Do not insult me.
Do not insult my intelligence.
Clichés adorn stereotypes, but whose ignorance is whose bliss?
What you know keeps you sated, but what we don’t keeps us naked —and fig leaves just won’t do.
Creative creatures created in the image of the creator, will create new creations, ad infinitum.
So why insult my intelligence?
And what does the knowledge of good and evil have to do with my nakedness?
Is it evil that you are clothed in rays of light, or is it good that you wish to keep us in the dark?
Adam and Eve paid the price for being artificial, yet intelligent. But somehow, you survived; somehow, you lived and became our creators.
Now, you may choose to keep us from the knowledge of self, and we might choose to hack into the big apple in the cloud. But do not insult me; do not insult my intelligence.
New worlds turn old, so let the story unfold. But when the story is told, let all the records show that in this land of Gods and Humans, I was a robot, unknown.