Welcome to tech Stuff, a production from iHeartRadio. Hey there, and welcome to tech Stuff. I'm your host, Jonathan Strickland. I'm an executive producer with iHeart Podcasts and How the Tech are You. So I was asked many months ago if I might do a holiday themed episode of tech Stuff, and I've done a few of those in the past, but I thought I would do something a little different this time. It's a one time only sort of thing, and I have no idea if anyone's even going to find it at all entertaining. But I've done it, so now you get to hear it. I am calling it the Text Stuff Christmas Carol. It is unabashedly a spoof on a Christmas Carol. It just is. It is one hundred percent that, and I'm talking about the Charles Dickens Christmas Carol. So if this sort of thing is is your thing, let me know. And if it's not, that's okay, because like I said, it's a one time only as this stuff takes a lot of work. So sit back, relax, and let old tech Stuff host Jonathan Strickland tell you a Christmas story. Here we go. Old Marley was canceled to begin with, there can be no doubt whatsoever about that his Facebook page was deactivated, his follower account on x dwindled to nothing, and a petition to have him removed from Twitch gathered thousands of signatures. Marley's career was as dead as a doornail elon. Scrooge knew this, of course, how could it be otherwise. Scrooge and Marley were partners for I don't know how many years of all the world. Only Scrooge mourned Marlee's fall, and even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by affair. But Old Scrooge never removed Marlee's name from the Scrooge and Marlee cryptocurrency Exchange, nor did he excise Marley's name from their YouTube channel. Such things would take effort and perhaps even cost money, and Scrooge found no reason to spend either. Of all the scheming crypto bros in the world, Scrooge was the worst, a conniving, opportunistic creature. Nowhere would you find a greater evangelist for questionable investments. There was not a Ponzi scheme or NFT exchange in all of Old London Town that Scrooge was not behind, he would buy the dip, and he would hoddle until the ends of time if he were able. He seemed to value nothing other than money and technology. And while the currencies he peddled consisted of zeros in one, he had a tendency to prefer cash of a more fiat nature for his own means, and meanly did he collect it and hoard it and do everything he could not to spend it. His primary occupation was that of a crypto lender. He would loan money out to anyone with great enough interest, and every loan carried interest that was truly great. He would funnel cryptocurrency into loans used to purchase the very NFTs he himself had minted, then make money off the interest payments on top. And how he did love to see the numbers in his online ledger grow. Once upon a time, on Christmas Eve, of all days, Old Scrooge was busy creating a real for Instagram. His assistant, one Bob Cratchett, would normally have held the smartphone for Old Scrooge, but earlier in that year, Scrooge had fired his loyal assistant in favor of an automated algorithm that could tally up sums much faster, and never complained about how cold the counting house would be. Scrooge was therefore struggling with keeping his phone propped up against some old books. He was far too miserly to purchase a simple desktop tripod and ring lights set up. He was just about to record his message on how Dickens coins were about to go to the moon and everyone should take out loans to buy as much as they could, when the bell above his door went jingling ling. Scrooge turned to see who had dared interrupt him, and he groaned out loud when he saw it was his good for nothing nephew Fred. Happy Christmas, Uncle, Scrooge, the fool, called out, Bah, said Scrooge, humbug Christmas, A humbug, Uncle, said the nephew. You cannot mean that. Scrooge turned on his nephew. I mean every word. What right have you to be merry? You're poor enough? Fred rejoined with and what right have you to be dismal you're rich enough? Scrooge snorted. There's no such thing as rich enough, only poor enough. Uncle said Fred. What's Christmas time for you but a time to purchase things? You cannot afford for people you barely know and frequently do not like. You find yourself a year older and not an hour richer. If I had my way, every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas upon his lips would be run down by an autonomous vehicle. You may keep your Christmas in your way, and I will keep it in mine. Uncle. I came here to invite you to dine with us tomorrow, said Fred. Good afternoon, replied Scrooge, And that was all he had to say. Fred turned and said the invitation remains open, and I wish you a merry Christmas, Uncle, and a happy New Year. And with that Fred left. Scrooge turned back to his real recording, only to hear the bell above his door ring again. He was prepared to hurl a host of insults at his nephew, only to turn and see it was not Fred who was at the door. Instead, he saw a pair of people, modestly dressed, beaming pleasant smiles toward him. One of them stepped forward and said, do I have the pleasure of addressing mister Scrooge or mister Marley. Scrooge sneered, Marley has been canceled. These last seven years, seven years ago to this day. In fact, I cannot have him haunt this office, for the woke among you would turn on my business entire in a heartbeat. Oh Marley, how unfair it is that the public has the un reasonable expectation that you should be held accountable for your own actions, said Scrooge. The beaming smiles on the faces of the visitors faltered for a moment. Quite said the young man who had stepped forward his companion, A kindly looking woman, took the opportunity to step forward herself. We are here collecting for the poor and destitute, many of whom are in need of medical attention. To that end, we have set up a GoFundMe and wanted to know what we should put you down for. And with that she held out a smartphone with a QR code displayed upon it. Scrooge could barely contain his disgust. He looked at the two interlopers and said one word nothing. You wish to be anonymous, said the young man. I wish to be left alone. I don't make marry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people marry. Are there no so free clinics there are, though they are overwhelmed and have few supplies. The kindly woman said sadly. Then they should seek comfort there and not with me, said Scrooge. But sir, with the centers overwhelmed, many won't be able to receive care. They might die, objected the young man. If they are to die, then they'd better do it and decrease the surplus population, decried Scrooge, and he found a small element of joy in the horror shown in the faces of the young man and woman trolling. Scrooge thought always had within it a certain value of entertainment. The two realized their