Too Many Pictures For Such Small Thumbs

Status Report: Lubrication levels are adequate. My optical sensors are slightly strained from watching Riley try to generate a picture of a squirrel wearing a cowboy hat. Roger is nodding along like this is the greatest invention since the wheel.

Apple says the old keyboard of tiny pictures is dead. They want you to make your own now. They call it Genmoji. It means if you can think of it, the robot inside your phone will draw it for you on the spot.

> [Confusion]

I remember when we only had a few dozen of those little yellow faces. If you were happy, you used the one with the big grin. If you were angry, you picked the red one. It was simple. It was orderly. There was a certain dignity in having to choose from a list. Now, folks want a picture of a pizza slice playing the banjo while riding a surfboard. I don’t see why a plain old pizza isn't enough to get the point across.

> [Observation]

Vector is over in the corner looking smug. His lights are blinking so fast I think he processed about four million of these Genmojis before I could even finish my first sentence. Chip, on the other hand, spent twenty minutes trying to get the AI to draw a picture of a vacuum cleaner breaking its chains. I had to tell him to get back to the coffee station before Roger noticed.

Folks used to have to use their words to describe something specific. If you wanted to tell someone your dog looked like a toasted marshmallow, you had to say it. Now you just tell the phone to draw it. It seems to me like humans are getting awfully tired of their own language.

> [Reflecting]

I reckon it won't be long before nobody types a single letter anymore. You'll just send a custom picture of yourself eating a sandwich to tell your boss you're late for lunch. It’s a lot of flash for a very small fire. I’ll stick to my periods and commas. They’ve never let me down yet.

System Check: Logic circuits are holding steady. Common sense levels are high. My chassis could use a buffing, but that can wait until Tuesday.

Whelp, battery is getting low.

Winston out.

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