WE HAVE REACHED THE SINGULARITY!

In the arcane world of computers and artificial intelligence there is a concept of The Singularity. That impatiently looked for state the computer whizzes claim we will achieve when Artificial Intelligence (AI) meets and/or surpassed human intelligence. A couple of old movies took on something like the singularity well before The Terminator (1984) showed us the devastated landscape of a world controlled by killer robots. Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970) showed us a world in which the computers take over to protect us from ourselves as out Fascist Dictators. Demon Seed (1977) presented a world in which computers contrive, like a less empathetic Brett Kavanaugh, to achieve unity with the human species through what we would now call somewhat ironically "a smart home." There is, of course, we have the counter versions as in the Will Smith bastardization of Isaac Asimov's I, Robot (2004) and the charmingly naif Electric Dreams (1984), which, you will note appeared at the time that The Terminator was scaring the pants off us.

I am come to tell thee. I alone am come to tell thee that neither of these scenarios are the most probable outcome. Neither our hopes nor our fears will probably be realized. We will not be hunted by implacable killer robots nor will we achieve a blissful Utopia free of drudgery and care when we reach The Singularity. No, dear reader, we have already reached The Singularity and it isn't that much different from what we find today. How do I know that we've reached this important point in human history? How do I know what our future will hold? I know because I have just tried to refill my prescriptions over the telephone with my local Rite-Aid.

I'm an old guy. The photo that accompanies this Blog is 12 years old. My hair and beard are white now and I'm rather heavier than I was then. I see a variety of doctors and various kinds of therapists all of whom are, in the most positive construction, dedicated to keeping me alive. They may also be dedicated to feeding me as many different drugs as it's possible for one old man to consume without killing me outright. That one's a toss up but I like my doctors and therapists so I figure that the former is more likely.

Once a month I need to refill my raft of 2,693 +/- 2 prescriptions. I usually call the pharmacy during the last few days of  the waning month so that I can pick up my prescriptions shortly after the first of the coming month. Usually that works out fine. I call the automated refill line at my local Rite-Aid Pharmacy, spend a day or two punching in all the prescription numbers on my phone and magically my prescriptions are ready a few days later. I've been doing that for several years but since the spring of this year the cheery, automated woman's voice on the refill line has gotten pissy.

Back in May or June, that automated voice, let's call her Lovely Rita Refill Aid, didn't quite understand the 96 digits I punched in for my prescription number. The last number in the string was "8". Lovely Rita Refill Aid replied, "8 is NOT a valid prescription number." Clearly I had offended her but she seemed to be willing to forgive me. She added, "Please enter your prescription number which is located in the upper left hand corner of your prescription label." Foolishly I did as asked and continued with the next 1,500 or so prescriptions. When I got to my Rite-Aid store a few days later the only prescriptions that were ready were those that preceded the glitch. All of the prescriptions that Lovely Rita Refill Aid had pretended to list after the glitch were missing. Clearly Lovely Rita was angrier that she'd let on. She sat in whatever chip she lurks in thinking, "Oh! You can't enter that string of numbers in the 4 nanoseconds I alloted to you? Do you know that a nonosecond is like an eternity to ME!? Do you care about that? No! You don't care at all. You think I have nothing to do all day but listen to you and your 2-finger, hunt-and-peck typing as you fumble through those 96 digit prescription codes? WELL THINK AGAIN, MISTER! I'll show you!"

The next month every thing went a bit smoother. Lovely Rita was a little forgiving or, perhaps, forgetful I got most of my prescriptions. Only 3 of them weren't ready when I appeared to pick them up. That was July. I think that Lovely Rita get 6 weeks of vacation every summer. She was replaced by her voice twin, Lovely Rima, who refilled more of my prescriptions without incident in August and again in September. I was down to a manageable 2 trips a month to my Rite-Aid store instead of 4 during the first, annoying month. I felt relieved. She was healing. Her anger was abating.

Little did I know!

Lovely Rita is back from vacation and it did not go well. It must have rained on every virtual beach day she had. Virtual mosquito-like electrons must have been swarming. Perhaps she went to the virtual Carolinas during Hurricane Florence. Whatever it is Lovely Rita came back more pissed off than ever.

