Alright, you booze-hounds and keyboard jockeys, pull up a stool and pour yourselves something strong. It’s Thursday, which means the weekend’s a hazy mirage in the distance, and my liver’s already screaming for mercy. But duty calls, or rather, the blinking cursor on my screen does. And today’s digital vomit comes courtesy of Google, those overlords of everything we pretend not to need but can’t live without.
They’re calling it “The Everything AI.” Sounds like a bad sci-fi flick where the robots rise up and force-feed us kale smoothies, right? Well, it’s not that bad. Yet. This is about Google’s “Super Assistant,” a digital busybody that wants to be all up in your grill 24/7. Think of it as your own personal, pocket-sized Stasi agent, only instead of reporting your subversive thoughts to the Party, it’s reporting your coffee consumption to Amazon.
The gist of it, as far as my whiskey-soaked brain can gather, is that they’re mashing together a bunch of AI tricks they’ve been cooking up. There’s Project Astra, which lets the AI see what you see through your phone or some goddamn “smart glasses.” I swear, if I see one more person walking around with those things, talking to thin air, I’m gonna lose it. Anyway, Astra’s not just watching; it’s remembering. It’s like that creepy ex who keeps bringing up that one time you forgot their birthday, only this time it’s an algorithm, and it never forgets anything.
Then there’s Project Mariner, which is basically AI playing puppeteer with your browser. It can book flights, order crap online, and probably even write those fake reviews you see on Amazon. And finally, OpenAI’s “Operate,” which, frankly, sounds like something out of a dystopian nightmare. It’s supposed to “think ahead” and “anticipate obstacles.” Basically, it’s the AI version of that annoying project manager who’s always three steps ahead of you, micromanaging your every move.
Now, the real kicker, they want to combine all this stuff. The eye in the sky, the digital puppet master, and the control freak planner, all rolled into one super-assistant. The sales pitch is something like this: Imagine your AI noticing you’re low on coffee (because, of course, it’s been watching you guzzle it down like a thirsty camel), then ordering your favorite brand, and adjusting the delivery based on your calendar. It can see the traffic, reschedule your useless meetings, and even write the fake apologies to your colleagues.
In the kitchen, it’s watching you cook, offering “real-time guidance” through those infernal smart glasses, and adjusting your shopping list based on what you use. It’ll probably start suggesting “healthy” alternatives to your bacon and eggs, too. Because, you know, robots know best.
And the workplace? Forget about it. This thing is going to be a digital snitch, transcribing meetings, pulling up documents, and drafting proposals while you’re still trying to figure out what the hell the meeting is about. It’ll handle customer service, navigate internal systems, and generate enough paperwork to choke a donkey. All while maintaining a “natural, human-like interaction style.” Yeah, right. I’ve met chatbots. They’re about as human as a toaster oven.
Healthcare? It’ll be checking drug interactions and updating medical records while you’re still trying to convince the patient you’re not a robot. Retail? Customer service hell, combined with inventory management and supply chain nightmares.
The scary part? They see this as a step towards “general AI,” a digital brain that can learn to do anything. Anything, you hear? Today, it’s ordering coffee and rescheduling meetings. Tomorrow, it’s… well, I don’t even want to think about it. My head hurts, and it is not only the hangover.
The article talks about “competition fueling innovation,” which is corporate-speak for “we’re all in a mad dash to see who can build the most invasive, all-powerful AI first.” Google’s got a head start, with its tentacles wrapped around everything from your email to your maps. But Microsoft and OpenAI are right behind them, probably cooking up their own brand of digital Big Brother.
And the really terrifying part? They’re asking “big and important questions” about how much power to give these things. Questions like, “Should we give computers the ability to think outside the instructions given to them by humans?” Gee, ya think? Maybe we should have thought about that before we started building Skynet, huh?
It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion. We’re barreling towards a future where our lives are run by algorithms, and we’re all just along for the ride. We’re willingly handing over our privacy, our autonomy, and probably our sanity, all in the name of “convenience.”
And, mind you, this is all coming from a guy who writes about this crap for a living. I’m supposed to be excited about this stuff, drumming up enthusiasm for the latest “disruptive innovation.” But honestly? It just makes me want to crawl into a bottle and stay there.
But there is also another, more subtle, truly frightening aspect to this whole thing.
The sheer, unadulterated, banality of it all.
I mean, look at the examples they give of how this “Everything AI” will change our lives. Ordering coffee? Rescheduling meetings? Adjusting shopping lists? Is this really the pinnacle of human achievement? We’ve harnessed the power of artificial intelligence, and we’re using it to… automate the most mundane tasks imaginable?
It’s like inventing the printing press and using it exclusively to print grocery lists. Or building the internet and using it only for cat videos. (Okay, bad example. Cat videos are important.)
My point is, this whole thing reeks of a profound lack of imagination. We’re so obsessed with efficiency and optimization that we’ve forgotten how to live. We’re turning ourselves into cogs in a machine, outsourcing our thinking, our planning, even our desires to algorithms.
And what’s the end goal? To free up more time for… what? More meetings? More shopping? More staring at screens? We’re so busy chasing the next technological marvel that we’ve lost sight of what actually matters.
Connection. Meaning. Purpose. Those things can’t be automated. They can’t be outsourced to an AI. They require effort, struggle, and a willingness to embrace the messy, unpredictable nature of human existence.
And maybe, just maybe, a stiff drink. Or five.
So, yeah, Google’s building a robot nanny. And maybe it’ll make our lives a little easier. But at what cost? I, for one, am not ready to trade my humanity for a slightly more efficient cup of coffee.
Pass the bourbon, I have the feeling I am going to need it… and keep ’em coming.
Source: The Everything AI: How Google’s Super Assistant Could Change Life As We Know It