efforts were in vain, and they left. Scrooge finally recorded his Instagram reel proclaiming Dickens Coin to be the next ticket to wealth, and that to purchase that ticket one should first secure a loan from his very own cryptocurrency count house. Of course, it was a poorly lit video and the angle was off due to the smartphone leaning at a slight angle against the stack of books, but it would suit Scrooge's purpose. He uploaded it, posted it to Reddit, YouTube and other places as well, and then looked up from his labors. He was surprised to see that the hours of the day were done and that the time of closing was at hand. Thankfully, his automated algorithm, whom Scrooge called Cratchet two point zero, would work away the hours without the need for a break. Scrooge allowed himself a thin, greedy smile. Then he donned his scarf and gloves and stepped out of the shop to lock up for the night. Scrooge then made his way home, which once was Marlee's old home, but Marley hadn't been seen in town for seven years. It was thought that he once joined S. B. F's crew down in the Caribbean, only to flee mere hours before the authorities descended upon the property where he was now No one could say, not even Scrooge. As he walked up to the front door, he thought for a moment that he could actually see Marley's face reflected in the ring doorbell camera elong screwe, it seemed to say. Scrooge jumped at the site, but in a blink of an eye he saw that only the doorbell remained. Humbug, Scrooge said, and thought idly that some Amazon employees were likely having a real laugh over the site of Scrooge's countenance on the video feed. Maybe the local police as well, there was a real surveillance state. Scrooge let himself in and then considered what to do about supper. He had several meal kits in various states of decay in his refrigerator. When there was a promotional offer on one of the financial podcasts that Scrooge subscribed to, he would sign up in order to get free food. Free is the best cost. But the meal kits require you to cook, and such a pleasurable activity seemed far beneath the elon Scrooge. So those meal kits mostly just sat in the fridge and slowly evolved into moldy life forms. Scrooge instead chose his old go to for dinner, a quick order on door dash for a bowl of gruel. Yep, nothing hits home like some tasteless gruel late at night. Within twenty five minutes his order had arrived. He left no tip, of course, and Scrooge turned to carry the gruel up to his room. As he climbed the stairs, he thought he saw a hearse drive up the staircase in front of him. A hearse with a tesla badge on it. It looked even uglier than the truck. But Scrooge, resolute and unwilling to give into fear, continued on his way. He did, however, allow himself a little more light than usual. Once he reached his room Alexa, he called out, make all the lights fifteen percent bright. That was five percent more than his habit, but Scrooge wished to preserve the life of those led smart bulbs for as long as possible. They were costly and darkness was cheap. Satisfied that no intruder lurked in the shadows, he sat down to eat his gruel, but then his phone buzzed. It was an alert from his ring security system. It said someone was at the door, but Scrooge saw nothing on the video feed. Then he got alerts from cameras all around his home, one after the other, and no screen showed a soul in sight. Then Scrooge heard steps on the staircase below, steadily climbing up and ending on the other side of the door, And then in an instant, a figure passed through the door itself. Scrooge recognized it at once. It was Marlee. Okay, we're gonna take a quick break from this goofy spoof of a Christmas carol to thank our sponsor. We'll be right back. Scrooge stared at Marlee. He was just as Scrooge had remembered him seven Christmases ago, except that now Scrooge could literally see through Marley, whereas before it was actually just he could metaphorically see through Marley. You understand what I'm saying, Marlee's hologram. Scrooge proclaimed, What do you want with me? Much said Marlee is acquired of every person, that the spirit within them should walk abroad among others and travel far and wide. And if this is not to happen in life, it must happen in death. Death, called out Scrooge. But Marlee, you aren't dead. Marley's hologram looked at Scrooge, his face expressionless. Seven years of not being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, without having to consider accountability might as well be death. Listen carefully, Scrooge, for my time is short. Tonight you shall be visited by three chat bots I would rather not, said Scrooge. Expect the first tomorrow when your digital clocks shows one, continued Marley. The second when the clock shows two. And the third when the clock shows three. You always did like Alec Ginnis Marley, and you're a good man of business, said Scrooge. Mankind should have been my business. Look to see me no more, And with that, Marley's hologram faded back through the wall. Scrooge sat for a moment and then said, humbug. But he only dimmed the lights to twelve percent brightness, and he went straight to bed, whereupon he fell asleep. An hour later, his smartphone buzzed in alarm. As Scrooge woke to turn it off, he saw a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed. Who and what are you, he cried out. The figure stepped forward, revealing a low fie pixelated woman in professional attire. I am the chatbot of Christmas Past. You may call me Eliza long past, asked Scrooge. You're past, said Eliza. How does that make you feel? But oh a bit uneasy if I'm being on, said Scrooge. Why are you feeling uneasy, asked Eliza. Why because a strange apparition is in my bedroom, yelled Scrooge. Why is a strange apparition as in my bedroom? Asked Eliza. Well that doesn't make any sense. Wait a second, are you just taking things I say and then turning them into questions? So it sounds like you're psychoanalyzing me, asked Scrooge. Eliza's face was far too low resolution to display a smile, but Scrooge detected one in her voice. Come, Scrooge, we must visit your past, and we haven't much time with that. She grasped his ankle. He felt a strange tingling sensation, and next thing he knew he was in a lecture hall tell me, said Eliza. Do you recognize this? This is my old artificial intelligence class at Stanford, said Scrooge. And there's Professor Finn. She taught me everything I know about machine learning? And how much is that? Asked Eliza. Not that much, But that wasn't her fault. I dropped out of Stanford that year, said Scrooge. Yes, you missed the classes on ethics and bias, it would seem, said Eliza. Humbug, muttered Scrooge, though he did so without much emphasis behind it impractical. Professor Fenn had many more lessons for you. It's a shame you didn't stick around to hear them, said Eliza, Scrooge remained