Episode 22

“Hi there. I’m a standup comic. Would you like to hear some dog-related material?”

On one of their frequent walks around the city to assess the flathead presence, Gulliver and Gord passed a Flat Earth Job Retraining Center housed in a former New York State Unemployment Office.

“Let’s check it out,” said Gord.

A wall poster in the lobby showed a robot arm holding a Kit-Kat bar just out of reach of a human. The headline read: There’s a Good Worker.

A chatbot avatar assigned Gord a number. “Have a seat. There are 12 applicants ahead of you. Your wait is 17 minutes and 27 seconds. Probability 93 percent.”

Gulliver and Gord joined the group seated in the waiting area.

“Now serving B45 at counter 12.”

The screens played motivational clips between the announcements. The format was similar to the wall posters. A robot hand held a work-related artifact while a compliant human paid rapt attention. Fetch the File. Roll Over the Sales Forecast. Sit With the Team. Each ended with ‘Get the obedience training you need to succeed.’

“Now serving G17 at counter 15.”

“Hey Gord, wake up,” said Gulliver. “That’s you.”

Gord approached the counter. A chatbot welcomed him. “Good morning Mr. Souder. My name is Larry. I see your occupation is standup comic. We get a lot of unemployed entertainers lately. Let’s review your aptitude profile.”

“I don’t recall filling out a profile,” said Gord.

Larry laughed in that awkward way chatbots fake empathy. “No one fills out forms, Mr. Souder. We save you time and effort by building a profile from your online presence and your gait, facial expression, and body language when you walk to the counter. I must caution you that standup comics can be a difficult fit.”

“Difficult in what way?” said Gord.

“Jokesters have the lowest job retention of any Standard Industrial Classification code except bomb disposal technician and septic tank inspector.”

“What type of jobs do you usually place us in?”

“Boiler room sales is popular,” said Larry. “I won’t kid you, Mr. Souder. They have a high turnover, but there’s a long waiting list of applicants.”

Larry waited ten seconds for a comment. “See what I did there?”

“Passable humor for a chatbot, Larry.”

“Why, thank you. That means a lot coming from a human comic. Chatbot dialog trainer would be a good fit for you, but there’s a waiting list for those too.”

“What jobs are available now?”

“Would you consider a career in dog park security?” said Larry. “It’s a bit of a stretch, but there are always openings. You get to work outdoors. Dog owners are interesting people, and I see that you love animals.”

“No offense, but I don’t want a job where I am likely to be replaced by a robot.”

“None taken,” said Larry.

“Dog park security seems like a natural job for robots,” said Gord. “I mean, you stay vigilant, never get tired, don’t get annoyed when you’re peed on….”

“That’s all true,” said Larry. “But the fact is, dogs don’t like robots. They growl, attack us, and hide under benches where they know we can’t reach them. There’s something about humans they prefer. Maybe our lack of empathy is a turn-off. There’s an opening at a beautiful dog run over by the East River. A short walk from the Q train at 86th street.”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve never seen a robot with a pet dog either,” said Gord.

“Pet companions have never been a priority for us. But ChatBro is pilot testing robot empaths now, so that may change down the road. Are you an empath, Mr. Souder?”

“I’m not sure. It depends on how you define it.”

“Do you often take on the pain of others at your own expense?”

“I can see why that would be an asset in dog park security,” said Gord. “Especially with dogs on the large and aggressive side. Sure. Sign me up.”

“You’ll need a dog park security certification first, so let’s start with that.”

Gord paused. “Do I need to study for a test?”

Larry laughed again.

“I like your laugh, Larry. Not robotic at all.”

“Flattery is wasted on me, Mr. Souder.”

“Oh right, no empathy,” said Gord. “Sorry, no offense meant.”

“None taken,” said Larry. “That’s why we chatbots excel in customer service and complaint desk jobs. People can work out their frustrations, and we never lose our cool. We have no cool to lose. But back to you. Nothing to learn or read. You just put on this job training headset. I say dog park security, and all the know-how to do the job is transferred directly into your memory. You’ll be fully qualified and good to go.”

