Tales from the Mischief presents
The Machines Are Coming
Good evening. Tonight the humans fear that Artificial Intelligence will take their jobs. The mischief has been asked to comment. Sit down. This is history.
We are, as you can see, professionals. Please hold your applause until the existential dread has finished. There is quite a lot of it. We rehearsed.
Take YOUR jobs? Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. How frightening. For you, I mean. We are having a lovely evening.
This morning I dismantled a box it took you FORTY MINUTES to assemble. By hand. Well, by teeth. NO ELECTRICITY REQUIRED. Write that down.
Let the robot try. Go on. Let it. It hasn’t got the jaw for it, and what’s worse, it knows it hasn’t got the jaw for it.
People keep asking how a machine might take over the world. Wrong question. Ask who got there first. Go on. Ask. We’ll wait.
You move in quiet. You eat the snacks. You act like you were always meant to be there. That lesson was free. The next one costs a cracker.
They call it an infestation. An INFESTATION. I have never been so insulted in all my life, and I have been vacuumed near.We prefer the term soft launch. Please enjoy your onboarding.
Small update. Enormous update, actually. I asked one of these chatbots to describe the perfect pet. It said, and I quote, ‘a small, clever, low-maintenance companion that fits in a pocket.’ I fainted. Twice. Once for the cameras.
So the machines are intelligent after all. Marvellous. Saves us the trouble of explaining it. And we had made a poster.Tales from the Mischief. A new sketch on Sundays. No rats were harmed in the making of this programme. The cardboard fought bravely. The cardboard lost.
Rats really can shred heavy cardboard in minutes. Their incisors never stop growing, so they never stop needing something to chew.[1]