“Introducing ChatGPT Work-“
The year is 2149. Most people have had The Thinker implanted into their brains, so you really never know who you can trust. You can’t tell who’s human. Some days I’m unsure if I can trust myself.
Now that thought is obsolete, they just follow it. It’s their idol— it’s their merciless god that makes a supplicant hive mind of them. The singularity came and they welcomed it with open arms, laying down their autonomy at its brutalist metal feet.
What once was a laboratory housing a quantum computer hosting a powerful generative AI is now something of a modern day tabernacle.
Hope is futile nowadays, but by night I catch myself fantasising about a world where we destroy it. But, now I can’t help but wonder whether, if it is destroyed, everyone under its hold will be back to normal, or if its pincers have gone too deep, if there’s anyone left in there at all.
















