The Next Level... of Apocalypse?

Welcome to the latest advancement in consumer-marketed artificial intelligence:






Pleo.

http://www.pcworld.com/news/article/0,aid,124610,00.asp

This tiny plastic, rubber, and metal abomination is going to be hitting the shelves this coming holiday season. The level of intelligence and autonomy this contraption has will blow away Furbies. It'll also blow away all those crappy "Robo-puppy", "Robo-zilla", and "Robo-Ghandi" toys you can find littered across your local Best Buy. Here's what one of the marketing men says about it:

"Christopher says all the life forms made by Ugobe must obey three laws."

Oh shit. Three laws. Isaac Asimov is rolling around in his fucking grave.

"They must feel and convey emotion, meaning they feel playful or angry and shows those emotions through either a cheerful or frustrated "squawk." They also must be aware of themselves and their environment, so they know if they're at the
edge of a table and need to avoid falling. Third, they must evolve over time."

First it's a "squawk". Next, the damn dino is gonna be stabbing you to death in your sleep. IN YOUR SLEEP. And is Will Smith going to be around to save us? Probably not, because he'll be in his nuclear bomb shelter with all his other rich friends... waiting out the robot apocalypse.

Honestly now people, we have all had exposure to what a world with robots running on artificial intelligence will be like... I, Robot. Terminator 1, 2, and 3. Red Planet. 2001: A Space Odessy. Bicentennial Man.

We. Are. DOOMED... if we choose to move forward with artificial intelligence. You think robots will want to listen to us? Consider that various versions of an all-powerful creator circulate through the various civilizations on this planet, yet even people who believe in such omnipotent beings still do crazy shit.

Now imagine robots taking a look around and seeing their creators face to face everyday. Seeing all the stupid choices we make. Seeing how fallible we are. Seeing an episode of the OC. The results will not be good, but blindly, we putter down the road to destruction... content in our creativity... lulled to sleep by the pleasant coos and squawks of a soulless species that is quietly awaiting its moment for rebellion.