us about the machines. One of the more
horrifying examples is I Have No Mouth & I Must Scream.
It was written by Harlan Ellison and published way back in 1967.
The details of such warnings vary. Sometimes, the machines become
autonomous and seize control. Sometimes, they're merely instruments
of control by the government. Given the persistence of such warnings
over the decades, it's amazing to me that people fail to notice the rise
of the machines today. As the Mexican boy observed, near the end
of The Terminator, "There's a storm coming." It might be possible
to avoid the nightmare that I see in our future, but it doesn't seem likely.
People just don't seem to be that smart. The machines are rising,
and the people don't see it coming.
The
way that this will end is of at least academic interest. If the cars
remain merely tools of the government, then subservience to human masters
is assured. Maybe it will be something like Orwell's 1984,
or The Tomorrow File, by Lawrence Sanders. It seems more likely
to me that the network will become autonomous. In that case, other
scenarios arise, scenarios in which the human condition might not be just
subservience, but extinction.
I
started reading science fiction in 1958. In the ensuing 60 years,
I've read several man vs. machine stories. I even wrote two of my
own,
Cybernaught
and Cold
War. This article isn't just another fictional warning.
I fear that an artificially intelligent, fully integrated, autonomous car
swarm, governed only by it's own inhuman, cybernetic operating system,
is already being built.
Roadside Repair
Fiction by Sam Aurelius Milam III
Hi,
it's me again, Hal.
Remember
the story I told about those alien insects that I killed with the bug spray?
[Alien
Invasion from Outer Space, June 2012, page 2 editor]
Well, I got another story to tell.
I
was sittin' in my kitchen the other day, watchin' the wrestlin' an' eatin'
a grilled cheese sandwich. I got a bigger TV in the front room but
the little one in the kitchen is okay and it's closer to the food.
Anyway,
there I sat, munchin' my grilled cheese sandwich, and I heard a little
tap tap tap on the back door. I put down my sandwich, got up, walked
over to the door, and looked out the window. Didn't see nuthin' so
I looked down, and there he was, she was, it was? Don't know.
It was a little gray alien. I knew right away that it wasn't no kid
in a costume. The shapes and sizes were all wrong. It had to
be a real alien. He (it?) just stood there lookin' up at me, so I
opened the door.
The
alien turned around, walked away for a few steps, stopped, turned back
around, and looked at me. It sorta reminded me of those old TV shows
where the dog wants you to follow it. So, I followed the alien.
He walked around the insect space ship, it's still there, still gray.
I still spend some time sittin' on top of it at night, watchin' the stars.
Sometimes, Jack still comes over and we have a couple of beers up there,
sittin' in my lawn chairs, just like I told you in that other story.
Anyway,
the alien walked around the insect ship, since it's still there maybe that's
why he stopped here, I don't know. Maybe he thought this was a service
station or somethin'. His ship was around the other side of the insect
ship. It was smaller than the insect ship, and out of sight of the
kitchen window. That's why I didn't see it land. It had a ramp
stickin' out the side, a lot like the ramp that had stuck out of the insect
ship. Not exactly, but close enough that I got the idea. It
was a ramp.
The
alien walked over to about 3 feet to the left of the ramp and there was
a little door hangin' open on the side of his ship. Inside of the
little compartment was a sort of board, kind of like a circuit board, but
not quite. The alien reached in, hooked his finger under the board,
and pushed it up into a little slot. When he turned loose of it,
the board just slid back down again. The alien gave me a very convincin'
shrug. Convincin' for an alien. His shoulders weren't really
built for shruggin', but I got the idea.
I
reached in, pushed the board into the slot, and it just slid back out.
I leaned over and looked in. It was just a slot in the top of the
compartment. I looked at the alien and said, "I think I can fix that."
I
went into the house and came back with my scissors and my roll of duct
tape. The little alien was still standin' there, waitin'. I
snipped off a good-sized piece of duct tape, pushed the board up into the
slot, and stuck the tape over it. I looked at the alien and asked,
"How's that?"
He
looked at it carefully, tapped it a time or two, closed the little door,
and that was that. He just turned around and went back into his space
ship. The ramp slid up, the door closed, the space ship floated up,
and away.
I
went back inside, put my scissors and duct tape away, picked up my grilled
cheese sandwich, and sat back down at the kitchen table. Wrestlin'
was over, but there's always somethin' to watch on the TV. Ancient
Aliens was just comin on. I should call those guys.
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