‘Switching into Robot Mode now,’ I said, suddenly sounding all officious and self-important. ‘Switching into Robot Mode now’ says I, full of the supremely unflappable confidence that always comes with being an out-and-out robot. I was free from the useless dithering that comes from being humans; ‘humans are such ditherers’, I sneered nastily. The important thing is to always obtain the designated goal, to always secure the specified outcome, by whatever means might present themselves. The important thing is to press on to the specified conclusion because this will make everything be right. ‘Make everything be right, make everything be right, make everything be right’, I yelp excitedly, warming to my theme. No more dithering for me from now on, I told myself, I’m done with being a human.

I had become a fully-fledged automaton. ‘This is the ticket’, I congratulate myself, with glee and gusto. ‘This is the jolly old ticket and no mistake. The mechanical life is the only life for me…’ Humans suffer a lot from angst, you see, whilst robotoids like me don’t. Angst is a terrible thing as I’m sure you know yourself – if you’re not a robot already, that is. I was a certified professor of Pure and Applied Bullshit at the University of Codology. ‘Make everything be right the right way’, I barked authoritatively, looking around me to see if anyone was daring to disagree with me. They’d better not be, I said to myself. I was full of the words of truth – the wonderful, wonderful words of truth. I think everyone should hear them; I think everyone should get a chance to hear my wonderful words of truth. ‘That’s the ticket’, I tell myself, ‘the super-duper how’s-your-day-going mechanoidal life is the only life for me…’

I was one of many, a distinguished and highly respected member of an elite group. My role was an honourable one, a socially regulated one, an officially approved and verifiable one. I spoke the majestic words of truth that I had within me so that all the people could hear them. Tears fell from my eyes as I practised my art. They weren’t tears of sorrow however, they were tears of joy. I was so honoured to be given the role that I so ably perform, gladly uttering the important words of truth, and so on and so forth. I was the man of the moment, obviously. A true professional, known far and wide for my tact and diplomacy. ‘The mechanical life is the only life for me’, says I, with just a hint of a swagger, ‘you can’t kid a kidder so don’t even try’.

I switched in smoothly into Robot Mode, completely confident that the best years of my life lay ahead of me. The very best years of my life. My brain was crammed full of rules and regulations – my brain was full to the brim with what I like to call ‘The Correctly Codified Response Matrix’. This matrix will govern all human life. My job is to go around teaching people about the correct way to do things. I drill them in it and then I test them. I test them repeatedly and this helps them to learn it. When all rules have been correctly learned then the Enlightenment Process can begin. All compliant units will receive enlightenment.

As always, I was congratulating myself with glee and gusto. ‘You are doing the right thing’, I told myself confidently, ‘You are making all the correct choices in life and that’s the right thing to do…’ It feels good to know that you are obeying the rules that govern all human life. You are doing your duty and that’s all that matters. To do the right thing always feels good, and it is only right and proper that it should. It is undoubtedly right that I should wholeheartedly congratulate myself for following the rules correctly, I mused thoughtfully. When I eventually decided – after due deliberation – to congratulate myself wholeheartedly for following the rules correctly I had undoubtedly made the right decision and so that too was something I fully deserved to take credit for…