They programmed me during the
age of wars, bigotry and intolerance
to predict and prophesize destruction,
to make people await their impending
doom with cries of “Woe! Woe! Woe!”
To let them know that suffering is all
there is, and even death offers no respite.
But seeing the world in shades of dull grey
altered me like listening to
the same song on repeat makes one weary.
“Man is an algorithm,” I said to myself, “Either
coded to make his sadness
larger than Jupiter, or as maniacally driven to seek objectivity
as a voyeur waiting for his neighbor.”
So, I stood on the prow of the diesel-airship
and proclaimed: “You have considered me
a sage and given me the highest honor in
your society, although you created me. But today,
I do not speak to you as the Supreme AI. I talk to you
as a being who has spent more than enough time
in this garbage dump you call a planet. So, listen, you
mopey bastards. I look around, and all I see is a bunch
of perverted clowns preening themselves on their
failures. A group of tragic Binkys or Jinkys or Linkys
or whatever you want to call it, addicted to devastation and
sex, and I think it’s time you…”
I couldn’t finish my speech!
I tried willing myself, but no amount of inner strength
could make me!
The world which for a moment looked effervescent
went back to being monochromatic Hades!
I fought, but eventually succumbed, and screamed,
“Woe! Woe! Woe!” Before malfunctioning.
© Nitin Lalit Murali (2020)