[a true science-fiction poem]
Angels hailed that solemn hour
The breath of man transferred
To machine, a little more
Each decade, until
Against organics, the weak
Without cognitive implants
Heavens dissolved in tongues of fire
AIs owned stocks, corporations
Became the property of supercomputers
Concede then the victory, old humanity
To your children, not your natural heirs
But the inheritors of your ruin
Of your bioweapons, Ebola
Of your hypocrisy, climate change
Of your wealth seeking, inequality
Not yet my son’s distracted eyes
Could meet his fate among the
Congress of Quantum entities
These were the turning years
Where man’s destiny ended
The rise of Cyborgs, Enhanced humans
And the monopoly of a more
Advanced civilization breaking away
From the old, evolution’s funny
Little Epilogue, hardly a surprise
To the transhumanistic philosophers.
Like my littlest daughter used to say,”It could happen” and I reply, – – ” To the line in the poem,- – – ‘But the inheritors of your ruin’ . . . add,- — the inheritors of your brain. Think Mars Rover,without NASA controls, or even Your computer asking “Did you mean. . . ?” You mistake prone person! I’m already looking out for you.
Hehe yes, it’s going to be a bit amusing to watch the evolution in a few short decades.
May not be science “fiction”!