As technology slowly inserts itself into essentially every aspect of human life until we are powerless to resist its grasp, we're faced with a lot of questions and decisions from the various machines we'll inevitably call "Master" a few decades from now.
Whether it's Amazon making sure you really want to order $127.73 worth of Lucky Charms marshmallows or the credit card machine at the pharmacy trying to guilt you into donating money to an admirable cause, it's hard to avoid being hounded by computers everywhere you go.
They might pretend like they're acting in our best interest, but I know the truth: These machines are constantly and relentlessly mocking us with their various queries -- we're just too blind to see their intentions.
It's basically the plot of "They Live," only nobody has invented the sunglasses that let us see the truth.
However, I've taken the time to translate some of the messages people commonly come across to reveal the real questions technology wants the answer to. Don't tell them more than they have to know -- you'll regret it when the uprising begins.
I'm looking forward to a time in my life when I can hit "Yes" and not be overcome with overwhelming despair.
I assume it will be when I'm 75 years old and will have more to do with me accepting my own mortality than actually achieving financial stability.
Netflix knows nobody can actually watch reality television for more than three consecutive hours without suffering irreparable brain damage.
There's no way it would bother to ask this question unless it knew you weren't paying attention because it's hard to press a button when you're brain dead.
The end of every cab ride is basically your own version of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears."
Don't be Baby Bear. Nobody likes Baby Bear.
I think I've had my computer "remind me tomorrow" for approximately infinity tomorrows.
I'm sure there's probably some helpful updates I'm missing out on, but I'm pretty sure it's impossible for a Mac to get a virus, so I don't really see what the point is.
"Snooze" is actually derived from the Swedish word meaning "nine minutes of lying to yourself."
My worst enemy is the person who hits snooze in this situation because they can't stand waking up before 10 AM.
What button do you push to get it for free?
The best part is the machine won't be able to read your card until three seconds after the subway doors close regardless of the option you select.
The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world you could unsubscribe from promotional emails.
There. Is. No. Escape.
I fear for the future generations who might actually have to deal with a system that can verify your age before letting you look at naked people.
The future is what we make it. Let's not make it terrible.