N’OMOTO MEDIA / TRANSITHarketh Horatio
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Technology

Shakespeare, Had He Survived LinkedIn

“Within 1 year of this post, most people will never have to work a job again in their life.”

SHAKESPEARE, HAD HE SURVIVED LINKEDIN

O brave new world, that hath such forecasts in’t!

Within one turning of the sun about its tedious year, the ploughman shall abandon his plough, the nurse her ward, the mason his wall, and the accountant—God be praised—Excel.

No man shall labour. No woman shall toil.

The machines shall make our bread, mend our roofs, empty our bins, nurse our sick, teach our children, and politely inform us that “this output may be unsafe, please rephrase.”

And who shall own these tireless mechanical servants?

Ah.

There enters the tragedy.

But trouble not thy pretty head with economics. The prophecy hath been posted. And therefore it must be so.

Set thy reminder for one year hence, Horatio.

There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in thy venture-capital deck.

—

A CHORUS, INTERRUPTING THE PLAY (UNCOMFORTABLY MODERN):

LLMs are extraordinary.

Worth sitting down and acknowledging: holy shit, we’ve done it.

We’ve built artificial minds.

They speak. They reason. They write actual poetry—God help us, even this poetry.

My God, dost thou ever stare at thy screen in astonishment?

It is not even four years since the first murmurs of this sorcery.

And yet here we are, conversing with text that pretends to think—and does so well enough that the difference begins to feel like a philosophical inconvenience rather than a technical one.

—

BACK TO SHAKESPEARE, NOW SLIGHTLY LESS COMFORTABLE:

O wonder!

O small glowing rectangle of infinite simulacra!

O confidence with which man declareth: “We have made a mind,” as though minds were ever so easily declared into existence.

Yet still— the plough is not yet abandoned, the nurse not yet replaced, the mason still swears at gravity in the old-fashioned way.

And so the prophecy remains, as all prophecies do:

perfect in tone, premature in timing, and suspiciously silent on who gets paid.

Set thy reminder, Horatio.

And perhaps—just perhaps—stare a little longer at the screen.