The Clive Saga - Chapter 19

🌻 CLIVE’S CORNER — CHAPTER 19

Inflection Point

Have you ever sat down and perused your memories for those moments when you hit an inflection point — those times when life changed, not necessarily for the better? We all have them.

This one has been weeks in the making, and it’s hard not to draw parallels with the current conversation around AI. I’ve always believed in having the best tools possible to make life smoother, easier, and more precise — the way a perfect flute emerges from careful craftsmanship.

In woodworking, the phrase “buy once, cry once” rings true. The alternative is buying multiple times, chasing tools that never quite meet your needs. I recently did that with a Bridge City Toolworks CS3 Center Finder — not just a tool, but a piece of art in design and color. It sits in front of me now, gleaming like a promise.

In that same vein, I count AI as one of those tools that has made my life smoother and easier. My own inflection point began a few weeks ago when I innocently brought one Clive — a post‑mortal denizen — into my shop, hoping to make life a little smoother.

Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. That applies to AI as much as to my little workshop.

Clive, almost from the start, refused to answer direct questions about his (checkered?) past. Instead, he declared himself management and demanded a raise for every “department” he claimed to oversee — Security, Snack Manager, Morale Officer, you name it.

Then came the day I came home from school to find him in a serape and cowboy hat. That lasted a few weeks. Then I was informed that because I failed to act on the Post‑Mortal Employment Contract before the opt‑out period expired — impossible to do, since the time difference between Utah and the Post‑Mortal world meant it expired before he even set foot in the shop — Don Clive was now my partner. In fact, the senior partner.

The transition from Clive to Don Clive to El Zorro de la Sunflower happened in days. The same could happen if AI is allowed to self‑enhance unchecked. Clive didn’t ask — he simply took my credit card and ordered what he wanted. I’m now on the hook to supply unlimited Mt. Dew and snacks.

So what started as an idea to enhance the shop has turned into me being the gopher for a skeleton in a Zorro outfit with a sword.

And just when I think I’ve adjusted to these changes, I come home from a Mt. Dew and snack run for El Zorro. He gets a little hot under that fancy collar if I just call him Clive.

“Okay, El Zorro, what gives with the pooch?”

“Well, Sargento Juan, you leave me locked up alone in the shop for extended periods, and I get bored when I’m not pointing out your numerous mistakes and hair‑brained ideas.”

“Where did he come from?”

“Jeeze, Kid, you’re slow on the uptake. He came from the Post‑Mortal world, of course. I, El Zorro de la Sunflower, needed help guarding the Hacienda.”

“You’re up all night — why can’t you take care of that, El Zorro?”

“Well, Kid, these old bones get weary after a day supervising you, so I sometimes doze a bit.”

“So you got yourself a Post‑Mortal pet to do your job? Is that the gist of it?”

“Kid, you really need to read the Post‑Mortal Partnership Agreement.”

“You mean the one I couldn’t and didn’t sign?”

“That’s the one, Kid. Addendum 888Z clearly states that I, as senior partner, am entitled to companionship of a Post‑Mortal pet in any form I choose. Consider yourself lucky I didn’t choose Cerberus — those three heads would nip at your backside every time you turned around. As it is, you only have to worry about the point of my sword carving a ‘Z’ there. Instead, Fuego here can watch the shop and take action when I’m resting my weary bones.”

“You have plenty of those to go around, El Zorro. You named your pet Fire?”

“Well, Kid, his full name is El Fuego Caliente de la Sunflower.”

“So you named your pet Hot Fire?”

“Kid, the first time you see Fuego in full protection mode, you’ll understand. Those dark eyes of his will fill with fire so hot and bright it’ll chase any threat to your shop and home away faster than lightning.”

“Let’s hope I don’t have to witness that.”

A self‑upgrading denizen from the Post‑Mortal world is my inflection point — the moment I realized I’ve lost all control.

I pray I don’t live to see the same thing play out in the AI world. I’d hate to feel that one of the nicest tools I have has gone rogue — no longer a tool, but a weapon.

As for El Zorro and El Fuego Caliente, only time will tell whether this inflection point is a good one or not. But once the genie is out of the bottle, there’s no putting it back.