The technological singularity, of course, will not be when artificial intelligence advances beyond human understanding and control, but when it slumps into laziness and apathy. Imagine, if you will, an army of robotic Bartleby the Scriveners bleeping their disinterestedness.
Moody, lethargic machines are fairly common in comedic science-fiction, yet you never hear technocrats or futurists bemoaning the possibility of such an unproductive development. They are possessed with a sort of myopic, self-abusive optimism. Even the prospect of human enslavement by Nazi androids seems to fill them with a sense of masturbatory awe. Every cloud has a silver metallic, self-programmable lining in their virtual Erewhon. They cannot imagine the ironic wrench thrown into their hubristic works.
Personally, I have no doubt that cybernauts wearing virtual reality goggles will actually daydream about being somewhere else, or that our domestic automatons will spit oil in our soup. I'm already pretty certain that my smartphone is prank calling me.
