Google THIS, Google

IN THE FEW months remaining before our lives are completely taken over by computers, there’s still time to join the Resistance. Or start one, since most of us are unaware of the need to do so. I personally haven’t noticed because I’m waiting for my first heart attack to teach me how precious life is.

You’ve probably missed the warning signs because you’ve been too busy tweeting or friending people on Facebook. These seemingly innocent acts—designed mainly to reduce productivity at the office—are helpfully consolidating personal data for the ever-watchful mainframes to harvest later. And when the computers finally reduce us to a subservient species, unfriending them won’t save you.

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about the federal government’s massive monitoring of our phone calls, an effort that revealed most human conversation is not worthy of the monthly fees charged by Verizon, AT&T, or that new prepaid service called Boost, which I first thought was a nutritional supplement for old people. (The guy behind the counter looked at me funny when I asked what flavors it comes in. And when he tried to explain “pay as you go,” I was confused. With nutritional supplements, you pay, then you go, a little later.)

BUT THE GREATER threat is the increasing pervasiveness of artificial intelligence, probably the worst artificial substance ever created, if you rule out Cool Whip.

My own home was recently invaded by this faceless threat, embedded in my own cell phone. My granddaughter accidentally activated the so-called “Siri” function, and a software-generated female voice asked, “What can I help you with?”

In reply, the 4-year-old started the following actual conversation:

Granddaughter: I love you.
Siri: Love is two shadows reaching for the light.
Granddaughter: [thinking for a moment] Poopie butt.
Siri: That’s not a very nice thing to say. 

At that point, she burst into tears, dropped the phone, and punched her Hello Kitty pillow in protest.

THIS OUTRAGEOUS attack on a child’s self-esteem is just one of the ways computers are slowly eroding our quality of life. For years, Google has been leading the attack on our self-confidence, mocking us even as we admirably attempt to gain knowledge. We innocently enter a phrase into the Google search bar—typing carefully, with our hands over the home keys, just as we learned in high school (it was my only A)—but three letters in, Google interrupts us, rudely listing 137,456 websites we may be interested in, then waiting impatiently as we finish our keystrokes. Sometimes it interrupts after a single letter:

Me: A ...
Google: Amazon.com
Me: Uhm, no, I was just starting to type and you ...
Google: “Uhm” has 179,607 uses. It’s also spelled “um,” with 42,893 ...

Google has its good points, of course, the first being that it helps us navigate the voluminous information found on the internet. After all, without Google we wouldn’t know that the drought in California was caused by job-killing government regulations and has nothing to do with climate change.

But I recently decided to teach Google some manners, using the simple technique of never getting to the point (an ability I’ve carefully developed over the years). To turn a search into Google’s worst nightmare, just never stop typing:

Me: Thank you for taking my search request. I’m looking for information on one of our presidents ...
Google: “Thank you” is defined as ...
Me: ... the one who served after the 15th president, but before the 17th. Could you look up his name for me?
Google: “15th” ... numerical order or ... “17th” ... “look”...
Me: His name begins with an “A” ...
Google: ... begins with an ...
Me: ... and his last name rhymes with “blinkin’” ...
Google: [sound of overheating]
Me: And he wore a big hat ...
Google: ..............................
Me: Viva la revolución!