If the AI revolution brings about an age of abundance, as Elon Musk has begun to suggest lest we bring out the guillotine, and no one goes hungry or burns with avarice; if the computers not only cure all our diseases and extend our lives but solve every puzzling mathematical theorem and scientific mystery for us; if universal polyamory and fluidity prevails, the free love dream of 50 years ago is realized, and no one need ever suffer for love again; if all of our “art”–image, literature, music, cinema and video–comes from the computers—that will be the extinction of the human race. The remaining animals–the hollow shells of ourselves, our luxury food chattels and what we manage to preserve in ark-like zoos–will be a hollow mockery of Earth’s kaleidoscopic life and our own evolution of consciousness to witness it which once seemed one of the universe’s marvels. All that will remain will be the cinder of that once bright flame.
Game Over
About Me
Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Trampoline, Unlikely Stories, Peauxdunque Review, LMNL Anthology, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis, What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).
.
Well Bottom Blues 
Leave a comment