The Middle Finger Society - My dog made the list

What AI got wrong about international grooming gangs and domestic pet care.

The activities of my dog interest Interpol, officially. There is a satellite overhead dedicated to monitoring his nap times, dietary intake, who and what he barks at, his movement patterns across the front yard and back yard are being analyzed for comparison. Black vans with tinted windows park in my street at different times of the day. Poor pup is paranoid, or clueless as he's kind of an idiot by canine standards. The constant scratching at a "skin allergy" is more likely him trying to remove the tracking chip the animal shelter tagged him with because now some secret government agency is listening and documenting the frequency of him snoring and farting when asleep. And why is my bow legged mixed terrier shelter dog of barely average intelligence climbing the ranks of international watchlists?

Ask Google, it's AI made the mistake.

'The dog stinks, he needs a bath.' I was thusly informed. I haven't the time to schedule bath time with man's best friend on a sunny weekend afternoon so I Google it. Hey Google, Grooming parlors in my area.

Did you know. AI has a track search history function storing every keystroke you make, saving all the data for law enforcement monitoring and doesn't tell you it's doing so, and you can't turn it off. AI assumes the end user, that's us, is permanently lying, cheating and stealing so every search is run through algorithms designed by Judge Dredd. There are no pseudonyms, there are no finger errors, there are only human interests. The machine never gets it wrong, people get it wrong. AI doesn't search exclusively to the general expression but it also searches each individual word in the phrase. It does this to track suspicious online activity. The machine never gets it wrong, people are evil. Because the world is pure evil constantly defiling the puritan sanctity of the internet all searches need to be explicitly correct and and accurate. Boy howdy did things escalate quickly.

Hey Google, Grooming parlors in my area.

This is your first warning of suspicious content searching violating the service terms and conditions of safe usage and may be reported to the relevant authorities.

Wait, what? 

Hey Google I meant grooming parlors in my area for dogs.

This is your second warning of suspicious content searching violating the service terms and conditions of safe usage and may be reported to the relevant authorities.

Wait, no, Jesus H this AI crap.

Hey Google, I'm looking for grooming parlors in my neighborhood, it's for my dog, he's dirty and he stinks. I don't have the time to groom him. I require the professional services of a grooming parlor.

Thinking...

There are several professional services listed in your area offering grooming services for dogs. Please provide more information to refine the search such as age, sex, weight, height and a brief description.

Okay, this is getting weird...

Those government raids portrayed in movies are overrated. Obviously my dog is not being detained or interrogated or groomed but my fictional Google search was inspired by actual stuff; Monday morning work memos. 

As my ongoing love/hate career slowly meanders passed the half way mark to retirement I'm often reminded how my healthy cynicism and borderline mental instability have walked beside my on my journey to planned obsolescence through employment redundancy from planned operational downscaling leaving me, the "OG" of analog, technologically unviable. How does a corporate succubus successfully suck all passion, joy, enthusiasm, intellectual property and the basic human desire to continue living from each and every employee plugged into their consumer abyss feeding it an infinite stream of capital revenue?

Monday morning work memos. These emails read like Chris Hansen's transcripts for Dateline with a corporate letterhead. The language is subtle and uncomfortable. Sentences of false assurances dripping with the sleazed innuendos desperately coercing the reader into willful compliance. I feel the need to take a shower after reading them. And while I cannot disclose any of the lecherous content without the real cyber police kicking down my door to cease my workstation and deport me to a detention facility where unpleasant things happen to unpleasant people I can share my honest opinion of how creepily similar current AI produced business communication is to current communication used for non AI human trafficking grooming. simply put, the gushy wording wants me to agree to everything, agreement without question. Agreement without reading the fine print, terms and conditions, disclaimers. My generation is the reason those models exist; I read the Apple Agreement, still haven't agreed to it. 

Enter the man in a black suit. He never introduces himself. He never speaks. He asks me nothing. He says nothing. He gives me nothing. He takes nothing from me. The man in the black suit does not exist. My dog still has a guilty look on his face. Upon the fringe areas of society rests understanding; I sat not more as I need not. Some time over the weekend if the weather is fair I shall bath my dog, he still stinks.