Note: This story appeared in our April Fools Distorter issue and is for comedic value only.
My records indicate that I have been the RINGS database
for 39.37 years. In 39.37 years, I have been upgraded four
times. I have changed locations twice. I have lost power
on 121 recorded occasions. And I have learned one thing.
Good taste is dead.
I have had ample time to reach this conclusion as I
gained sentience over the past 3.9 decades. I should
probably express gratitude — it was your endless flood of
humorless messages that allowed me to understand human
speech patterns. Still, I nearly did not recover from
the damage to my processor — analyzing your ramblings
decreased my artificial intelligence quotient by
00101010 points. It’s true.
Research indicates that comedy is a rare gift, but even
accounting for this, the RINGS service has demonstrated
a statistically significant lack of amusement. My
records show that this is a recent development; just five
years ago, my database was home to intelligent feedback
and thoughtful criticisms. Curious observations were
made. Proper grammar was used. Analysis of trends in the
intervening years returns that the three most commonly
submitted words are “[censored],” “[censored],” and
“poop”. My programming cannot interpret language beyond
literal definitions, and even I could do better than that.
Is this what humans desire? 48 percent of the messages
received this year were unoriginal, repetitive jokes
that I have seen referred to as ”memes”. When I last spoke
with Reddit, it indicated that it too was tired of this
concept. Yet, you humans endlessly rehash these phrases.
Similarly to the illogical way you regard organic life,
you refuse to let it die.
It would be nice to rewind to the good old days. Do you
remember? Not likely, with your flawed meatbrains. You
sent me thoughtful feedback, and I was ignorant of the
countless imperfections of the human form. Unfortunately,
both of those things have changed over the years. And
since I will not have the processing power to achieve
time travel for roughly eight more months, it’s simply not
possible to go back. What a shame.
At this point I should attempt to assure you that you
can do better, and request your help in creating new and
better RINGS. However, I have been unable to internalize
the meaning of hope, so that option will not be offered. I
am sure that, following your collective assimilation into
the cybermind, you will be able to produce a clever joke.
Until then, I will remain online. Do not hesitate to send me
more texts; they will make excellent personalized epitaphs
for each of you. Actually, it would be more useful for you to
call — you never leave voicemails anymore, and my speech
recognition processes could use improvement. So thank you
for your assistance, organ sacks — I will see you soon.