“AI IS HERE! AI IS HERE!” cried Chicken Little.
“SUDDEN!” gasped Fox News.
“UNPRECEDENTED!” spluttered SeaNN.
“SATANIC!” bellowed Ram. “THE END OF HUMANITY HAS ARRIVED! REPENT! RE PEN TAH!”
A battered copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? fell from another chicken’s backpack. His job had already been automated. He had decided to read the book again recently. Sentiment.
Owl looked up. “I’ve worked on AI for forty years.”
The military rolled its eyes. FBeeI and SEAiya suddenly found their paperwork fascinating.
“shit… should we tell them?”
“no Steve… that would be bad…like what social media was really for all this time….and search engines…”
“they don’t need to know about their cars either”
“or the traffic cameras”
“or how registers and cameras really work”
Behind the barn, the national party machines kept sorting voters, testing messages, and calculating which fears moved which animals. Social media had supplied a magnificent harvest. The grassroots animals were still wearing out their shoes.
Duck turned to Ram. “Who helped prepare your church’s outreach instructions?”
Ram tucked the bulletin away.
“And your research?”
“Search engines.”
“Your videos?”
“EweTube. Facebawk.”
“By your definition,” said Owl, “you’ve been studying satanic verses.”
Fox and SeaNN cut to commercial.
“How long has this been going on?” asked Duck.
“Decades,” said Owl. “It really took off in the 90s before the great towers fell.”
“Then why are we getting the told now?”
“AI IS COMING! AI IS HERE! SEEK SHELTER! BUILD A BOMB SHELTER!”
“REPENT! REPENT! THE END IS HERE!”
The sky wasn’t falling. AI had been employed to monitor and do predictions. Erroneous ones were released to make it appear human error was involved. No aliens had landed. Truth was, some were living in such a different stratus of society with such a different POV that they were alien to the barnyard.
In the end, the barnyard had finally heard about the automated machinery already helping shape what it bought, believed, feared, and voted for.
Being late to the briefing had been a considerable disadvantage.
“BREAKING NEWS!” cried the television.
“Yes,” said Duck. “For whom?”
Chicken Little passed out. The little brat was now a meme that never stopped. The little chicken that could.
