I don’t want artificial intelligence, artificial pain, artificial love. Even the artificial flowers about us have grown weary and are dying for a touch of real mist, a drop of real rain. I don’t want artificial light and artificial birds singing and aritificial poems recited by artificial poets. I don’t want artificial love and friendship and artificial works of art. I don’t want an artificial spring, an artificial fall. I don’t want an artificial smile to hang my hat on. I don’t want an artificial greeting. I don’t want artificial tears. I don’t want artificial borders and artificial soil tossed over the bones and voices and memory of my ancestors. I don’t want an artificial tongue to recite artificial poems and sing artificial songs. Artificial intelligence knows everything except love. I don’t want to live this life not knowing how to love.