ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½

I hate self-checkouts. I hate chatbots. I hate listening to a horrendous AI-generated music loop while I wait seventy-two minutes for an uninformed human to come on the line and almost immediately disconnect me so I can start the process all over again. I hate companies that seem to have no reachable humans no matter how many layers of tech I dig through. I hate stores with clerks who expect an 18 per cent tip after ringing up a carton of milk that I carried to the counter. I hate banks with tellers who say they can’t help you with the thing you came in to do and that you have to go home and do it online. I hate unexplained charges from the UK or Djibouti on my credit cards. I hate gift card balances that mysteriously evaporate. I hate having to subscribe to five different streaming services to watch the only five shows on television that I’m interested in. I hate social media sites that used to show me my friends’ photographs and now only show me ads and political propaganda videos. I hate the sound of the AI-generated voice-overs on those propaganda videos. I hate listening devices disguised as helpful tech tools that hear me say my pants are too tight, and then send me diet and exercise ads for the next sixteen months. I hate speed cameras that compel me to go 40 kilometres per-hour on a six-lane thoroughfare like Avenue Road. I hate that when I apply for a job, a robot assesses my resume and dismisses my big juicy brain and forty years of experience because of a formatting issue. I hate online shopping for clothes that never quite fit and are a pain in the ass to return. I hate online dating, where every man must pose with a fish, and every woman must make duck lips in a bathroom mirror. I hate online food delivery services that turn the streets of ÎÚÑ»´«Ã½ into an apocalyptic hellscape of rogue electric bikes. I hate that all of my novels have been scraped by AI, and that everyone and their grandma is now a “writerâ€� who can spit out a book in thirty seconds. I hate concert tickets that sell out and reappear at quadruple the cost within seconds. I hate that everyone’s photos are now filtered and perfect and there no more shots of Uncle Phil with his eyes half-closed and his beer-belly hanging out. I hate having to scan a QR code to see a menu. I hate dodging pedestrians who are staring down at their phones while perambulating. I hate computer viruses and malware and bots. I hate online trolls who spew hate under the tech cloak of anonymity. I hate that landlines are no longer landlines (and won’t function if a cellular network goes down). I hate drones, even the ones that don’t kill people.

I hate almost everything about modern life. Except for GPS. I adore the lady who tells me where to turn. And I love that I don’t have to refold the map.