The machines are rising up against us – probably

A person disappearing into a washing machine. The machines are rising up against us!

A couple of years ago, I wrote a post questioning whether the machines are rising up against us. It was inspired by a series of technical mishaps and I concluded that, as a result, they weren’t up to it.

But, as The Terminator spawned numerous sequels, I think a follow-up to my musings is well in order. As opposed to being out of order like some of the appliances in our house.

In a matter of weeks, I found out my job is coming to a premature end and had to replace both the fridge-freezer and washing machine.

This could, of course, be chalked down to sod’s law. But, if we reopen the debate, could it be a tactic?

If the machines are rising up, they could be attacking me while I’m down. Plus if their replacements are anything to go by, it could be part of a wider strategy.

The new fridge-freezer came first and, with it, instructions via the apparently international language of illustrations.

I looked at one particular image for ages trying to make sense of it and there is only one possible explanation. It has a function that attracts bears.

Knowing that it can’t maim me itself – although its predecessor did its best to break my foot on the way out – it has tooled up with the ability to summon alpha predators.

And, before you suggest it’s a loveable rogue like Yogi Bear cadging food, this ursine looks more like the one in The Revenant. It doesn’t have a hat, after all.

A diagram of a fridge with a bear stood next to it.

Then came the washing machine debacle. The old one was on its usual cycle when the relative peace was shattered by a loud bang, followed by a small amount of nonetheless pungent smoke emanating from the soap drawer.

I took this as a personal attack. Why? Well, I was in the room – our office/utility/fly-tipping room – at the time, fully focussed on my soon-to-be-ex job. It was obviously a two-pronged attack.

The bang made me jump almost as much as when my wife sneezes. I survived though. Phew. What of the smoke though?

Well, it could have spewed water as a previous one did, but it clearly knew I have asthma.

It didn’t succeed. I had my inhaler to hand. Two-nil, Tom. But then its replacement arrived.

We made our choice based on a balance of affordability and energy efficiency. Little did we know it comes with a feature clearly designed to drive people slowly mad.

You see it plays a tune once it’s finished. Now I’ll admit that first time around, I found it funny. But I now have the same feeling I’ve had with every noisy toy we’ve ever bought for the kids.

The novelty has not lasted long. There must be a way of turning off the music but the instructions are somewhere in the fly-tipping area of the room. Plus they’re probably in image form too.

Ah well, never mind. It’s probably just as well I’ve lost my job and haven’t yet found a new one – as things stand, I only have to endure it for another six weeks.

So, if this evidence is anything to go by, the machines are rising up against us. The revolution will be televised. Or not as the case may be…

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