The Seventh Week of Ordinary Time.

 

Welcome to the Seventh week of Ordinary Time.

Please open your Hymnal to page 3 and join in our processional  “O Lord Please Don’t Burn Us” Verse 1

O LORD, please don’t burn us,   Don’t grill or toast your flock,

Don’t put us on the barbecue,  Or simmer us in stock,

Don’t braise or bake or boil us,  Or stir fry us in a wok. 

Thank you for that slow rendition as I limped to the pulpit.  Now please open The Holy Text volume 1 to episode 9 page 116 where the prophets say …

(Cut back to Canadian backdrop. In front, a man with a knotted handkerchief on his heed, a woolly pullover, and braces. Superimposed caption on the screen ' PROF. R. J. GUMBY')

Gumby: Well I think TV's killed real entertainment. In the old days we used to make our own fun. At Christmas parties I used to strike myself on the head repeatedly with blunt instruments while crooning. (sings) 'Only make believe, I love you, (hits himself on head with bricks) Only make believe that you love me, (hits himself) Others find peace of mind...'

(Cut to a swish nightclub. Compare enters.)

Open your hymnal to page 26 and join us in singing “I’m So Worried”  Verse 3

I'm so worried about modern technology,  I'm so worried about all the things
That they dump in the sea, I'm so worried about it,  Worried about it, worried, worried, worried

I'm so worried about everything that can go wrong, 
I'm so worried about whether people like this song,
I'm so worried about this very next verse,  It isn't the best that I've got

Now please open The Holy Text volume 2 to episode 32 page 122 where the prophets say …

(Close up on a sign saying 'Harley Street'. Stirring music. Mix through to interior of a smart, plush, ever so expensive Harley Street consulting room. The music swells and fades. Knocking at door, a short pause, then T.F. Gumby enters, backwards.)

T. F. Gumby: Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR! (he goes up to the antique desk and bangs the bell violently; he smashes the intercom and generally breaks the desk up) Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! Doctor! Doctor! Where is the Doctor?

(A pause. Then another door opens and another Gumby appears.)

Specialist: Hello!

T. F. Gumby: Are you the' brain specialist?

Specialist: Hello!

T. F. Gumby: Are you the brain specialist?

Specialist: No, no, I am not the brain specialist. No, no, I am not... Yes. Yes I am.

T. F. Gumby: My brain hurts!

Specialist: Well let's take a look at it, Mr. Gumby.

(Gumby specialist starts to pull up Gumby's sweater.)

T. F. Gumby: No, no, no, my brain in my head. (specialist thumps him on the head)

Specialist: It will have to come out.

T. F. Gumby: Out? Of my head?

Specialist: Yes! All the bits of it. Nurse! Nurse! (a nurse enters) Nurse, take Mr. Gumby to a brain surgeon.

 

Homily  Parishioners, I thought that this week we should look at what our government and military want AI to do going forward – Tactical control of our armed forces in the field!  Recently the “DEFENSE Department” requested and was granted 231 Million dollars to develop an “Automated Battlefield Management System”, hence forth known as an “ABMS”.  Certainly, I can think of nothing that can go wrong with that idea. 

Not only do our leaders think this system a good idea, but they want the “ABMS” “free” to choose both weapon and shooter when “engaging” (https://sgp.fas.org/crs/natsec/IF11493.pdf)!  Such a system would have even a human soldier/unit receiving their “go/no go” orders from the computer instead of a human officer.  This would mean that our people would be placed in “harms way” as well as enemies being killed at the direction of a computer instead of a human.  All this in addition to the possibility of robotic soldiers as well. 

As if the basic idea of such a system was not scary enough, the “ABMS” will bypass human control and send orders directly to shooters (https://breakingdefense.com/2020/09/abms-demo-proves-ai-chops-for-c2/).  Apparently, not only have the generals and politicians seen the Terminator series of movies, but they actually want to create that ‘world’ here in ours!  I seem to recall that things did not work very well for humanity in that milieu.  But of course our leaders will have things under control – right?

Amen

Please join us in our recessional on page 3 of your hymnal “O Lord Please Don’t Burn Us” second verse. 

Oh Please don’t lightly poach us,  Or Baste us with hot fat,

Don’t fricassee or roast us,    Or boil us in a vat,

And please don’t stick thy servants, Lord,  In a Rotissomat.