You Won’t Believe What Happens When the Robots Take Your Job—But Bitcoin Might!

by

The Comedy of Vanishing Posts

  • Three hundred millions of livelihoods tossed to the wind! Messieurs at Goldman Sachs, with gravitas most somber, declaim: one fourth of noble professions in the realm of Enlightenment soon ceded to the mechanical butlers of tomorrow. 🤖
  • Ninety-two millions swept beneath the rug by 2030. The oracles at the World Economic Forum—bless their powdered wigs—portend an 8 % diminuendo in the symphony of paychecks, new jobs merely the footnotes of this tragic script.
  • The entry-level guillotine descends! Dario Amodei, grand vizier of Anthropic, prophesizes half of today’s apprentice scribes and clerks carted off stage within five acts—excuse me, years—while unemployment leaps for joy at 10–20 %. 😳
  • Productivity shoots forth like Cupid’s arrow. An MIT-Stanford farce: 5 000 pestered support agents armed with Large Language Machinations, ticket-shuffling leaping by 14 %. The novices, once slow, now dance 34 % swifter; oh, the tragedy of surplus rookies!

Behold, dear audience, our silicon overlords render simple tasks the stuff of jest! Why toil at Python when the Bard-GPT pens sonnets in milliseconds? Why research, why reconcile accounts, when one word to the Machine and—voilà—your coffee’s still hot?

Of Checkout Lanes and Human Caprice

Recall the days when self-checkout was heralded as salvation? Alas, Walmart hath cast out these metal jesters—Princeton, New Jersey, now free from their robotic tyranny; Albuquerque, thrice so. The devil, as ever, lies not in efficiency, but in theft and shopper fury. Meanwhile, in the province of Texas, Sam’s Club hath raised a super-store with as many lanes as Molière’s wardrobe—none! AI now waves us through like aristocrats with a fast pass. 🛒

Thus Automation plays the seductress: one moment bestowing, the next snatching away, and on tragic nights, redirecting you to “the human lurking in aisle five.”

If Syringe-Pumping Automatons Rule, Who Shall Pay the Rent?

Observe governments, desperate for remedies: America sends alms to retirees newly wronged by its own quills. Across the Alps, Swiss philosophers entomb humanity’s unmentionables in a Poop Vault—no, truly, a literal “Bank of Bowel Movements”—lest even microbes desert us! When our strategic reserves become pocket change and commode cultures, perhaps we ought to worry. 💩

Universal Basic Income sounds a gentle lullaby—until one asks, pray, who foots the bill? If tax coffers wither beneath algorithmic plagues, shall the State conjure currency by fiat? Either way, the savers roast like chickens on Midsummer’s spit.

Bitcoin: The Untouchable Lord in This Farce

  1. On Scarcity Most Stubborn
    There shall be, upon Molière’s beard, not one farthing more than twenty-one million coins! Nineteen million and change are already spirited away in wallets; the rest guarded more jealously than the King’s own cheese cellar. Central bankers, meanwhile, slap the “print” button as if it grants youth and virility.
  2. The Halving—A Divine Comedy
    April 2024, miner tributes sliced to 3.125 BTC per stanza. Bitcoin’s inflation limbos beneath gold, now a meagre 0.83 %. The crowd gasps—the nobles faint—yet the drama persists!
  3. The Aristocrats’ Endorsement
    Lord BlackRock now proclaims Bitcoin “the safety raft when the treasury leaks,” eager to tuck some BTC beneath their feathered pillows. If BlackRock sniffs, you may wager the pensioners clutch their monocles and dive in headfirst.
  4. Your Salary? Bitcoin Scoffs
    Bitcoin is an indifferent Count: cares not if thou art coder, coffee-brewer, or player upon the tambourine. Your wallet cannot be laid off—unless, of course, you forget the password.

The Skeptic’s Corner, or: Questions for the Melancholic

  • “Is not Bitcoin mercurial in nature?” Indeed, as is thy station in life! Bitcoin’s tantrums nonetheless bend upward like a courtier’s bows in leap years—your paycheck may glide in more horizontal fashion.
  • “Will Sovereigns smite Bitcoin?” Let them try. Some have rattled sabers for fifteen years, yet the mining of hashes now resounds louder than ever (and much less taxing than mining for meaning in Parliament).
  • “Could sorcerous AIs breach the walls?” Bah! Turning GPT into the ASIC golem needed for such heresy would be akin to storming Fort Knox with a loaf of stale bread. 🍞

Thriving When the Curtain Falls On Work

  1. Augment, dear friend, do not duel. Become the Cyrano of Large Language! Add brains to thy bravado and flourish.
  2. Embrace Thine Human Quirks. A well-timed grin, and touch on the elbow—these the machines shall never counterfeit (yet!).
  3. Amass that which censors cannot leash. Sure, gold twinkles—but Bitcoin hums to thee over Wi-Fi in any tavern.
  4. Let Reason and Cabbages Govern. When even Poop Vaults and Walmart agree that the world is soup, perhaps a garden and a hardware wallet are the only plot twists left.

Cliff Notes for the Nonplussed and Distracted

AI is donning wigs and marching straight for your cubicle, your produce aisle, and yes, your morning paper. Governments will flail like ham actors; wages will dissolve; most will reinvent themselves faster than a scene change. Amidst this slapstick, one surety persists: those who own assets conjured not from bureaucratic boredom nor algorithmic whim shall sleep easier—at least until supper.

Bitcoin—borderless, rare, and weather-worn—plays this part with style. A modest purchase beats idle applause. Keep half an eye on the door, for the seat-belt sign flickers and tonight’s pilot is a sleepless neural net powered only by existential dread and a dash of gallows humor.

Bitcoin, in its latest plot twist, slips to $107,804, yearning for fresher heights—curtain falls, applause, encore, source: BNC Bitcoin Liquid Index

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2025-07-05 06:20