It’s fair to say the US military has been leading the charge toward an exciting future of advanced technologies and shorter lineups at the supermarket on account of almost every living soul having been methodically butchered. Its report—Unmanned Systems Integrated Roadmap—laid out how the United States should proceed in developing, acquiring and integrating robot technology until around 2040, and how surprised it should pretend to be when the robots go haywire, take over the military command network and obliterate all civilized life and also Los Angeles. An actual person named Dyke Weatherington, in his capacity as deputy director of the Unmanned Aircraft Systems Task Force, said at a news conference that the US road map “projects an increasing level of autonomy” for killer robots. This will free up America’s human soldiers to perform important new tasks, such as fleeing their own killer robots.
Another US military report—Autonomous Military Robotics—envisions an exciting future in which wars are waged primarily by machines. The worst thing that could happen to you as a human during such a conflict? Your blender might get drafted. The authors seem to delight in noting that “robots have a distinct advantage over the limited and fallible cognitive capabilities that we Homo sapiens have.” For instance, if robots noticed that an endless series of movies were being made about robots turning evil and taking over the world, robots would probably be smart enough not to build robots like that. But not us!
The US is not alone with its military focus. Egypt has spent millions on robots to detect smuggling tunnels along its border with the Gaza Strip. Meanwhile, South Korea has moved ahead with plans to install robot sentries armed with machine guns along its northern border. And the Canadian military is totally thinking of renting Blade Runner.
Despite these obvious reasons for concern, it’s important not to be too hasty in assuming the Robocalypse is nigh. A few years back, a robotic cannon in South Africa shot twenty-three “friendly” soldiers. (Apparently those who survived were noticeably less friendly to the cannon afterwards.) I took the attack as a signal that robots worldwide were poised to turn on and dispose of their human masters. And so, yes, I panicked. I pledged my fealty to the Robot King on Twitter (three favourites—a new record!). I hastily made a banner welcoming my new overlords (“Mission Accomplished,” printed in binary). I even went so far as to betray the precise GPS location of my family members to a giant animatronic mouse down at Chuck E. Cheese. I then tried to seduce my toaster. (To give credit where it’s due, I did manage to get to second base.)
In retrospect, it’s clear that I jumped the gun. At the same time, I remain convinced our end is near. Consider this: word has come that the manufacturer of a popular and adorable robot vacuum cleaner has a new product—a swift-moving, semi-autonomous robot capable of, as Wired.com put it, “killing a whole bunch of people at once.”
A vacuum maker also producing a killer robot armed with a machine gun or 40-mm explosive rounds? It’s either the end of humanity as we know it or the makings of hilarious misunderstanding involving Alice on The Brady Bunch.
And I’m not alone. More and more academics are expressing concern about a potential Robocalypse. In fact, two scientists recently theorized that a self-aware internet might already exist. (If true, let’s hope it’s seeing someone about that porn addiction.)
By some estimates, new progress in artificial intelligence has made even rudimentary robots smarter than 90 percent of our reality-show participants and 75 percent of our Baldwin brothers. And it has been reported that US defence contractors are working on robots that can fuel themselves by consuming “organic matter” found on the battlefield. Some took this to mean the machines would potentially ingest the bodies of dead soldiers. But no, the companies insist their creations will eat only plant matter.
So wait—we’re forcing robots to be vegetarians? Do we really need to give them another reason to hate humans?
Some see hope in the fact that governments and researchers are taking prudent measures to keep robots under human control. In South Korea, officials are drafting the world’s first government-imposed ethical code for robots, likely to be modelled on the three laws of robotics imagined by author Isaac Asimov.
Alas, as countless Hollywood movies have demonstrated, irony is an essential ingredient of a strikingly efficient robotic bloodbath. The other essential ingredients: sharp blades and a tacked-on romantic subplot involving a pretty lady. Jennifer Lawrence? Meet the new hunk in your college dorm: DeathBot 5000.
Bottom line: I stand by my belief that we are making robots too smart and advanced. Even a relatively cheap Lego Robot powered by a smartphone was able to solve a Rubik’s Cube in just a few seconds. Once the robot figures out how to do this while sitting home alone and not attending prom, technology will have officially caught up with the capabilities of the seventeen-year-old me. Only five more years until they unlock the secrets of intercourse!
By the way, just because I’m a prophet of the Robocalypse (join me at my exciting new cult compound—coming soon! Dibs on your wife!) doesn’t mean I’m blind to the other emerging threats to humanity, such as the inevitable monkey uprising and the introduction of Bud Light Lime-a-Rita.
Here’s one threat in particular that caught my eye: scientists recently linked the brains of two rats on different continents in an experiment that could pave the way for organic supercomputers built from networked animal brains. This achievement raises a number of questions, such as: (a) Why would anyone do that?? and (b) THAT QUESTION AGAIN, BUT LOUDER.
“Don’t worry—it’s not telepathy, it’s not the Borg,” neuroscientist Miguel Nicolelis said reassuringly, probably as a brain-linked rat slowly rose behind him clutching piano wire.
