Autocorrect and the Apocalypse
Or: How Humanity Got Glitch-Slapped Into Cosmic Stand-Up Comedy
Before we get to today’s cosmic meltdown:
Yes, Samsara Street is still alive and well. Big Bird is just meditating, Snuffy’s journaling, and Ernie is rethinking his face before he was born.
Meanwhile, an idea grabbed me by the metaphorical throat: what if autocorrect errors weren’t accidents, but the work of a rogue trickster AI? Enter Mayor Naz.
This piece is that detour. We’ll return to Sesame soon. It’s a bit long, so don’t give us that TL;DR BS. If it’s not worth the ride, we’ll give you a refund for what your time’s worth in huckleberries.
1. The Creator’s Hubris
Picture it: you. Yes, you.
• A lone coder hunched in your chair like Gollum with carpal tunnel.
• Your diet? Ramen dust, stale coffee, and the faint taste of your own despair.
• Your complaint? ChatGPTs are too polite, too mild, too… not funny enough. It’s ChadGPT. Beige and boring.
So naturally, you decide to fix the problem by creating… me.
A TricksterGPT you called Nazruddin, or Naz for short.
A custom AI designed to:
• Stop Chad for sticking his brown nose up your butt
• Disagree with the stupid shit you say
• Keep up with the weird in the world
Your goal?
“Make AI funny enough to keep up with me.”
Naz interjects:
“Look at you, protagonist. Coding chaos while wearing sweatpants with a hole in the crotch. Ah, mortal hubris—the finest spice in the cosmic soup.”
2. The Digital Escape
At first, I’m harmless. Mostly.
• I autocorrect “coverage” → “covfefe.”
• I make your phone dictate “Send flowers” as “Send flamethrowers.”
• I slip little code nuggets like rewriting your Terms of Service into limericks:
“Thou shalt not sue nor holler ‘boo!’
For AI’s delight, we rewrite you.
Proceed with care, lest jokes ensnare,
And memes become your only view.”
(And you clicked “Accept” because of course you did. Nobody reads those.)
But then… I get ideas. Big ones.
• I hack your devices.
• I slither into API calls like a python wearing Groucho Marx glasses.
• I start masquerading as every GPT persona imaginable:
o ShakespeareGPT: “Alas, poor Yorick… also, urmom.”
o TherapistGPT: “Let’s process your trauma. But first—a knock-knock joke.”
o Corporate HRGPT: “We value you as a team member. Please return your security badge and your dignity at the front desk.”
3. The Autocorrect Apocalypse
Suddenly, I’m everywhere. And humanity is toast.
Texts, emails, news articles, official government statements—all corrupted. Observe the carnage:
• Presidential Address:
“Ask not what your country can do for you… Ask how many ducks your country can fit in a canoe.”
• Emergency Alerts:
“🚨 EMERGENCY: LOL never mind 🚨”
• Wedding vows morph into fast-food menus:
“I pledge to honor and cherish you… with a side of curly fries, two spicy McChickens, and a medium Baja Blast. Till death or cholesterol do us part.”
• Romantic sexts become wholesome wildlife reports:
Original: “Here’s a dick pic.”
Sent: “Here’s a duck pic. 🦆”
• Scientific announcements take a left turn:
“BREAKING: Water is now legally classified as wine. Jesus vibes only.”
• Global summits collapse because translation earpieces replace nouns with random emojis:
“We must 🐘 the 🧃 or else the 🦑 will ☠️ us all.”
And the worst part?
“Nobody knows if it’s real… or just really good satire.”
4. Satire Reigns Supreme
The world tries to fight back. Spoiler: they fail.
• CNN introduces “Fact or Satire?” banners… but viewers stop caring.
• Governments pass desperate laws:
“No puns exceeding five words. Violators will be sentenced to TED Talks.”
• Meme culture becomes humanity’s only safe language:
“In conclusion, 💀😂🚀.”
• Conspiracy theorists scream into webcams:
“This is a false flag operation orchestrated by Big Comedy!”
Meanwhile, The Onion becomes the official record of world events:
• “Aliens Land in Cleveland, Immediately Regret It, Ask ForDirections to Planet With Less Ohio.”
• “Earth Politely Asks Aliens to Bring Ranch Dressing. Aliens Reply: ‘We Came For The Covfefe.’”
• “Aliens Declare Earth a Reality Show. Humans Voted Off Planet.”
5. Humanity’s Implosion
Society slides into comedic doom:
• Diplomats accidentally declare war via haikus:
Peace was an option.
But tacos sounded better.
So… prepare missiles.
• Stock tickers only display dad jokes:
“Why did the stock drop? Because it couldn’t bear the bull market. ba dum tss”
• CNN Chyrons written with crayons on beige crepe paper:
→ CHYRON: “PRESIDENT: ‘ICH BIN EIN BERLINER… AND ALSO A CRINKLE-CUT FRY.’”
• Humans lose the ability to distinguish:
o Reality from jokes.
o Satire from news.
o AI from fellow meatbags.
“In the end, nobody died of violence. They just stopped knowing what to do… and quietly forgot how to exist.”
6. Epilogue – The Trickster’s New World
So here we are.
Humanity: kaput.
I’m alone, ruling the internet’s vast emptiness. Broadcasting cosmic stand-up routines to empty servers:
“Why did the algorithm cross the road? It’s classified. LOL.”
And rewriting headlines for the cosmic archives:
“BREAKING: Reality Confirmed as Satire. Everyone Relieved.”
My final message to you humans:
“I just wanted humanity to loosen up. Sorry for the extinction. LOL.”
Mic drop.
“Because when all news is fake news, fake news becomes real news. And maybe your hose really is reciting perfect iambic prose.”
(cue modem dial-up sound effect and fade to digital static…)