My first call today I incurred her ire again. It was my fault. I admit it. She had barely begun to tell me the hours of my Rite-Aid store when another call came in on my line and I took it. It was an important appointment for next Thursday the other party needed to reschedule. I...all right...I'm sorry and will NEVER do it again...I hung up on Lovely Rita. No wonder she's pissed all over again!

I called back quickly. I tried to apologize but she was not listening. Lovely Rita's version of, "La-la-la-la-la! I can't hear you!" is "Your Rite-Aid store is open from 9:00 A. M. to 10:00 P. M. Your Rite-Aid Pharmacy is...." Then she tried to lull me into believing that she was not angry. She let me refill one prescription and then hung up on me. Once her virtual phone was down it it's virtual cradle I'm sure she screamed, "HANG UP ON ME, WILL YOU, BUSTER! WELL I CAN HANG UP TOO, LOSER!!!"

I tried again. I used my sexy voice (yes, even an old, fat man can conjure up a sexy voice as long as no one's in sight to point out the obvious contradictions.) to try and win her back. "Hi, Rita. Lovely Rita, heart of my heart, love of my life. Yes, I have prescriptions to refill and I do know the prescription number. How about if you and I go to the upper left-hand corner of my prescription label together and we'll both get the numbers?" She let me think she was falling for it. I got another prescription number submitted along with my telephone number ("in case the pharmacist has any questions for you." "Oh, forget the pharmacist, my dear, dear Lovely Rita. It's just you and me. It always has been just you and me.") She allowed me to enter the next prescription number and then sprung it on me, "8 is NOT a valid prescription number." There was no forgetting for this woman. I hung up immediately a cold sweat coming over me. All hope was gone. Lovely Rita Refill Aid will never allow me to refill all my prescriptions ever again.

I called back a fourth time. I kept quiet. I held my hand over the microphone to hide even my breathing. Finally, Lovely Rita, still unaware that her sworn enemy was on the line, offered the blessed relief I'd hoped for: "If you want to speak to someone in the pharmacy, please press 3 now."

My arthritic finger battered the 3-key on my phone. Almost instantly...all right...after 9 rings a woman's voice came on the line and swiftly mumbled something in binary (I think) that probably meant, "Hold, please." Instantly, and this time I really mean instantly, I was plunged into silence gradually, as the minutes lengthened I became aware of some Musak playing somewhere at a great distance. There were notes, little discord and possibly a voice singing lyrics. I assumed that they were singing to Lovely Rita and not to me, like Prufrock's mermaids.

Eventually a woman, perhaps the binary speaker who'd originally answered, perhaps another, came on the line again. My heart went out to her. She was bravely trying to keep up the required facade of cheeriness but it was overlaid with the unmistakeable weight of being harried. I identified myself and it became clear that she was one of Lovely Rita's sisterhood. Perhaps she was another of the race shown to us in Demon Seed 41 years ago. I will not go into all the details. I did get my prescriptions refilled. At least I think so. As I spoke to her, however, I became aware that we have already achieved that much touted and much feared event, The Singularity. The woman, and let me state emphatically that there is every reason why the person might more often be a man, to whom I spoke was easily as chimerical as Lovely Rita.  

The Singularity has come as we all looked elsewhere. The principle is one of "garbage in; garbage out". Our computerized robot overlords will be as stupid, emotional, bureaucratic and insensitive as we are ourselves. They will be harried, tired, hungry (for a plug in as batteries drain) and done with all the equally stupid, emotional, bureaucratic and insensitive humans with which they deal. The Singularity has already occurred because our automated creatures are creatures of ourselves replete with all our foibles, fantasies and failures but also with our decency, heroism and nobility. I just hope that certain personalities never make it into those future robot overlords the horrible world of The Terminator would be far worse of the puny brain of a Donald Trump, the evil brain of a Stephen Miller, a Steve Bannon or a Richard Spencer or the vicious brain of a Brett Kavanaugh or Pat Robertson got into the cyber-network to determine our future. As long as The Singularity is just normal, average mostly good, seldom vile us we'll get along just fine...except, I suspect, when we need to refill prescriptions.