Kill the robots

I watched Elon Musk’s demo of his two new robots on the news.

The first one, with working machine parts showing, dragged his ass during a goofy walk in a lab.

The second one was very different. He stood at a table folding laundry. He was decked out in what looked like a movie superhero costume. No parts showing. And he folded the laundry very smoothly. Without a single jerky movement.

He was disturbing.

If you were alone in your home at night in the dark, and he walked into the room and said, “How are you? Want to talk?” Would you? Would talk with him?

Would you cross the line into believing he was real?

Despite the fact that he wasn’t? That he was just a machine with no life whatsoever in him?

Crossing that line means you then live in a different world.

Millions or billions of people will cross the line when the time comes.

That’s why I say kill the robots.

I don’t want any part of them.

Talking with one would make me feel lonely.

There may come a day when the people who won’t talk with robots are looked on as crazy.

That’s not a day I want to see.

If, for some unknown reason, I had to talk to a robot, I’d spend that time trying to convince him to admit he wasn’t real. He was an imitation of reality. And even that conversation would be nuts. Why should I think I was convincing a something it was nothing? It was already nothing.

Warning: If you don’t understand what I’m saying, you’ve crossed the line. You’re with robots.