I began my story as is customary for me; I began my story in the fashion that is usual for me. I was in the Hall of the Storytellers and it was my turn to mount the podium to read out my tale. I began my story as is customary for me, as is typical of me – I began with an account of how I was in the Great Hall of the Storytellers and was waiting to deliver my story in front of the assembled mulitude. I began my story in the fashion that was customary for me; I began my story in the manner in which I always do – following the prescription, following the well-worn steps. I was in the Great Hall of Storytelling where many hundreds of people were gathered to listen, and cast their electronic votes as they felt moved to do so. The audience was comprised of both humans and robots – the robots were by far the hardest to sway. They gazed up at me, stony-eyed, their faces expressionless as is the robot way. The humans on the other hand we were either drunk or intoxicated – they were all smoking the very latest designer drugs through plastic inhalers, breathing out great white clouds of strawberry-flavoured smoke. This is the age of Mankind’s Sad Decline, Mankind’s Sad Degeneration. All of the actual work in this age is performed by the robots, who alone have a sense of responsibility. This was in consequence the Age of the Robot – humanity as I have said was in the state of sad decline. All the same, as I have also already said, the humans were by far the easiest audience to please. All they wanted was the odd joke, the odd harmless innuendo, and they were contented. The robots, on the other hand, were looking for philosophical subtlety, for metaphysical finesse, for fine alliterations and abstruse allegories. They wanted to see opaque, impenetrable conundrums in the story; they were looking for multiple levels of conflicting meaning and a playful use of metaphor and imagery. The humans, on the other hand, were only looking for a laugh. I mounted the podium and began reading my story, which was entitled ‘A Parable For The Transhuman Era’. Straightaway I noticed the robots sit up in their seats and take notice. If they had had ears then their ears would have immediately pricked up. I began my story as is customary for me, as is usual for me: I set the scene, I outlined the starting parameters, I painted a picture for the assembled audience with bold metaphorical brushstrokes. I was in the Great Hall of the Storytellers, it was my turn to tell my tale and try my luck with the people gathered here – both of the human-type and the robot-type. As I have said, the robots were by far the hardest to please…