ArcaMax

Yawn. Time for another sun-dappled morning of human existence, drinking in the beauty of the natural world. Let me just turn off the phone alarm. Oop. News alert.

Former Anthropic researcher warns AI could kill us all.

Oh.

Coffee.

OK, it says here that multiple AI researchers are sounding alarms that the rapid expansion of technology could lead to human extinction by ... by when, now? By the end of the decade? That's, like, three years. Cool!!! I thought large language models were just stealing my life's work without consent or compensation to pump out hollow facsimiles, but apparently they want to murder me, too. That makes sense, as I am always whining.

Bagel thin.

It says here that AI agents are on track to become so skilled that they could learn to create viruses, take down power grids, dismantle financial systems and even deploy bioweapons. That bots won't take kindly to being asked to power down. That artificial models could perceive humans as an inconvenience to be eradicated. The Wall Street Journal explains the idea that "a superintelligent machine told to maximize paper clip production could in time decide to turn all matter on Earth into paper clips, humans included."

Spelling Bee.

Suppose I'll just go about my day! Gotta run the Pomeranian to the groomer to get the gunk out of his eyes. Maybe this conscientiousness will spare me when a robot army decides humans are fun pets -- a charitable move, really. I wonder what flavor of pet I will be in our postapocalyptic year of 2030. Yeah, probably a Pomeranian.

Walk. Have to get those 10,000 steps.

My fitness level won't matter when physical strength is rendered moot by some superstrain of bot-engineered SARS. The murderous technology will not be impressed by how many pushups I can do. Per the theory of "recursive self-improvement," eventually agents won't need humans to train them at all. Claude, for example, could update itself.

School car line.

I'll check in on satellite radio while I wait. CNN hosts are interviewing experts about how our divisions -- politics and gender and race and geography -- won't amount to a hill of beans in the clutches of a global tech hostage scenario. And yes, I used em dashes, which I used long before AI was fixing to eighty-six us! Huh, the radio dropped out. Oh, no, the anchor just went into stunned silence.

Diet Coke.

This is all so worth it, huh? I'm glad business owners can cheap out on ugly, low-resolution posters barfed from a digital T-shirt cannon. I'm so happy people can prompt the water-guzzling tech to draw cartoons of themselves with big '80s hair, it's really funny, haha. Thank God (is He mad at us?) that ChatGPT is here to help build travel itineraries because we're all going to need help booking a Holiday Inn Express when we travel to the GRAVE. And good thing we have such stable leadership to get Americans through this acute existential crisis!

Dinner plan. Quiche and a salad? Whatever, honestly. Wine would be great.

I try not to drink much during the week, but who the #$&@ cares? Best-case scenario, even deep thinkers are destined to succumb to the convenience of pocket bots. We'll be the proud owners of brains that look like glossy walnuts in a rock tumbler. At least a few tech bro dudes will be able to afford gaudy superyachts before we all shuffle off this mortal coil at the hands of the T-1000. THE QUICHE IS READY, COME GET IT OR DON'T, I DON'T EVEN CARE.

Wine.

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Stephanie Hayes is a columnist at the Tampa Bay Times in Florida. Follow her at @stephrhayes on Instagram.

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