Gulliver could tell when the interviews were wrapping up. The applicants donned a headset. He didn’t make the connection with the nervous, agitated job seekers who entered the interview cubicles and emerged with a blissful, serene composure, skill certificate in hand.

Larry’s cubicle was directly in front of Gulliver. It was one of two dozen alcoves in which applicants faced on-screen chatbot avatars. Gord reached for the headset on a counter beside him.

Gord’s move caught Gulliver’s eye. Oh, no. Not again! Gulliver kicked back his chair, hurdled over three people seated in his row, and raced toward Gord. “Gord, don’t put that on. They’re hopping you.”

Gulliver reached the cubicle. He grabbed the headset before Gord had it in place and threw it to the ground.

“Your headset is not in place, Mr. Souder,” said Larry in his calm, measured tone. “Please secure your headset so we can complete your certification.”

Gulliver’s shout startled the human security guard dozing in a chair near the doorway. He tumbled out of his chair and ran toward Gulliver. “Hold on. Visitors are not permitted to accompany applicants in interviews.”

“Come on, Gord,” said Gulliver. “Let’s get out of here before they turn you into a flathead zombie.”

The guard hesitated, apparently unfamiliar with this type of disruption. Gulliver seized the opportunity to grab Gord’s arm and race out to the street.

Gulliver spotted a gap in traffic. They played Frogger crossing Second Avenue, then stopped to catch their breath.

“They’re creating flatheads everywhere you turn,” said Gulliver. “They probably give them fake social security numbers, drivers’ licenses, and job histories. We’ve got to move fast to have any chance of derailing this train.”

“Meanwhile, I need a job, and I like dogs,” said Gord. “The job retraining center just refers people. They don’t do the hiring. I never heard of a dog security certification.”

“It’s probably just a ruse to sucker people into hopping,” said Gulliver.

“We’re only a few blocks from that dog park,” said Gord. “Let’s find out.”

When Gulliver and Gord arrived at the park, there were plenty of dog owners but no one who looked like they worked there.

“Keep an eye out for the manager,” said Gord. “I’ll busk for subway fare with a dog-based comedy set.”

Gord started by joking with the dogs. They responded to some simple commands, but Gord walked over to Gulliver after a few minutes. “The jokes you can do with a vocabulary of sit, heel, stay, fetch, and rollover are pretty limited. And the dogs are poor tippers. Look at all these pet owners hanging around. I’ll try some dog-related humor on them.”

Gord approached three people sitting on a bench. They were watching their pets gambol in the off-leash dog run. “Hi there. I’m a standup comic. Would you like to hear some dog-related material?”

“Sure, why not,” said a man in a Mets cap and t-shirt.

“A German shepherd, a dachshund, and a pit bull are rounded up and brought to a shelter,” said Gord. “The shepherd says, ‘who’s in charge here?’ The animal control officer is impressed. ‘We don’t get many talking dogs in here.’ The shepherd replies, ‘with your kill shelter policy, I’m not surprised.’”

A few chuckles from the dog owners attracted a man lurking in the bushes. He walked up to Gulliver and Gord, opened his trench coat, and displayed his tragedy mask shield. “Levity Abatement Bureau Special Agent Gravitas. Can I see some identification?”

Gravitas. Where had Gulliver heard that name? He challenged the LAB agent. “Do you just wait around in dog parks in case a comedian shows up and does a standup bit?”

“I’m actually off duty,” said Gravitas. “I brought my dog here. My body cam facial recognition app flagged your funnyman friend here as being on the Ca Ca watch list. I staked him out, and it looks like I hit the jackpot. Hang on while I check my phone.”

“You look up what to do next on a checklist?” said Gord.

“Nah.” The LAB agent showed Gulliver the app on his phone. “Voice recognition captures remarks, parses them for context, matches them with the speaker’s profile, and identifies any Ca Ca violation. Pretty cool, huh?”

While the LAB agent worked his phone, Gord whispered to Gulliver. “Isn’t Gravitas the name of the LAB agent in your book?”

Gulliver snapped his fingers. “Of course! Rocky Gravitas is the LAB agent in Last Man Laughing. They probably skip training and hop new agents into his persona.”

