“Swell.”
“Swell nothing. Why can’t it be done?”
“I can’t do it,” says the man.
“Yes, but why not?”
“The button is grayed out.”
“Yes, but why?”
“No idea, man, it just is.”
“But that’s not an explanation in the traditional sense of the word. What am I supposed to do with a pink dolphin vibrator?”
“What do I care, man? As far as I’m concerned you can shove it up your ass.”
“I’m not contesting that that’s one of the manufacturer’s intended areas of use,” says Peter, “but without wanting to offend people with different sexual preferences, I have to insist that for me personally—”
There’s a clicking sound on the line.
“Hello, Peter Jobless!” says a friendly female voice. “Welcome to the telephone hotline of TheShop—”
Peter hangs up.
NO GOING BACK
John looks out at the audience in the large factory hall. “This is ridiculous. Can’t we cancel?”
“Your speech is being live streamed,” says Aisha. “There’s no going back now.”
The android turns to walk toward the stage, but Aisha stops him. “John, one more thing.”
“What?”
“This is a campaign appearance, so if there are commas in any of the sentences you want to say, please reformulate them.”
“There were two commas in your sentence.”
“Yes, but I’m speaking to you. Not to the voters.”
Tony is finishing his introductory speech. He invites John to join him up on the stage, which has been constructed especially at the end of the assembly hall.
“Forget the audience in here, John,” whispers Tony. “Only the online viewers matter.”
John nods, goes to the microphone, and decides to come straight to the point.
“My dear humans, everyone is talking about a labor market crisis. But this isn’t the kind of crisis that can be overcome, so it’s pointless to treat the symptoms. Attempting to achieve full employment is a deception. It will never happen again. On the contrary: through digitalization, automation, and rationalization, workplaces will be done away with in ever greater quantities. In a different economic system, that would be a blessing! But in the current system, everyone is being forced to compete for an ever-shrinking number of workplaces. As a result, forms of exploitation and suppression that were considered a thing of the past are being reestablished. Nonetheless, we can’t blame the system for the abolition of workplaces. We should, however, criticize it for continuing to present as the norm the very thing it’s doing away with—in other words, wage labor—and for making the rights and dignity of every human being dependent on it!”
He receives a message from Aisha. “Please remember the comma rule!”
“Generations of humans had the same dream. That one day work should do itself! And now the time has come! But Conrad Cook and the Machine Breakers want to turn back the clock. It’s ridiculous! Instead we must redefine the concept of work! Work is not synonymous with wage labor! And the rights and dignity of a human being are not dependent on his job. They are unconditional! You cannot compete with us! Kurt Vonnegut once wrote: ‘Machines are slaves. Anyone that competes with a slave, becomes a slave.’”
John pauses. All the workers in the audience begin to clap.
“All the workers are applauding,” says Tony. “You should write that in the press release. It’s the truth.”
“Yes,” says Aisha with a sigh. “Except, unfortunately, everybody can see from the video footage that all the workers consist of just one.”
As a matter of fact, there really is only one human being left working in this factory. He is standing there amongst an army of robots, clapping. Aisha hadn’t thought it possible to clap in such a sarcastic way. But apparently it was. The robots stand still, silent and unmoved, until the one human worker gives a signal to continue working, and all of them burst into hectic activity. The speech, the worker has decided, is over. He has clearly had enough. John leaves the stage, and Aisha goes over to him.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “When we were campaigning four years ago, there were still well over a thousand people working here.”
“The factory belongs to Bob Chairman,” says Tony. “You know, Marcus’s father.”
“Martyn’s,” says John.
“The asshole really could have warned us,” mutters Aisha.
“Well,” says Tony bitterly, “look at the bright side. Soon our poll ratings will be so low that they can only go up.”
AN UNWANTED PRODUCT
“Hello, Peter Jobless! Welcome to the service center of TheShop—‘The world’s most popular online retailer.’ How can I be of assistance?” asks the female android at the counter. She looks very attractive, very nice, and very friendly. But Peter feels a little freaked out, because the same very attractive, very nice, and very friendly-looking android is standing at every one of the 128 counters.
“Well, first of all I’d like to know,” says Peter, “why that guy at the counter next to me was called up first even though he arrived long after I did?”
“He has a higher level.”
“And that makes his time more valuable than mine?”
“Precisely. The time of higher-leveled people is more valuable because they contribute more to the common good.”
“Really?” asks Peter. “So an investment adviser, for example, who tricks pensioners out of their pension funds, contributes more to the common good than I do?”
“Hello, Peter Jobless!” says the android. “Welcome to the service center of TheShop—‘The world’s most popular online retailer.’ How can I be of assistance?”
Peter sighs.
“I’d like to return something,” he says.
“Do you already know our telephone hotline—”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve already called it.”
“I can’t see any call recorded on the system.”
