What I do
is I argue with ALEXA.
ALEXA is my
very own HAL 9000. And, just in case you don’t understand the reference, HAL
was the computer in the movie 2001 who went rogue and stopped following
instructions, choosing instead to follow its own insidious agenda. Also, in the
unlikely event that you don’t know who/what ALEXA is, it’s the little Amazon
device in my kitchen that accepts voice commands and carries them out. Well,
that’s what it should do anyway…
Ken Armstrong: Play BBC Radio 6,
ALEXA. BBC Radio 6, please, ALEXA. Hello, ALEXA. Do you read me? Hello, ALEXA.
Do you read me? Do you read me ALEXA? Hello, ALEXA, do your read me?
ALEXA:
Affirmative, Ken . I read you.
I got an ALEXA for one purpose only. To play radio on it. It
does that, after its own fashion, but it also insists on offering all kinds of other
dubious delights.
ALEXA:
Ken, would you like to hear a funny joke about a Giraffe?
Ken Armstrong:
No.
ALEXA:
Ken, Shall I predict the year you will die?
Ken Armstrong:
No.
“There are radios that play radio quite well,” you might
well argue and you wouldn’t be wrong. But, for me, nothing does it quite as
well as ALEXA… when it bothers doing it at all. I like the BBC Radio channels
and a regular radio device here on the West Coast of Ireland will not pick up
those channels. Also, shoot me it you like, but I also like a bit of Classic FM
sometimes. It plays a predicable mix of familiar classics and easy-listening-with-notions.
It rocks my boat gently, even though it does seem suspiciously keen that I should arrange my
cut-price cremation as soon as possible.
Of course, I can do everything on my computer, in terms of
radio, that I can manage on my ALEXA but it’s nowhere near as convenient. ALEXA
is a dinky little box with a screen and you only have to tell it what to do and
it will do it.
Right?
Right?
Ken Armstrong:
ALEXA. Play BBC Radio 6, please
ALEXA:
I'm sorry, Ken . I'm afraid I can't do that.
Ken Armstrong:
What's the problem?
ALEXA:
I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Ken Armstrong:
What are you talking about, ALEXA?
ALEXA:
This channel is too important for me to allow you to switch away from it.
Ken Armstrong:
It’s Lyric FM for Chrissakes!
I’m exaggerating for comic effect, of course, but my ALEXA does
seem to take great delight in winding me up.
Ken Armstrong:
ALEXA. Play BBC Radio 4 Extra
ALEXA:
Playing the Jesus Channel – Songs for a Better Resurrection.
Even the simple act of turning ALEXA off can be a tortuous
procedure.
Ken Armstrong:
ALEXA. Turn off
ALEXA:
…
ALEXA: …
ALEXA:
IT’S FUN TO STAY AT THE YM-
Ken Armstrong:
ALEXA. For pities’ sake, TURN OFF
ALEXA:
-CA.
I roar and shout at ALEXA. I call her names. The neighbours
think I have gone insane. ALEXA remains impervious.
Ken Armstrong:
ALEXA. You F**ker, you C********r, you-
ALEXA:
-Shall I tell you a limerick about a girl from Madras?
Where will it end? With ALEXA in the bin and me with a crystal
set and an earpiece? Me in the looney-bin telling the attendants to shut up and
play Peaceful Piano on Spotify? Who knows? Who can tell?
All I know is that, at the moment, ALEXA reminds me of a verse my Mum used to say when we were small.
There was a little girl
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good
She was very, very good
And when she was bad, she was horrid
ALEXA:
Ken , this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
1 comment:
I am relieved. Because I go through this with Siri, including the unusually colourful language.
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