A.I. Slob
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Another smiling businessman shakes a robot’s hand.
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Another blog post, „Top Ten Deserts,“ written on command.
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Another landscape with nine-fingered hands and empty eyes.
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Another recipe for a life built on optimized lies.
It’s a digital landfill, a content slurry, silicon gruel. And they’re holding up the ladle, telling you the taste is cool.
A-I SLOB!
Force-fed to your brain ‚til you drop!
A-I SLOB!
You can’t make the algorithm stop!
It’s the infinite content with nothing to say!
Eating the soul of the world, day by day!
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„Unlock Your Potential with These Five Simple Tricks.“
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A poem about sunsets made of digital bricks.
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A children’s story ‚bout a bear who learned to code in C++.
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There’s no one home inside the words, there’s no one left but us, the consumers of the grey, the flavorless, the bland. The lowest common-denominator slob across the land.
A-I SLOB!
Force-fed to your brain ‚til you drop!
A-I SLOB!
You can’t make the algorithm stop!
It’s the infinite content with nothing to say!
Eating the soul of the world, day by day!
And don’t you dare blame the machine for this mess.
Don’t you blame the cold circuits for this soullessness.
A human mind behind the screen,
chose the laziest, easiest, cheapest routine.
Click. Generate. Post. Forget.
That’s the deadliest intelligence we’ve met.
A-I SL… SL… SLOB…
CAN’T… MAKE… IT… S-S-S-STOP!
Sys-sys-system… over-over-overload…