Surely there are potential advances that could come from linking a bunch of central nervous systems. Maybe one day, with thousands of brains networked together, we’ll be able to cure paralysis or write a half-decent Matthew Perry sitcom.
But we’ve all seen enough movies to know that when a scientist says a breakthrough isn’t something, there is roughly a 107 percent chance that it is, in fact, that very something. So when Dr. Nicolelis says this isn’t the beginning of a cybernetic master race that will sweep through the galaxy, assimilating billions of innocents into its hive mind, what he actually means is: resistance is futile.
Tough Question: Bill Gates has said that significant changes are in store for the internet in the coming decade. What will be the biggest advances?
Eliminating cumbersome screen interface, porn becomes downloadable directly to crotch
Increasingly ineffective pop-up advertising replaced with harder-to-ignore boxing glove that punches you in face
Separate internet established for old people just discovering LOLCats and “YouTubes”
Intrepid sleuthing reveals wealthy Nigerian dictator was actually alive and well the whole time!
Online GPS tracking of teenagers enables parents to discover in real time just how unpopular and boring their kids really are
Political campaigns henceforth waged exclusively on the web, leading to surefire “Clinton-Star Wars kid” ticket for 2016 election
New feature allows you to reply to forwarded list of lawyer jokes with lethal electric shock
The Future and Why We Should Avoid it
Reason No. 4: Politics in Canada
Interviewed while mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford said that one day he wants to run to be prime minister.
The year is 2021. A former stripper, recently appointed Governor General by Prime Minister Ford, prepares to deliver the Speech from the Throne. As is custom, the GG and PM share the floor of the Senate. Breaking with convention, the GG is seated on the PM’s lap.
Governor General Busty McKnockers: Honourable senators, members of the House, esteemed waitresses from the Hooters out near the airport, a monkey for some reason, ladies and gentlemen:
We gather to open the secon
d session of the forty-third Parliament. Today, our country stands as a model for the world—admired for our freedom, respected for our values, renowned for a subway line that extends from Scarborough to Winnipeg, providing high-density transit to the scattered hermits of various remote locations.
Your prime minister has travelled this land. He has met with ordinary people. He has heard their concerns. And he has returned with a list of women who have “nice cans.” At his insistence, I will read from that list:
Amber, a blackjack dealer in Saskatoon.
Shannon. Possibly from Guelph, but it’s a little hazy.
That one chick he saw from his limo. She was eating an ice-cream cone, if that helps.
I can’t make this one out, because it’s written on the back of a hash-brown wrapper, but I think it says … Donna D.D.?
Ford: Your majesticness, that’s double-D Donna. Because, you know … [He makes the ample-bosom gesture.] That means her boobs were big.
McKnockers: Nous sommes trente-cinq millions de personnes provenant—
Ford: Hang on, what is that—Polish? Klingon? You’re doing it wrong, Your Highnessnence. Lemme finish up, okay?
Senators and whoever: I’m tired of all the bellyaching, okay? You’re a bunch of whiners. You whined when I turned Stornoway into my man cave. You whined when I appointed my brother Doug to the Supreme Court—which, in my defence, I thought was a basketball-themed restaurant. You whined when I didn’t know Prince Edward Island was a real thing. As if anyone does.
The Opposition is always asking me stupid questions in the House like, “Did you know they don’t allow Zubaz in here?” and “Why has every single one of your state visits as PM been to Jamaica?” Like we can afford to just ignore the world’s 122nd-largest economy!
I’ve made mistakes. I’m human. I probably shouldn’t have got so drunk at that state funeral. But don’t try and tell me you all haven’t thought about doing the Weekend at Bernie’s thing. Once again, I want to extend my best wishes to the widow as the search continues for her husband’s body.
And sure, I probably should have studied before my first G7 meeting. I know my words there were embarrassing for everyone, but it honestly never occurred to me Chancellor Merkel might be a woman. Have you seen how she dresses? Anyway, I was totally joking when I later proposed a three-way with her and President Clinton. I’m a married man. I would definitely hit on two younger ladies.
My point is: I’ve never been under the influence of alcohol or drugs at a meeting or any time in office. Not that I can remember, anyway. I know a lot of you are thinking about that incident in New York, but I bet a lot of guys celebrate their first time at the United Nations by getting a face tattoo.
Besides, it doesn’t matter what any of you think. The taxpayers like me. They see themselves in me—especially the part where I admit my shortcomings but fail to muster even a half-hearted effort to correct them. By being me, I make you feel better about you!
[Tosses away rest of speech.] You know what? Let’s wrap this up. I’ve got an after-party to get to.
McKnockers: Honourable senators and MPs, may Divine Providence guide you in your deliberations.
Ford: Divine Providence? If that’s one of your stripper buddies, definitely bring her along.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Let’s talk about your future. Every time there’s talk of an election, a number of Canadians toy with the idea of running for office. Do you have what it takes to be a member of Parliament? Let’s find out.
Do you like birthdays? If so, do you like other people’s birthdays? Do you like being obligated to show up at other people’s birthdays, anniversaries, retirement parties, book launches, interventions, seances, hoedowns and circumcisions? As an MP, you’ll get invited to everything and be expected to give a speech paying tribute to the individual/group/penis.
