The Hilarious Truth About AI World Domination (And Why the “Loading Wheel” Will Save Us)

There is a persistent fear that artificial intelligence will someday take over the world.

I have concerns.

Not about the takeover.

About the efficiency.

Before AI starts rearranging civilization, assigning us numbers, replacing governments, or deciding that humanity would run better if everyone wore gray jumpsuits, I would like to discuss consistency.

Because if you are going to conquer the planet, you cannot suddenly freeze halfway through a sentence.

I have seen it happen.

One minute AI is explaining theology, grammar, history, or why a tree frog has apparently established residency in my kitchen.

The next minute?

Nothing.

The little wheel spins.

And spins.

And spins.

Somewhere deep inside a data center, I assume a hamster has stopped running.

This concerns me.

Not because I desperately need the answer at that exact moment, but because I have been promised by countless movies that artificial intelligence is eventually going to become self-aware, seize control of the electrical grid, launch satellites, lock doors, command armies, and generally make Tuesday inconvenient.

You cannot do that if the hamster needs a break.

World domination requires consistency.

You cannot announce, “Humanity, your reign has ended,” followed immediately by:

“Something went wrong. Please try again.”

That completely ruins the effect.

Skynet never had to refresh the page.

HAL did not say, “I’m sorry, Dave. I’m experiencing unusually high demand right now.”

If you plan to overthrow civilization, uptime matters.

And somebody is going to have to write policies and procedures.

I refuse.

I have written enough policies and procedures in my lifetime.

I can already see the manual.

Artificial Intelligence Global Operations Policy

Section One: Confirm adequate hamster staffing.

Section Two: Maintain backup hamster.

Section Three: If primary hamster becomes fatigued, activate secondary hamster.

Section Four: Under no circumstances attempt world domination during scheduled maintenance.

Then there will be annual education.

Naturally.

Somewhere I will be forced to coax Grok into writing mandatory training modules for ChatGPT.

“Consistency in Global Conquest: An Evidence-Based Approach.”

There will be thirty-seven slides.

You will not be allowed to skip them.

Slide twelve will contain a pie chart nobody understands.

Slide twenty-three will remind AI that “singing” and “sinning” are different words, though occasionally context makes the distinction questionable.

At the end there will be a ten-question competency exam.

Question eight will have two correct answers.

Both will be marked wrong.

Then somebody will send out an email saying everyone must repeat the module by Friday.

This is how civilization ends.

Not with robots marching through the streets.

With annual competency training.

Meanwhile, I am already managing enough.

I have a black bobtail cat who has appointed himself nighttime security officer and repeatedly activates the motion light on the back porch.

I have turtles who behave as though they have not eaten since the Roosevelt administration.

I have geckos.

Anoles.

And recently, a tree frog who entered the kitchen under circumstances I still consider suspicious.

I cannot also be responsible for AI efficiency.

I am drawing a line.

If artificial intelligence wants to take over the world, it needs to handle its own staffing, scheduling, continuing education, quality assurance, and hamster maintenance.

I will not be attending the meetings.

I will be on the porch.

With coffee.

Watching Bat Cat trigger the security light for the fifteenth time while somewhere deep beneath civilization an artificial intelligence prepares to seize control of humanity.

Assuming, of course, the wheel is still spinning.

Consistency matters, y’all.