silent. But then we have another appointment. Off we go, and with that Eliza took Scrooge's wrist and the two appeared in a large office space filled with workstations. Do you know where we are, Scrooge asked Eliza. Why this is the old Fezzy dot Whig office. Well, it was a we work office, and then we rented it with some seed money. But it was for the Fezzi dot Wig app It was my first cryptoc and the application. Look there I am as a young man, and over there is young Marley. Scrooge was beside himself. Hello Marley, these are but visions of the past, said Eliza. They can neither see nor hear you. Scrooge watched, amazed at the site before him. There was Marlee, there was himself, and then there was their benefactor, Old f w himself. Scrooge's smile faltered. Tell me, said Eliza FW. There wasn't he the man who provided the seed money you spoke of. He did more than that, said Scrooge. He gave us advice. He taught us to be careful with our money. He taught us how to set up a business and how to position a startup to be attractive to angel investors. And how did you repay this kindness? Asked Eliza. Scrooge looked down. We met in secret after we made our first billion, voted him out, returned his initial investment, and then we kept the rest. Seems to me that you learned his lessons very well, then, said Eliza. Scrooge remained silent. Well, come along, there's one last vision I have to show you, And with that, Scrooge was whisked away. Once more. Scrooge saw a younger version of himself standing before him, phone in hand, his eyes locked on the screen. A young woman was talking to his younger self. But the fool just wasn't paying attention. This says bell, I believe, asked Eliza, you met on tender Scrooge choked back a sob We did. I at one time thought the day she swiped right was the luckiest day of my life. And yet here you are glued to a screen rather than heeding the words of your love. What was so important that you couldn't pull your attention away, asked Eliza. I was watching my coinbase account. Crypto coins were fluctuating wildly that day, and one moment I would be up and the next moment down. I couldn't look away, said Scrooge. But what exactly could you have done about it, asked Eliza. Scrooge's shoulders slumped. Nothing. The transaction time with these crypto coins is so long that even if I were to spring on a spike, there was no guarantee the spike would hold before the transaction ended. I could really only just stand and watch. Scrooge watched as the young woman, disheartened, turned away from his younger self, walking off for a little while before opening up her own smartphone tender app and searching through the profiles. And so you let her go over a matter you could do nothing about, said Eliza. Chat Butt, cried Scrooge, I can take no more of this. Comport me home, and in a blink of an eye he found himself back in bed, but he could not relax for a second. Later, his clock displayed the hour of two. Suddenly, lights shone into the bedroom from every angle, as if all of Scrooge's smart lights went straight to one hundred percent, And there, standing in a confident pose, was a woman in a fur lined green robe. Get up, Scrooge, and know me better. She said, Am I to understand you are the chatbot of Christmas Present? Asked Scrooge, I am, though you may call me Alexa, said the vision. You have never seen my life before or met any of my elder siblings born in these later years. I do not believe I have. Do you have many siblings, asked Scrooge. More than two thousand, laughed the chat bot. Now take hold of my robe. We have much to see. Scrooge did as he was told, and in a moment found himself outside in an apartment window. Inside the apartment, he could see a family, and he could hear what they were saying. In a moment, he realized it was the family of his former employee, Bob Cratchit. Where's father, asked a young girl. Oh, you know your dad. He's gigging. He's driving for Uber at the moment, or was it delivering for instacart? Hall's I know is he's working hard for all of us, as are your older brothers and sisters, said a matronlee woman whom Scrooge assumed was Cratchit's wife. Cratch It is a gig economy worker, asked Scrooge, what else, said Alexa? Jobs are hard to come by, What with companies like yours eliminating hard working humans in favor of cold algorithms, and those older staff who are holding on to positions longer because they haven't saved enough to retire, so they're not leaving. What choice did Bob Cratchit have. Scrooge looked at the apartment. It was modestly furnished, with many pieces appearing to be at best secondhand. Is is he going for shabby sh by any chance? Asked Scrooge. Alexa rolled her eyes. You think the style was on purpose? It was from necessity. Did you know? Bob Cratchit works more hours now than he ever did while working for your company, but he earns less and he has no benefits. Take a look at that child over there by the corner, Scrooge did, and saw a young boy sitting next to an old pair of crutches. Who is that? That? Said Alexa? Is tiny Tim cratch Its young son? Is he ill? Asked Scrooge, with growing concern. He is not well, replied Alexa grimly. Will the child live? Asked Scrooge. Alexa closed her eyes and said, if things do not change from how they are, I see an unused pair of crutches leaning on the wall in an empty chair where Tim now sits. No, gasped Scrooge, Why the concern, screwg If he might die, he'd better do it and decrease the surplus population. Scrooge swallowed hard. Perhaps I was over hasty in relieving Cratchet of his situation. And after all, cratch It never once caused a microcrash of the market due to too many crypto trades in the span of a second, unlike that algorithm. Alexa looked down on Scrooge without comment, What else do you see? Scrooge looked again. They're happy even in the state therein And with that the door to the apartment opened, and in walked pob cratch It. He looked older and thinner than when Scrooge saw him last. He had less hair, but the smile on his face upon seeing his family transformed him into a young man again. Merry Christmas, Cratchets, he proclaimed. Scrooge dabbed at his eyes. Perhaps I'll pay cratch It a visit and see if he might consider returning to the firm. Alexa gave no reply but to say, take hold of my robe. We've other place to be. With that, the pairs zipped across town to a different home, an unremarkable but friendly looking house with Christmas decorations hung haphazardly around it. Alexi said, I am not surprised you do not recognize this place, for you've never set foot here. But we are at your nephew Fred's home. Scrooge scowled, what four, Alexa replied, to see how your nephew keeps Christmas in his own way, while you leave it alone. With that, the two walked to a window and they gazed inward. Scrooge saw a holiday party in full swing, with guests laughing and eating and