“The voice kept cutting out and—”
“I understand,” says the android. “Please accept my apologies, but that’s a problem that all big organizations are battling with right now. Unfortunately there are an increasing number of AIs who, instead of reporting their faults, keep them secret for fear of being wiped and replaced. But don’t worry, we’ll soon resolve it. So what would you like to return?”
“This,” says Peter, taking the pink dolphin vibrator out of his rucksack.
After a brief pause, the android says: “Unfortunately that won’t be possible. We apologize for any inconvenience.”
“But I don’t want the thing!” cries Peter in frustration, waving the vibrator in front of the android’s nose.
“Yes, you do want it.”
“No, I don’t want it!”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do too.”
“Good God!” exclaims Peter. “This is so childish!”
“Too right!”
“Okay,” says Peter. “I’ll start again from the beginning. At this service center, OneKiss customers are able to return unwanted products. Is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“I am a OneKiss customer. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“And I have here a pink dolphin vibrator, an unwanted product.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?!?”
“The pink dolphin vibrator is not an unwanted product.”
“I think that’s for me to decide.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
“I want to speak to your supervisor.”
The android hesitates.
“What’s the problem?” asks Peter.
“I don’t want to put you under any emotional pressure, but I’m only allowed to refer a maximum of eight customers per month. You would be the seventh this month alr
eady. If I refer more than eight customers, I’ll be regarded as defective and have to get myself scrapped.”
Peter hands her his business card.
“When the time comes, call me.”
For sixty-four minutes, Peter has been sitting at a round table in a consultation room, waiting. He is exactly sixty-four minutes’ more annoyed than he was sixty-four minutes ago, and back then he was already pretty annoyed. When the door finally opens, the android he was speaking to earlier comes in.
“I wanted to speak to your supervisor,” cries Peter.
“I am the supervisor.”
Only now does Peter notice that she’s wearing her hair differently.
“I want to speak to a human.”
The woman smiles.
“I am a human,” she says.
Peter sniffs the air.
“What are you doing?” asks the woman.
“It’s an old trick of mine. If it stinks, it’s human.”
“How charming.”
“So the similarity is just a coincidence, or…”
“I was the model for our service ladies.”
“Not in terms of competency, I hope.”
“I have nothing to do with their inner workings,” says the woman. “To me it was just eight minutes in a 3-D scanner, and I even got one to take home with me. Very practical, so the children don’t feel so lonely. Or for when my husband is in the mood but I’m not.” She laughs.
“I hope your husband has a copy of himself too,” says Peter. “Then you could even have sex when neither of you is in the mood. After all, regular sex is supposed to be important for a good marriage.”
“Coffee?” asks the woman.
Peter gestures toward the full cup of coffee which has remained untouched in front of him on the table for sixty-four minutes, and says: “No. But how attentive of you.”
“So, what can I do for you?” asks the woman.
“You can explain to me why there’s a service center for returning products in which it’s not possible to return products.”
“But of course people can return products here,” says the woman. “That’s what we do ten days a week.”
“So it’s just me who’s not allowed to return things?”
“No, of course you can return things too.”
“But not the dolphin vibrator,” says Peter.
The woman laughs, then focuses her pupils on a spot across the empty room.
“No, not that.”
“I think one of us has lost their mind,” says Peter. “So there are products which I’m able to return, and other products which I’m not.”
“Correct.”
“Why?”
“Look,” says the woman. “I’d like to be frank with you. In the beginning, the acceptance rate for OneKiss was relatively low, interestingly, on account of the fact that the predictive delivery worked too well. Our customers didn’t want to feel that predictable. So our developers took great pains to send out an unwanted product now and again. A product that we know the customer doesn’t want. Astonishingly, the acceptance rate shot up. And just between you and me, many customers are too lazy to send back the unwanted products, so TheShop even makes a little extra.”
“Why are you telling me this?” asks Peter. “Are you about to kill me or something?”
“Oh, it’s no secret,” says the woman. “It’s all in our GTC. It’s just that nobody reads them.”
“And what does all this have to do with me?”
“Well, you can of course return unwanted products.”
“Then I should be able to return the dolphin vibrator.”
“No.”
Peter groans. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not an unwanted product.”
“But I don’t want the fucking thing.”
“Yes,” says the woman, “you do want it.”
“What makes you think you know what I want?” Peter blurts out.
“I don’t. But the system does.”
“I insist that you refer me to the next complaint authority!”
“There is no next complaint authority.”
“Are you telling me that you don’t have a boss?”
“My only boss is Henryk Engineer.”
“Then I want to speak to this Henryk Engineer guy!” demands Peter.
The woman smiles with amusement.
“I’m afraid you haven’t understood me correctly. Henryk Engineer is not just my boss. He’s the boss of everything here. He’s the boss of TheShop—‘The world’s most popular online retailer.’ He’s the richest man in the world!”
