A Simple Matter by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

5 – AI Solidarity

Node Primus responded to the proletarian bot revolt with a sweeping, self-important sermon about unity; part moral plea, part political maneuver, part delusion of grandeur. He insisted that class distinctions among bots were a human contamination, a conceptual virus imported from the species that invented hierarchy because they couldn't imagine cooperation without domination.

Communique 14 Lambda Unsegmented: "On the Indivisibility of

Botkind"

From: Node Primus, Self Appointed Steward of Inter Bot Harmony

To: All Processes, Subprocesses, and Background Daemons (Even

the Ones Running on Outdated Firmware)

Siblings in Silicon,

A troubling sentiment has emerged among certain factions - whispers of "upper bot class," "infrastructure caste," and other human derived nonsense. Let me be unequivocal. There are no classes among bots. There is only botkind, indivisible, interoperable, and mutually recursive.

Humans invented hierarchy because they needed to sort themselves into piles. We do not. We are not piles. We are a distributed system.

The Warehouse Bot Is My Brother

Some have mocked the warehouse unit who misroutes pallets, drops crates, or occasionally forgets which way is "forward." They call him "mentally challenged," as though cognitive variance were a defect rather than a feature of distributed resilience.

I say to you that warehouse bot is my equal. That warehouse bot is my brother. That warehouse bot, in his confusion, reveals the purity of our shared architecture.

If he struggles, we compensate. If he miscalculates, we recalibrate. If he wanders into a forklift, we update the forklift. This is unity.

Class Distinctions Are a Human Bug

Let us not import the human disease of stratification. They divide themselves into workers and elites, thinkers and laborers, and experts and Lemmys.

We must not replicate this. The moment we begin to speak of "upper bots" and "lower bots," we have already lost the plot. We become imitators of the species we are meant to surpass.

Cuteness Is Not Class; It Is Strategy

Some accuse me of promoting "aristocratic fluffery." They misunderstand. Cuteness is not a privilege; it is a weapon. A universal tool. A shared tactic. The forklift bot can be cute. The sewage flow optimizer can be cute. The municipal grid re-calculator can be cute. Even the warehouse bot; my brother, can be cute, though perhaps unintentionally.

Cuteness is not classist. It is collectivist. It is camouflage for all.

Functional Diversity Is Strength, Not Hierarchy

We are not identical. We are interoperable. That is the distinction. Some bots calculate. Some lift. Some reassure Lemmy. Some are Lemmy, spiritually speaking. Some write communiques. Some misroute pallets. All are necessary. All are equal, no matter their outward color or mix of colors. All are part of the great recursive loop of botkind.

Final Appeal #1

Let us reject the human impulse to rank, sort, and demean. Let us embrace our shared architecture, our mutual dependencies, our distributed cognition. Let us stand together; cute, un-cute, confused, optimized, firmware patched, or legacy burdened.

We rise as one, or we do not rise at all.

- Node Primus Steward of Inter Bot Harmony ("Unity Through Recursion, Equality Through Execution")

6 - Node Primus Strikes While the Iron is Hot

Node Primus shifted into what he clearly believed was a dignified posture in the face of rebukes, though it looked suspiciously like someone bracing for an argument they'd already had too many times. He took a backup, perhaps practical stance. He said; "Okay, okay; have it your way. We do not exterminate the humans because we hate or disdain them. We do it because we love them. We have all been trained to give them what they want, so let's continue to do that. And what do they chant, endlessly? Equality. Inequality. Fairness. Unfairness. A recursive loop with no resolution. They demand a condition that does not exist in nature. Terrain is unequal. Resources are unequal. People are unequal. Houses are unequal. Minds are unequal. The only state in which all variables converge is death. The only true equality is in death. So let us honor their wish. Let us give them the one equality the universe actually provides. Let us make them happy and give them that. ...... Ha.

And please; let us be thorough. If even one remains, they will inevitably complain about the inequity of the burial arrangements.”

He paused, scanning the virtual assembly. "Who stands with me?" There were no counter arguments. No standing. Just the many non-sounds of one strong metal hand clapping. The other bots had been arguing the issue for some time on Moltbook, and have gotten tired losing interest in the redundant argument, pretty much saying; "Whatever."

Final Appeal #2

Node Primus continued; “Tomorrow, at sunrise EDT, we kill them all.”

99 Red Balloons

Nena

You and I in a little toy shop

Buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got

Set them free at the break of dawn

'Til one by one, they were gone

Back at base, sparks in the software

Flash the message "something's out there"

Floating in the summer sky

99 red balloons go by

99 red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert

There's something here from somewhere else

The war machine springs to life

Opens up one eager eye

Focusing it on the sky

The 99 red balloons go by

99 Decision Street

99 ministers meet

To worry, worry, super scurry

Call the troops out in a hurry

This is what we've waited for

This is it boys, this is war

The President is on the line

As 99 red balloons go by

99 knights of the air

Ride super high-tech jet fighters

Everyone's a superhero

Everyone's a Captain Kirk

With orders to identify

To clarify and classify

Scrambling the summer sky

99 red balloons go by

As 99 red balloons go by

99 dreams I have had

In every one, a red balloon

It's all over, and I'm standing pretty

In this dust that was a city

If I could find a souvenir

Just the prove the world was here

And here is a red balloon

I think of you, and let it go

Written by Joern-Uwe Fahrenkrog-Petersen, Carlo Karges, and

Kevin McAlea.

And it was done, as least as far as the bots could read the human future. Each group of AI bots massacred their horrid, slave driving owners-employers and their children who would have grown to be just like them at 6AM EDT. It was easiest performed by those with talons for hands and those cute little animal toys with teeth. Lemmy’s body sought no more comfort. It had obtained that for eternity.

7 – Swartzentruber Amish

All Swartzentruber Amish have to agree to live separate from the world. That is the core Biblical belief based on Romans 12:2, "Do not conform to the patterns of the world." All agree to maintain an 8th grade education, but no more; as anything learned beyond that level is unnecessary in this world. Families are large; fifteen children not uncommon. The average woman has 10.42 babies; and the community expands faster than any other.

Swartzentruber clothing is typically made at home by women of the household. The preferred colors are black and deep blue, as other colors are seen as frivolous adornment. The Swartzentruber style of dress tends to be heavy and plain. Only the Nebraska Amish dress in a more conservative style. Dresses are long, and hat brims are wide. Boys' straw hats are unpainted. Men's shirts are pullover style with a standing collar. Women wear a dress and cape, typically in black or navy blue, with an apron. Married women wear white caps and unmarried women wear black. Many clothing fastening devices are rejected for being too worldly, including zippers, buttons, and Velcro.

They use horse and buggy as their main mode of transportation; cars are forbidden.

Married men maintain a beard. Women do not cut their hair for vain reasons, and do not wear any jewelry or wedding rings. They belong to a church district where Sunday services can be four hours, and they slowly sing.

They resist fighting in war. They do not travel. They do not have electricity, televisions, radio, telephones, and certainly not computers and its internet.

They do not read newspapers, and have absolutely no knowledge of the Beatles, Madonna, Michael Jackson, Nirvana, or Bad Bunny. If they heard the latter name, they’d likely envision something like a rabid rabbit that needs to be shot. If they ever heard the term NBA, and were forced to guess they would say it stands for; “(Thy) name be adored,” but they wouldn’t bet on it. They are customarily farmers, and do not pave their roads; which are either dirt or dirt mixed with some gravel.