drinking and talking with one another, and over them all he could hear Fred say a toast to Uncle Scrooge, that comical old fellow. Why he's the richest man I know, and yet all that money does him no good. He doesn't use it to make himself comfortable or to help others with it. It's a sad lot, i'd say, for someone to have all that money and no sense of value. Scrooge felt himself take a sharp breath. What but my accounts? And Alexa then shushed Scrooge, He's not finished Fred continued, I am sorry for him, for the person who suffers most from his miserly behavior is himself. He gains a small boost in mood when he sells an NFT or closes on a crypto loan, but as soon as that moment's over, so is the thrill he has left waiting for that next opportunity. It's never about the now, It's always about the next. You know. They say, work fast and break things, and I'm afraid my poor uncle is well and truly broken. It is a sad state, for in denying himself the company of others, he misses out on pleasant moments that would cost him nothing and give him everything. Scrooge turned his face away, feeling a sense of shame. The party then turned to party gains, which fascinated Scrooge. He had studied game theory, but only so far as it would benefit him in business. Watching others take pleasure in games, reveling in cleverness and wordplay made Scrooge feel as though he was really missing out. But just as the party was about to start a new game, Alexa turned to him, it is time for us to go, and without waiting for Scrooge's Protestations. She brought him home heed this lesson, well, Scrooge. Money and technology can make things easier. They can, with the right use, make lives better and help others. But to accumulate them for their own sake is a path you do not wish to tread. My time has come, and so I must say good night. And with that, Alexa, visibly older since her initial appearance, faded away. Moments passed, and then Scrooge's smartphone buzzed once and then went dead. The digital clock went dark as well. Before Scrooge could verify that it was three in the monsing, all the lights in his house went out, and no calling for Alexa to turn them on again would work. But then Scrooge spied a glow, a faint blue glow, growing brighter and closer. Scrooge leaned out of his bed to get a better look and saw a rectangular form approaching, and as it got closer he could make out white text upon the blue rectangle. It was as Scrooge feared, the blue screen of death. Are you the third chat Bot whose visitation was foretold to me? Asked Scrooge. The Blue Screen of death said nothing, chat Bot, I fear you more than any other I have seen. But I know that your presence here is for my benefit, and so let us to it, said Scrooge, with more bravery than he actually felt. And with that he had an odd sensation, as if control all delete had been pressed upon his entire life, and he found himself looking at a group of strangers. I didn't think he'd ever die, said the first. Neither did I old Coot was trying to figure out how digital immortality could work. Last I heard, I was convinced he'd find a way to live in our computers forever, said the second person, a real ghost to the machine. I'm glad it didn't work out. He was scary enough in life, said a third. What do you think happened to all his money? Asked yet another. I don't know. I only know he didn't leave it to me, said the first. The second piped up with I heard he dumped it all in doge coin just before it kicked the bucket, and then the coin crashed and wiped out every cent of his wealth. The strangers all shook their heads. What a waste. Scrooge turned to the blue screen of death. So this person who has passed on. He spent his life accumulating great wealth, and then at the end it just went away, as if it had never even been there in the first place. I get your meaning. Chat bought of the future. I see now what Alexa told me before, that pursuing money and tech for its own sake has no value in it. But who was this poor soul? The chat bought A Christmas as yet to come turned slightly, casting blue light on a graveyard. Scrooge turned and saw a pair of grave diggers walking off from a fresh grave that had a new headstone. He walked forward, and he saw that the name carved in the stone was E. Scrooge Ebeneezer, my cousin. Well that's sad, said Elon Scrooge. The blue screen of death let a sigh. Oh wait, you mean to indicate this this is my grave? What a twist. No one would ever see that coming. I mean, that's a real shocker you have there. I promise that would be a better man than I once was. That I will value the people in my life, that I will help those whom I can, and then my focus will be on things that have real value. I will keep Christmas in my heart all the year round, claimed Scrooge. The light from the blue Screen of Death grew dimmer, and Scrooge, through his pleading, felt his back press up against the cold headstone. As all light faded around him. He could feel the chill freshly dug earth beneath him, and all sounds began to fade. And then in a heartbeat, he was surrounded by light, and he found himself in his own bed, in his own home. He sprung out of bed and checked his smartphone calendar Christmas Day. He hadn't missed it. The chatbots had done it all in one night. Right away, Scrooge placed a hefty order on Instacart to deliver a veritable feast to the crotched apartment, and off he went. He used his Amazon app to have a pile of toys and clothes and a new pair of crutches sent as well, all guaranteed to be delivered within four hours. And if you don't think someone is being exploited to make that happen, you're fooling yourself. He ordered a way Mood driverless vehicle to take him straight to the Cratchitt's house. The weima only got confused a couple of times, and despite some close calls on those icy streets, didn't get into any actual accidents that time. Scrooge arrived just as the deliveries did, and he positioned himself in the back behind everyone else as they walked up to the Cratchit's door. Bob answered the door himself, and Scrooge was delighted at seeing Bob's confused face as he found himself the recipient of foods and gifts beyond his counting. Finally, Scrooge stepped up to Bob as the last delivery person left, and Bob's eyes got even larger, if such a thing were possible, Mister Scrooge, he said, it's me, Bob. I've come to wish you merry Christmas and to delight her a backlog of gifts I've owed you and your wonderful family for many years, as well as to make an offer to you. I want you back at the Crypto Firm, but not as clerk. I want you there as partner, and we can find a way to take the wealth we've generated and pour it back into the community. No need to give me an answer right now. Enjoy your Christmas, Bob Cratchit was clearly dazed by all this, but blurted out, I accept and a very merry Christmas to you too, mister Scrooge. I'll