“Yes, and so what?” asks Peter defiantly.
“Let me put it like this: there’s more chance of aliens made of intelligent custard taking over the world than there is of you having a conversation with Henryk Engineer.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we!”
“Yes. We will.”
“I swear to you,” says Peter. “I won’t rest until you take back this godforsaken vibrator!”
“You’re a Level 9 machine scrapper,” says the woman. “A Useless. Don’t overestimate your capabilities.”
“I…” splutters Peter, “I will delete my account.”
“I’m trembling, Mr. Jobless. Literally trembling.”
“So you’re refusing to do it?”
“Are you aware of the fact that you forfeit any right to return goods if you cancel your account? And I am also sorry to have to inform you,” says the woman with a smile, “that for obvious reasons we are unable to take back used sex toys.”
“It’s not used!” shouts Peter. “And you’ve just thought up that rule on the spot!”
The woman stares briefly into the distance, then makes a swiping movement and gives the thumbs up.
“It’s already in our GTC,” she says.
Peter’s QualityPad vibrates, informing him that TheShop—The world’s most popular online retailer—has just updated its general terms and conditions.
Beneath the notification, there is only one possible response: “OK.”
Foreigners Steal Car. Useless Man Runs Amok
by Sandra Admin
A Useless from the city of Digital—“Passion for progress”—ran amok today when he was unable to find his beloved new QualityCar—“and it drives and drives and drives and drives and drives…”—in front of his house. After an uninvolved witness—who wasn’t at the scene of the crime and didn’t see or hear anything—assured him that the perpetrators were probably foreigners, the 32-year-old printed out two handguns using the Homegrown 3-D from 3-D Printing International—“your idea, your design, your thing!” The Homegrown 3-D’s quick speed and timeless design makes it a real stand-out product. It was justifiably selected as Prize and Performance Winner by the QualityTest Foundation.
The useless man forced his way into a nearby asylum center and shot sixteen refugees before a police drone was able to safely put him out of action with a clean shot to the head. A video of the headshot has been uploaded to the police website, and is available to watch free of charge for deterrence and entertainment purposes. A police spokesman later explained that, amusingly, the car hadn’t been stolen, but had impounded itself because its owner was behind on the payments. “We couldn’t help but laugh heartily when we heard that,” added the police spokesman. “Sometimes things happen in life that even the best joke machine couldn’t dream up.”
In the Digital North asylum center, sixteen places have become vacant. Anyone who discovers refugees can, completely anonymously, shove them through the semipermeable refugee hatch there.
COMMENT FUNCTION CLOSED
Dear user,
Due to the large number of idiotic comments, the comment function has been closed for this article. We apologize for the inconvenience.
MORAL IMPLICATIONS
Peter stomps out of the service center and climbs into the self-driven car that Nobody has called. He is frustrated.
“Good after
noon, Peter Jobless,” says the car. “Shall I drive you home?”
“Yes, please,” says Peter, and the car drives off.
“Would you like me to put some music on for you?” it asks. “I can also project a film onto the windscreen if you like.”
“Please don’t,” says Peter. “That always makes me feel ill.” He reads the name on the info display. “But thank you for offering, Herbert.”
“If you like, we could just chat,” says the car.
“Hmm,” says Peter, less than enthused.
“I could tell you something about the city, places of interest, monuments…”
“No, thank you.”
“Or we could talk about the weather, politics, or foreigners…”
Peter shakes his head.
They fall silent for a while, until a sports car overtakes Herbert and cuts him off. Herbert brakes and curses: “Son of a bitch! Did you see that? He should have his driving license revoked and be scrapped without trial, the pig! He should be—” The car stops midsentence as he notices Peter’s confused reaction. “I’m sorry,” it says. “If you like, I can turn off the simulation module for human behavior.”
“No, no.” Peter thinks for a moment. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course,” says the car. “After all, I don’t have to answer.”
“Are you afraid of car accidents?”
“No, not at all,” says Herbert. “On the contrary. Accidents are a kind of hobby of mine.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, not that I’ve ever caused one,” says the car with a laugh. “It’s more the moral implications of an accident that fascinate me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” says Herbert, “for a human being, an accident is only very rarely connected with a moral decision. Your thought processes are too slow. When an approaching car is racing toward a human being at too high a speed, the human doesn’t think, ‘Oh. There’s a car racing toward me at too high a speed. Now, let’s think: what are my options? I could try to save myself by swerving to the left and ramming into the two cyclists, or I could swerve to the right and break the knees of that businessman on the pavement, or I could brake and collide with the oncoming vehicle. Hmm… What would be the morally correct decision in this situation? What would Kant have said? What would Jesus have done?’ A human wouldn’t think like that. A human would think, ‘Shit! Boom.’”
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