Do you have at least one hand? Pounding your hand on things is important in politics—desks, tables, the heads of small children, whatever’s around.
Your Leader: Our political rivals despise our freedom, our way of life and this cute panda I’m holding.
[You pound vigorously …]
Is your primary skill the ability to occupy physical space? If so, you may already be a member of the Conservative caucus. Please double-check before filing new nomination papers.
Do you lack the capacity to feel? This sounds harsh, but it helps to have a paucity of human emotion. As an MP, you will be subjected to confrontation, humiliation and profanity. A normal person would respond by weeping for hours in the fetal position. An MP responds by smiling serenely and carrying on. And by developing horribly painful stress ulcers that make life an unendurable hardship.
How do you feel about spending your entire summer eating hamburgers and hot dogs at dozens of community cookouts instead of going on a nice vacation? True story: by the time she retired after twenty years in politics, former Liberal cabinet minister Sheila Copps was hickory-smoked.
Are you committed to the idea of public service? Representing your constituents and voting with your conscience is the sacred duty of all MPs. Unless you’re told not to do that, which is what usually happens.
Are you excited about moving to the nation’s capital? Life in Ottawa is great if you like extremes in weather and a downtown uncluttered by visual appeal, entertainment attractions and, after 6:30 PM, humans.
Does your spouse hate you? It helps if your spouse hates you. It will save you both the pain of your spouse growing to hate you. Understand something: being a political wife or husband is about the worst thing imaginable—unless you have a good imagination and can imagine Stephen Harper in a tankini. The spouse is forced to listen to the same speech over and over and pretend to be riveted. The spouse must attend tedious functions and pretend to be interested. The spouse must experience tender family moments and pretend you’re not sitting there thinking to yourself, “This will make a great anecdote that will further humanize me in the eyes of the electorate!”
Are you a quick learner? There are advantages to being an MP. International junkets. Free domestic travel. Getting close enough to Peter MacKay to actually hear him flex his pectorals as a pretty woman walks by. That’s all good stuff. But you need to swiftly learn the nuances of political life, such as grasping parliamentary procedure and discovering that Ralph Goodale can speak for forty-five minutes on any topic, including “How are you, Ralph?”
Do you have the energy for it? Don’t get me wrong: there are more exhausting jobs out there. Mining for coal. Working construction. Being Tom Cruise’s smile. But an MP’s day begins early and ends late. Think of it this way: Do you ever come home after a gruelling workday and think to yourself, “Man, I sure wish there was a meeting of the Rotary Club tonight?”
Are you prepared to embarrass yourself, your country and your system of government with your behaviour in Question Period? Some people can bray like a donkey. Others can make obscene gestures. But Parliament Hill is the big time—you need to be able to do both simultaneously.
Results: If you answered yes to most of these questions, you just may be ready to run for federal office. If you answered yes to the last question, your party leader will be dropping by shortly to sign your nomination papers.
Or maybe you’re aiming a little higher. Maybe you picture yourself running the show in the Prime Minister’s Office. Let’s say, for the sake of example, that a certain Stephen Harper is PM …
Dear Successful Applicant:
Congratulations on being named chief of staff. You follow in a line of individuals who have occupied this important position until growing weary of the time commitment and spankings. As a general rule, Mr. Harper does not wish to be spoken to, looked at, thought about, drawn by children or otherwise disturbed—except in the event of a national emergency or the guys from Loverboy wanting to jam.
Before att
empting to contact the prime minister, therefore, please consult this list of frequently asked questions:
What is the role of chief of staff?
The chief of staff is a critical buffer that shields the prime minister from painful ordeals, such as being reminded that he named Pierre Poilievre to cabinet.
What is my authority as chief of staff?
You have been granted sweeping authority to be slyly assigned much of the blame for the prime minister’s future failings. Also, at staff meetings you get first pick of muffins (a.k.a. the Giorno Directive).
What’s clutching onto my leg?
That’s Tony Clement. He’s been trying to get a private meeting with the prime minister since 2007.
What should I do?
Get it off. GET IT OFF!
Where can I find the PMO staffers responsible for communications?
Mr. Harper’s spin team can be found on the first floor of Langevin Block. And on the second floor. And writing editorials for the National Post. There are additional aides stationed on a Canadian Forces transport that is kept airborne at all times to ensure that, in the event of imminent nuclear holocaust, Canadians can be informed that Mr. Harper invited the Barenaked Ladies up to Harrington Lake and it was delightful.
Where can I find the PMO staffers responsible for policy development?
The what now?
What is expected of me as chief of staff?
You are expected to instill discipline, improve legislative efficiency, ensure the government’s survival . . .
Wow, that’s an awful lot to—
. . . enhance electoral prospects in urban centres, balance the divergent ideologies and priorities of Reformers and Progressive Conservatives and convince Canadians that Mr. Harper has within his chest a beating human heart (his own, preferably, but let’s not be a stickler about it).
The Future and Why We Should Avoid It Page 6