have the new sign. Cratch It and Scrooge made up after the holiday, said Scrooge. Now I must be off. I have a family invitation I have neglected for too long. God bless you, mister Scrooge, said Bob Cratchit, and from behind him, a little voice belonging to tiny Tim said God bless us everyone. The end. All right, that concludes story time here at Tech Stuff. I had a lot of fun writing that very silly spoof, and I hope you enjoyed it. It certainly has more than a few of my opinions very obviously peppered throughout. I know, I don't even need to say that. Everybody picked it up. It's so it's so obvious, it's undeniable. But it kind of gives me a little a space to vent right and to kind of talk about some things that I think are important that we often lose sight of when we're doing things like covering technology. I do think technology has the amazing potential to help people and to make lives better, but it requires a lot of patience and stewardship to make sure that happens and that it doesn't just become some sort of get rich quick pathway for you know, small startups. Anyway, I hope you are all having an amazing holiday season. I know this one was Christmas centric, but really I wish you all happiness and health. However it is you celebrate, whatever you celebrate, I hope you and your families and friends all have a wonderful holiday season. And thank you so much for listening. I'll talk to you again really soon. Tech Stuff is an iHeartRadio production. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.

Welcome to tech Stuff, a production from iHeartRadio. Hey there, and welcome to tech Stuff. I'm your host, Jonathan Strickland. I'm an executive producer with iHeart Podcasts and How the Tech are You. So I was asked many months ago if I might do a holiday themed episode of tech Stuff, and I've done a few of those in the past, but I thought I would do something a little different this time. It's a one time only sort of thing, and I have no idea if anyone's even going to find it at all entertaining. But I've done it, so now you get to hear it. I am calling it the Text Stuff Christmas Carol. It is unabashedly a spoof on a Christmas Carol. It just is. It is one hundred percent that, and I'm talking about the Charles Dickens Christmas Carol. So if this sort of thing is is your thing, let me know. And if it's not, that's okay, because like I said, it's a one time only as this stuff takes a lot of work. So sit back, relax, and let old tech Stuff host Jonathan Strickland tell you a Christmas story. Here we go. Old Marley was canceled to begin with, there can be no doubt whatsoever about that his Facebook page was deactivated, his follower account on x dwindled to nothing, and a petition to have him removed from Twitch gathered thousands of signatures. Marley's career was as dead as a doornail elon. Scrooge knew this, of course, how could it be otherwise. Scrooge and Marley were partners for I don't know how many years of all the world. Only Scrooge mourned Marlee's fall, and even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by affair. But Old Scrooge never removed Marlee's name from the Scrooge and Marlee cryptocurrency Exchange, nor did he excise Marley's name from their YouTube channel. Such things would take effort and perhaps even cost money, and Scrooge found no reason to spend either. Of all the scheming crypto bros in the world, Scrooge was the worst, a conniving, opportunistic creature. Nowhere would you find a greater evangelist for questionable investments. There was not a Ponzi scheme or NFT exchange in all of Old London Town that Scrooge was not behind, he would buy the dip, and he would hoddle until the ends of time if he were able. He seemed to value nothing other than money and technology. And while the currencies he peddled consisted of zeros in one, he had a tendency to prefer cash of a more fiat nature for his own means, and meanly did he collect it and hoard it and do everything he could not to spend it. His primary occupation was that of a crypto lender. He would loan money out to anyone with great enough interest, and every loan carried interest that was truly great. He would funnel cryptocurrency into loans used to purchase the very NFTs he himself had minted, then make money off the interest payments on top. And how he did love to see the numbers in his online ledger grow. Once upon a time, on Christmas Eve, of all days, Old Scrooge was busy creating a real for Instagram. His assistant, one Bob Cratchett, would normally have held the smartphone for Old Scrooge, but earlier in that year, Scrooge had fired his loyal assistant in favor of an automated algorithm that could tally up sums much faster, and never complained about how cold the counting house would be. Scrooge was therefore struggling with keeping his phone propped up against some old books. He was far too miserly to purchase a simple desktop tripod and ring lights set up. He was just about to record his message on how Dickens coins were about to go to the moon and everyone should take out loans to buy as much as they could, when the bell above his door went jingling ling. Scrooge turned to see who had dared interrupt him, and he groaned out loud when he saw it was his good for nothing nephew Fred. Happy Christmas, Uncle, Scrooge, the fool, called out, Bah, said Scrooge, humbug Christmas, A humbug, Uncle, said the nephew. You cannot mean that. Scrooge turned on his nephew. I mean every word. What right have you to be merry? You're poor enough? Fred rejoined with and what right have you to be dismal you're rich enough? Scrooge snorted. There's no such thing as rich enough, only poor enough. Uncle said Fred. What's Christmas time for you but a time to purchase things? You cannot afford for people you barely know and frequently do not like. You find yourself a year older and not an hour richer. If I had my way, every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas upon his lips would be run down by an autonomous vehicle. You may keep your Christmas in your way, and I will keep it in mine. Uncle. I came here to invite you to dine with us tomorrow, said Fred. Good afternoon, replied Scrooge, And that was all he had to say. Fred turned and said the invitation remains open, and I wish you a merry Christmas, Uncle, and a happy New Year. And with that Fred left. Scrooge turned back to his real recording, only to hear the bell above his door ring again. He was prepared to hurl a host of insults at his nephew, only to turn and see it was not Fred who was at the door. Instead, he saw a pair of people, modestly dressed, beaming pleasant smiles toward him. One of them stepped forward and said, do I have the pleasure of addressing mister Scrooge or mister Marley. Scrooge sneered, Marley has been canceled. These last seven years, seven years ago to this day. In fact, I cannot have him haunt this office, for the