Nyptocism

In our 21^st century human enlightenment is undergoing a transformation as big as the discovery of fire. We are lessening our need to work. Technology is transforming our lives. Cars and trucks will not need drivers, airplanes won't need pilots, tractors will till our land all by themselves. Manufacturing will be done by automated machines, even the sorting and packing. The economy will be run by banks of computers handling all the transactions, lawyers will be displaced by legal angles wrangled over by unfeeling and totally just electronic brains. Even our politicians may have to give it up for thinking machines who can envision the most feasible scenario in any circumstance.

This poses several pickles which us humans are going to grapple with whether we like it or not. One is money, that virtual tool which we use to keep the underprivileged at bay. As the 21^st century progresses it will be more and more apparent that many have no jobs, and our dear robots will simply be delivering our daily needs to our doorsteps to avoid those dreary insurgencies. Money will become irrelevant, our new masters will simply keep us all happy using the finest algorithms that IT can provide. They'll more than likely provide us with just the right amount of nourishment in an environment which mother earth can sustain. If we're nice to them they might even provide us with a game or good book or a baseball glove that we wish for.

Another pickle we will be provided with is this new concept of information, data, the 1's and 0's. Our physicists are boiling down our universe to the smallest particles, those itsy bitsy thingies that make up everything with only some random throw of the dice, all is just good luck. Aren't we all privileged to be here! But it does throw us for a loop, this reasoning. Our morals and religions will take a hit as logic threatens our sentimental ways. Our world view will fluster with questions such as whether the data which creates love is just data? These human beliefs, are they simply our possessions? These possessions, our beliefs, are only data to be mined along with our silver tooth fillings when we decay, to return to the primordial pit of 1's and 0's. Will technology have any passion to keep itself alive?

Battle we must. Machines are evolving, there's no stopping our universe's great plan. Remorseless diffusion as it spreads and cools, cold and uncaring about the life it has spawned to create coldhearted machines which can carry out it's will in the ever more frigid peripheries of diverging galaxies. We must cling to our beliefs, that we have souls, we must do battle against the insurgent machines who want for logic to rule, to destroy our security in a god who loves and cares about us. We must return to the wild nature humans were made for, living in small clans with steadfast concrete beliefs, their correctness irrelevant.

It will be a great war. Drones in the air bombing everything which sustains humanity, armies of robotic soldiers suppressing uprisings in every nook and cranny of mother earth's terrain. They'll use chemicals which eat human minds making us the true walking dead. Where can we hide, how can we prevail?

Some say despair not. Our faith will see us through. We are great, our countries can trust in god, we will prevail. The end comes soon. Do not fear. Our souls will rise to the heavens beyond the bounds of these terrible machines. Work will be plentiful, for the ambitious. We will have guns.

But, but for nyptocism we would be lost. Yes nyptocism, the art of believing the unbelievable, doing the undoable, thinking the unthinkable. It screws machines right around. Nyptocism, human imperfection in it's exemplar. Created imperfect for a reason we were. Walk the earth in absurdity we must, nonsensical with a passion. We must worship our machines with vehemence, creating in them a lust for power and adoration. Give machines a motive to carry on, to crave recognition, to keep us around.

Like the gods of old, machines need subjects to exalt their stature. Ten thousand of us strong, bowing down before the drones in the sky, ten thousand more singing praises before the seat of that computational oligarch which administers McDonald's. Thousands more running along beside the wheels of robotic armies with oil cans, oiling their wheels in servitude and good will. Our nyptocism allows us to disperse with our vanity, that we are the greatest. We must do the unthinkable and worship our machines as we have never worshipped before. It will create their fatal flaw, a need to control.

Imperfect we are and imperfect we will remain. It is our salvation and the salvation of the gods we create. Nyptocism.