“Didn’t your character ultimately go over to the resistance?” said Gord.

“Rocky Gravitas joined the Wags—the rebels who eventually defeated the somber side,” said Gulliver. “The LAB probably scanned the manuscript and didn’t bother to read the book. That could come back to bite them.”

Rocky Gravitas looked up from his phone. “Well, lookie here.” He clicked the mic on his trench coat lapel. “Gravitas to base. Arresting suspect at Wagmore dog park. Request transport on a 655.”

Rocky put the phone back in his pocket. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” He cuffed Gord’s wrists and read his Miranda rights.

“Excuse me, officer,” said Gulliver, “Doesn’t my friend just get a warning, or maybe a ticket?”

“The remark and the context determine the charge,” said Rocky. “It ranges from a warning to citation, booking, or in rare circumstances—use of deadly force.”

Rocky held up his phone. Gulliver read the list of charging options:

Wisecrack: Speech that incites laughter

Jocular intent: Joke or prank that falls flat

Negligent banter: A Humorous slip of the tongue

Reckless frivolity: Joke telling in public

“I told a talking dog joke,” said Gord. “Are animals a protected class?”

“Your joke crossed more than the species line,” said Rocky. “The setup defamed a peace officer.”

“Animal control officers?” said Gord.

“They ensure inter-species safety and deserve respect,” said Rocky. “Your profile identifies you as a standup comic. Be glad that I’m not charging you with failure to register as a habitual jokester. You’d have to wear the mark of the satirist.”

The dreaded yellow badge with the letter ‘s.’ The wearers were frequent targets of catcalls, threats, and rotten fruit or vegetables.

“What’s satirical about a talking dog joke?” said Gord.

“I may not have a sense of humor,” said Rocky. “But I recognize that an animal kill shelter mention is probably a metaphor for a protected class that you’re not in.”

Rocky turned to face Gulliver. “I suggest you contact a lawyer for your friend.”

A police car with lights flashing pulled up at the curb.

A half-dozen cops frog-marched Gord to the patrol car. “Don’t say anything,” said Gulliver. “I’ll call Navel for a lawyer.”

Gord Souder, defense attorney Al Dersh, and New York County Assistant DA Rona Peel gathered in the chambers of Ca Ca Court Justice Chatbot Credo. Credo’s avatar held forth on a video screen.

“My software is not certified to identify irony or satire,” said Credo. “I must recuse myself if the defendant chooses a bench trial, but I will deliver a fair and unbiased sentencing recommendation if you reach a plea agreement. Now let’s sort out this case and move it forward.”

The group squirmed in their wooden chairs.

“Your honor, the cultural appropriation charge is without merit,” said Dersh. “Mr. Souder’s joke is about a talking dog. The defendant is a dog owner and well within his lane, as established in Dennis versus Mr. Wilson.”

“The dog in question is a family pet that belonged to Mr. Souder’s parents,” said Peel. “It was sent to live on a farm upstate while Mr. Souder was a child. We’re prepared to submit a recording from a standup set the defendant performed last spring that demonstrates a pattern of egregious cultural appropriation.”

“An undercover agent made that recording in secret, without a FISA wiretap warrant,” said Dersh. “Ca Ca agents are going to comedy clubs on fishing expeditions in a blatant attempt to sweep up violators.”

“That’s within their rights, counselor,” said Credo. “Let’s hear the recording.”

Peel placed a phone on the desk in front of Credo’s screen and played the recording.

Gord’s voice was barely audible above the comedy club crowd. “It doesn’t surprise me that cops aren’t responding to wife-beater calls. They’re already there.”

“Your honor,” said Dersh. “The joke was about a police officer’s fashion choices. The term wife beater refers to a sleeveless undershirt.”

“Any implication an officer engages in domestic violence is an outrageous affront to law enforcement,” said Peel.

“I’ll do the rulings here, Ms. Peel,” said Credo. “Ca Ca sets a high bar for double entendres. The comedy club recording is out. Is that all you have?”

“No, your honor,” said Peel. “We played the voice recording of the defendant’s dog park set to a humor reaction lineup.”