woke among you would turn on my business entire in a heartbeat. Oh Marley, how unfair it is that the public has the un reasonable expectation that you should be held accountable for your own actions, said Scrooge. The beaming smiles on the faces of the visitors faltered for a moment. Quite said the young man who had stepped forward his companion, A kindly looking woman, took the opportunity to step forward herself. We are here collecting for the poor and destitute, many of whom are in need of medical attention. To that end, we have set up a GoFundMe and wanted to know what we should put you down for. And with that she held out a smartphone with a QR code displayed upon it. Scrooge could barely contain his disgust. He looked at the two interlopers and said one word nothing. You wish to be anonymous, said the young man. I wish to be left alone. I don't make marry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people marry. Are there no so free clinics there are, though they are overwhelmed and have few supplies. The kindly woman said sadly. Then they should seek comfort there and not with me, said Scrooge. But sir, with the centers overwhelmed, many won't be able to receive care. They might die, objected the young man. If they are to die, then they'd better do it and decrease the surplus population, decried Scrooge, and he found a small element of joy in the horror shown in the faces of the young man and woman trolling. Scrooge thought always had within it a certain value of entertainment. The two realized their efforts were in vain, and they left. Scrooge finally recorded his Instagram reel proclaiming Dickens Coin to be the next ticket to wealth, and that to purchase that ticket one should first secure a loan from his very own cryptocurrency count house. Of course, it was a poorly lit video and the angle was off due to the smartphone leaning at a slight angle against the stack of books, but it would suit Scrooge's purpose. He uploaded it, posted it to Reddit, YouTube and other places as well, and then looked up from his labors. He was surprised to see that the hours of the day were done and that the time of closing was at hand. Thankfully, his automated algorithm, whom Scrooge called Cratchet two point zero, would work away the hours without the need for a break. Scrooge allowed himself a thin, greedy smile. Then he donned his scarf and gloves and stepped out of the shop to lock up for the night. Scrooge then made his way home, which once was Marlee's old home, but Marley hadn't been seen in town for seven years. It was thought that he once joined S. B. F's crew down in the Caribbean, only to flee mere hours before the authorities descended upon the property where he was now No one could say, not even Scrooge. As he walked up to the front door, he thought for a moment that he could actually see Marley's face reflected in the ring doorbell camera elong screwe, it seemed to say. Scrooge jumped at the site, but in a blink of an eye he saw that only the doorbell remained. Humbug, Scrooge said, and thought idly that some Amazon employees were likely having a real laugh over the site of Scrooge's countenance on the video feed. Maybe the local police as well, there was a real surveillance state. Scrooge let himself in and then considered what to do about supper. He had several meal kits in various states of decay in his refrigerator. When there was a promotional offer on one of the financial podcasts that Scrooge subscribed to, he would sign up in order to get free food. Free is the best cost. But the meal kits require you to cook, and such a pleasurable activity seemed far beneath the elon Scrooge. So those meal kits mostly just sat in the fridge and slowly evolved into moldy life forms. Scrooge instead chose his old go to for dinner, a quick order on door dash for a bowl of gruel. Yep, nothing hits home like some tasteless gruel late at night. Within twenty five minutes his order had arrived. He left no tip, of course, and Scrooge turned to carry the gruel up to his room. As he climbed the stairs, he thought he saw a hearse drive up the staircase in front of him. A hearse with a tesla badge on it. It looked even uglier than the truck. But Scrooge, resolute and unwilling to give into fear, continued on his way. He did, however, allow himself a little more light than usual. Once he reached his room Alexa, he called out, make all the lights fifteen percent bright. That was five percent more than his habit, but Scrooge wished to preserve the life of those led smart bulbs for as long as possible. They were costly and darkness was cheap. Satisfied that no intruder lurked in the shadows, he sat down to eat his gruel, but then his phone buzzed. It was an alert from his ring security system. It said someone was at the door, but Scrooge saw nothing on the video feed. Then he got alerts from cameras all around his home, one after the other, and no screen showed a soul in sight. Then Scrooge heard steps on the staircase below, steadily climbing up and ending on the other side of the door, And then in an instant, a figure passed through the door itself. Scrooge recognized it at once. It was Marlee. Okay, we're gonna take a quick break from this goofy spoof of a Christmas carol to thank our sponsor. We'll be right back. Scrooge stared at Marlee. He was just as Scrooge had remembered him seven Christmases ago, except that now Scrooge could literally see through Marley, whereas before it was actually just he could metaphorically see through Marley. You understand what I'm saying, Marlee's hologram. Scrooge proclaimed, What do you want with me? Much said Marlee is acquired of every person, that the spirit within them should walk abroad among others and travel far and wide. And if this is not to happen in life, it must happen in death. Death, called out Scrooge. But Marlee, you aren't dead. Marley's hologram looked at Scrooge, his face expressionless. Seven years of not being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, without having to consider accountability might as well be death. Listen carefully, Scrooge, for my time is short. Tonight you shall be visited by three chat bots I would rather not, said Scrooge. Expect the first tomorrow when your digital clocks shows one, continued Marley. The second when the clock shows two. And the third when the clock shows three. You always did like Alec Ginnis Marley, and you're a good man of business, said Scrooge. Mankind should have been my business. Look to see me no more, And with that, Marley's hologram faded back through the wall. Scrooge sat for a moment and then said, humbug. But he only dimmed the lights to twelve percent brightness, and he went straight to bed, whereupon he fell asleep. An hour later, his smartphone buzzed in alarm. As Scrooge woke to turn it off, he saw a shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed. Who and what are