunately a lot of them chose poetry and without the huge existentsial problems humans faced (for them questions like "who am I" and "what is my purpose" are rather easily answered by anyone working in the factory they were made) their poetry tends to be bland and only involve the sort of subject matter related to their function (to this date fridges have written approximately 460 billion "Odes to the Crisper".