Aryan's A-Z

    Artificial Intelligence: The Source Through Which We Fall           “Alexica, grab me a coffee and turn on the T.V,” I cawed out while sinking into my AI-generated premium leather chair. “Certainly sir,” a metallic voice vibrated through my eardrums, and the chair manually adjusted my posture to ensure a perfect arch was formed by my back for optimal health. As locket-golden beams of sunlight filtered through the windows in the dawning of a new day, I stopped Windr- our window adjuster- from automatically doing its thing in order to let in some more Vitamin D. Unequipping my earbuds, I soaked in the gentle melodic soundwaves of a few doves outside, as the flapping and barely audible rustling of their wings was like an orchestra far more serene than the works of even the greatest of classical composers (no offense Mozart). And in such refined moments as this, like for any great author or connoisseur of the arts, a novelty struck my thought...

 Global Warming: A Satire I skid past the curb at 90 miles per hour, leaves trailing me in a brittle dry vortex of wind. I’m sweating like a madman, perspiration glistening on the roof of my skin as the sun beats down upon it through the layers after layers of smog in the air. My e-bike spirals over lumps of bodies, dead or alive, and I finally arrive back home from university. In the corner in front of my house, I shoo away some homeless folk cooking their eggs on the front porch, and skimper inside desperate for a glass of water. After sipping my rations, three and a half measly sips for the next 24 hours, I slink away on top of our rustic couch and groan in an attempt to avoid fainting. They had warned us about this. Almost 20 years ago, albeit, but still. “That damn government, they keep sending down the waves of heat here. Icebergs never existed in the first place, they just drew our attention to them damned floating things of nonsense to drag it away from what they’re actuall...