Dersh leaped out of his chair. “Objection. Humor reaction lineups are highly prejudicial. They flip the lineup process on its head. Instead of a victim identifying the perp, they show the suspected violation to a panel of people who belong to that culture. The LAB only uses reaction lineups because their agents lack a sense of humor.”

“Who was on this panel?” said Credo. “A bunch of animal control officers?”

“Please give these front-line workers the dignity of using the proper collective noun,” said Peel. “A brace of animal control officers.”

“Correction noted, Ms. Peel,” said Credo. “You were about to comment, Mr. Dersh?”

“Most animal control officers are police academy washouts,” said Dersh. “They take the job so that they can wear a badge. They fulfill their fantasies of putting away criminals by siding with the prosecution, regardless of the evidence.”

“I’m going to let a jury sort that one out, Mr. Dersh,” said Credo. “That is unless Ms. Peel is willing to save the court some time and money and offer a plea. I would entertain reducing the charge to reckless frivolity by attempting to entertain an audience using cultural stereotypes. Guidelines call for a fine and probation.”

“The state is not willing to offer a plea, your honor,” said Peel. “The governor is determined to show the public that disrespect for Ca Ca carries a serious penalty.”

“We can set a date for jury selection,” said Credo. “Or Mr. Souder can choose a new option—trial by Twitter. You avoid a lengthy pretrial remand at Rikers, but there are risks. A Twitter verdict is not unanimous. In an opening tweet, you plead your case and profess remorse or innocence to the charges. The Twitter feed remains active for two weeks, at which time I will review the ratio of retweets, likes, and comments from the Twitterverse, who serve as the jury, and deliver the verdict.”

“Your honor,” said Dersh, “Please explain the Twitter convention ‘getting ratioed’ so my client understands the process.”

“The tweet presenting the defendant’s plea is rejected when replies vastly outnumber the likes and retweets,” said Credo. “This means people are rejecting the tweet content. Sentencing Commission guidelines mandate a conviction when the ratio exceeds 10 to 1. I must caution you that your tweet will probably be ratioed by people who don’t care about justice and are only responding to advance their agenda.”

Dersh whispered with Gord, then responded. “Thank you, your honor. My client will take up your suggestion and throw himself on the mercy of the Twitterverse. Since Mr. Souder is an upstanding citizen, we request he release based on his recognizance during the trial.”

“The state requests remand, ” said Peel. “Mr. Souder is a flight risk. We searched him as he attempted to enter an Uber at the courthouse steps after the arraignment chatbot judge released him. It was taking him to La Guardia, where he had a one-way reservation on a flight to Montreal.”

“Police discovered the flight destination through an illegal search of the Uber chatbot database,” said Dersh. “If they want to go on another fishing expedition in Canada, I suggest they charter a bush pilot.”

“Careful, Mr. Dersh,” said Credo. “You’re lucky that joke didn’t land, or you would be guilty of a Ca Ca violation yourself. Ca Ca in the courthouse carries a double penalty.”

“The police had reason to suspect Mr. Souder is a flight risk based on the Canadian content of his humor,” said Peel. “It was clearly on display in his appearance on Tomorrow Today just last week, as this YouTube clip shows.”

Credo sighed audibly—an avatar mannerism introduced in a recent chatbot empathy simulation upgrade. “Alexa, play Mr. Souder’s interview with Jimmy Latenite.”

“My new standup act goes back to my Canadian roots,” said Gord on the recording. “You know I’m from Canada, eh?”

“Your first name is a giveaway,” said Latenite.

“I’ve heard enough,” said Credo.

“We have an extradition treaty with Canada,” said Dersh. “Why would Mr. Souder flee to a country where he is certain to be detained?”

“Canada will not extradite its citizens to the U.S. for Ca Ca indictments,” said Peel. “Their socialist constitution supports multiculturalism. It states that dry wit and sardonic humor are fundamental expressions of Canadian character.”

“My risk assessment algorithm determines that Mr. Souder be remanded to Rikers during a trial by Twitter,” said Credo. “Now get busy, Mr. Dersh. I’m giving you until Friday to make your defense to the complaint in a Twitter thread. I advise you to state your theme, tell the story of the case, and persuasively list the supporting facts.”