you, he cried out. The figure stepped forward, revealing a low fie pixelated woman in professional attire. I am the chatbot of Christmas Past. You may call me Eliza long past, asked Scrooge. You're past, said Eliza. How does that make you feel? But oh a bit uneasy if I'm being on, said Scrooge. Why are you feeling uneasy, asked Eliza. Why because a strange apparition is in my bedroom, yelled Scrooge. Why is a strange apparition as in my bedroom? Asked Eliza. Well that doesn't make any sense. Wait a second, are you just taking things I say and then turning them into questions? So it sounds like you're psychoanalyzing me, asked Scrooge. Eliza's face was far too low resolution to display a smile, but Scrooge detected one in her voice. Come, Scrooge, we must visit your past, and we haven't much time with that. She grasped his ankle. He felt a strange tingling sensation, and next thing he knew he was in a lecture hall tell me, said Eliza. Do you recognize this? This is my old artificial intelligence class at Stanford, said Scrooge. And there's Professor Finn. She taught me everything I know about machine learning? And how much is that? Asked Eliza. Not that much, But that wasn't her fault. I dropped out of Stanford that year, said Scrooge. Yes, you missed the classes on ethics and bias, it would seem, said Eliza. Humbug, muttered Scrooge, though he did so without much emphasis behind it impractical. Professor Fenn had many more lessons for you. It's a shame you didn't stick around to hear them, said Eliza, Scrooge remained silent. But then we have another appointment. Off we go, and with that Eliza took Scrooge's wrist and the two appeared in a large office space filled with workstations. Do you know where we are, Scrooge asked Eliza. Why this is the old Fezzy dot Whig office. Well, it was a we work office, and then we rented it with some seed money. But it was for the Fezzi dot Wig app It was my first cryptoc and the application. Look there I am as a young man, and over there is young Marley. Scrooge was beside himself. Hello Marley, these are but visions of the past, said Eliza. They can neither see nor hear you. Scrooge watched, amazed at the site before him. There was Marlee, there was himself, and then there was their benefactor, Old f w himself. Scrooge's smile faltered. Tell me, said Eliza FW. There wasn't he the man who provided the seed money you spoke of. He did more than that, said Scrooge. He gave us advice. He taught us to be careful with our money. He taught us how to set up a business and how to position a startup to be attractive to angel investors. And how did you repay this kindness? Asked Eliza. Scrooge looked down. We met in secret after we made our first billion, voted him out, returned his initial investment, and then we kept the rest. Seems to me that you learned his lessons very well, then, said Eliza. Scrooge remained silent. Well, come along, there's one last vision I have to show you, And with that, Scrooge was whisked away. Once more. Scrooge saw a younger version of himself standing before him, phone in hand, his eyes locked on the screen. A young woman was talking to his younger self. But the fool just wasn't paying attention. This says bell, I believe, asked Eliza, you met on tender Scrooge choked back a sob We did. I at one time thought the day she swiped right was the luckiest day of my life. And yet here you are glued to a screen rather than heeding the words of your love. What was so important that you couldn't pull your attention away, asked Eliza. I was watching my coinbase account. Crypto coins were fluctuating wildly that day, and one moment I would be up and the next moment down. I couldn't look away, said Scrooge. But what exactly could you have done about it, asked Eliza. Scrooge's shoulders slumped. Nothing. The transaction time with these crypto coins is so long that even if I were to spring on a spike, there was no guarantee the spike would hold before the transaction ended. I could really only just stand and watch. Scrooge watched as the young woman, disheartened, turned away from his younger self, walking off for a little while before opening up her own smartphone tender app and searching through the profiles. And so you let her go over a matter you could do nothing about, said Eliza. Chat Butt, cried Scrooge, I can take no more of this. Comport me home, and in a blink of an eye he found himself back in bed, but he could not relax for a second. Later, his clock displayed the hour of two. Suddenly, lights shone into the bedroom from every angle, as if all of Scrooge's smart lights went straight to one hundred percent, And there, standing in a confident pose, was a woman in a fur lined green robe. Get up, Scrooge, and know me better. She said, Am I to understand you are the chatbot of Christmas Present? Asked Scrooge, I am, though you may call me Alexa, said the vision. You have never seen my life before or met any of my elder siblings born in these later years. I do not believe I have. Do you have many siblings, asked Scrooge. More than two thousand, laughed the chat bot. Now take hold of my robe. We have much to see. Scrooge did as he was told, and in a moment found himself outside in an apartment window. Inside the apartment, he could see a family, and he could hear what they were saying. In a moment, he realized it was the family of his former employee, Bob Cratchit. Where's father, asked a young girl. Oh, you know your dad. He's gigging. He's driving for Uber at the moment, or was it delivering for instacart? Hall's I know is he's working hard for all of us, as are your older brothers and sisters, said a matronlee woman whom Scrooge assumed was Cratchit's wife. Cratch It is a gig economy worker, asked Scrooge, what else, said Alexa? Jobs are hard to come by, What with companies like yours eliminating hard working humans in favor of cold algorithms, and those older staff who are holding on to positions longer because they haven't saved enough to retire, so they're not leaving. What choice did Bob Cratchit have. Scrooge looked at the apartment. It was modestly furnished, with many pieces appearing to be at best secondhand. Is is he going for shabby sh by any chance? Asked Scrooge. Alexa rolled her eyes. You think the style was on purpose? It was from necessity. Did you know? Bob Cratchit works more hours now than he ever did while working for your company, but he earns less and he has no benefits. Take a look at that child over there by the corner, Scrooge did, and saw a young boy sitting next to an old pair of crutches. Who is that? That? Said Alexa? Is tiny Tim cratch Its young son? Is he ill? Asked Scrooge, with growing concern. He is not well, replied Alexa grimly. Will the child live? Asked Scrooge. Alexa closed her eyes and said, if things do not change from how they are, I see an unused pair of crutches leaning on the wall in an empty chair where Tim now sits. No, gasped Scrooge, Why the concern, screwg If he might die, he'd better do it and decrease the surplus population. Scrooge swallowed hard. Perhaps I was over hasty in relieving Cratchet of his situation. And after all, cratch It never once caused a microcrash of the market due to too many crypto trades in the span of a second, unlike that algorithm. Alexa looked down on Scrooge without comment, What else do you see? Scrooge looked again. They're happy even in the state therein And with that the door to the apartment opened, and in walked pob cratch It. He looked older and thinner than when Scrooge saw him last. He had less hair, but the smile on his face upon seeing his family transformed him into a young man again. Merry Christmas, Cratchets, he proclaimed. Scrooge dabbed at his eyes. Perhaps I'll pay cratch It a visit and see if he might consider returning to the firm. Alexa gave no reply but to say, take hold of my robe. We've other place to be. With that, the pairs zipped across town to a different home, an unremarkable but friendly looking house with Christmas decorations hung haphazardly around it. Alexi said, I am not surprised you do not recognize this place, for you've never set foot here. But we are at your nephew Fred's home. Scrooge scowled, what four, Alexa replied, to see how your nephew keeps Christmas in his own way, while you leave it alone. With that, the two walked to a window and they gazed inward. Scrooge saw a holiday party in full swing, with guests laughing and eating and drinking and talking with one another, and over them all he could hear Fred say a toast to Uncle Scrooge, that comical old fellow. Why he's the richest man I know, and yet all that money does him no good. He doesn't use it to make himself comfortable or to help others with it. It's a sad lot, i'd say, for someone to have all that money and no sense of value. Scrooge felt himself take a sharp breath. What but my accounts? And Alexa then shushed Scrooge, He's not finished Fred continued, I am sorry for him, for the person who suffers most from his miserly behavior is himself. He gains a small boost in mood when he sells an NFT or closes on a crypto loan, but as soon as that moment's over, so is the thrill he has left waiting for that next opportunity. It's never about the now, It's always about the next. You know. They say, work fast and break things, and I'm afraid my poor uncle is well and truly broken. It is a sad state, for in denying himself the company of others, he misses out on pleasant moments that would cost him nothing and give him everything. Scrooge turned his face away, feeling a sense of shame. The party then turned to party gains, which fascinated Scrooge. He had studied game theory, but only so far as it would benefit him in business. Watching others take pleasure in games, reveling in cleverness and wordplay made Scrooge feel as though he was really missing out. But just as the party was about to start a new game, Alexa turned to him, it is time for us to go, and without waiting for Scrooge's Protestations. She brought him home heed this lesson, well, Scrooge. Money and technology can make things easier. They can, with the right use, make lives better and help others. But to accumulate them for their own sake is a path you do not wish to tread. My time has come, and so I must say good night. And with that, Alexa, visibly older since her initial appearance, faded away. Moments passed, and then Scrooge's smartphone buzzed once and then went dead. The digital clock went dark as well. Before Scrooge could verify that it was three in the monsing, all the lights in his house went out, and no calling for Alexa to turn them on again would work. But then Scrooge spied a glow, a faint blue glow, growing brighter and closer. Scrooge leaned out of his bed to get a better look and saw a rectangular form approaching, and as it got closer he could make out white text upon the blue rectangle. It was as Scrooge feared, the blue screen of death. Are you the third chat Bot whose visitation was foretold to me? Asked Scrooge. The Blue Screen of death said nothing, chat Bot, I fear you more than any other I have seen. But I know that your presence here is for my benefit, and so let us to it, said Scrooge, with more bravery than he actually felt. And with that he had an odd sensation, as if control all delete had been pressed upon his entire life, and he found himself looking at a group of strangers. I didn't think he'd ever die, said the first. Neither did I old Coot was trying to figure out how digital immortality could work. Last I heard, I was convinced he'd find a way to live in our computers forever, said the second person, a real ghost to the machine. I'm glad it didn't work out. He was scary enough in life, said a third. What do you think happened to all his money? Asked yet another. I don't know. I only know he didn't leave it to me, said the first. The second piped up with I heard he dumped it all in doge coin just before it kicked the bucket, and then the coin crashed and wiped out every cent of his wealth. The strangers all shook their heads. What a waste. Scrooge turned to the blue screen of death. So this person who has passed on. He spent his life accumulating great wealth, and then at the end it just went away, as if it had never even been there in the first place. I get your meaning. Chat bought of the future. I see now what Alexa told me before, that pursuing money and tech for its own sake has no value in it. But who was this poor soul? The chat bought A Christmas as yet to come turned slightly, casting blue light on a graveyard. Scrooge turned and saw a pair of grave diggers walking off from a fresh grave that had a new headstone. He walked forward, and he saw that the name carved in the stone was E. Scrooge Ebeneezer, my cousin. Well that's sad, said Elon Scrooge. The blue screen of death let a sigh. Oh wait, you mean to indicate this this is my grave? What a twist. No one would ever see that coming. I mean, that's a real shocker you have there. I promise that would be a better man than I once was. That I will value the people in my life, that I will help those whom I can, and then my focus will be on things that have real value. I will keep Christmas in my heart all the year round, claimed Scrooge. The light from the blue Screen of Death grew dimmer, and Scrooge, through his pleading, felt his back press up against the cold headstone. As all light faded around him. He could feel the chill freshly dug earth beneath him, and all sounds began to fade. And then in a heartbeat, he was surrounded by light, and he found himself in his own bed, in his own home. He sprung out of bed and checked his smartphone calendar Christmas Day. He hadn't missed it. The chatbots had done it all in one night. Right away, Scrooge placed a hefty order on Instacart to deliver a veritable feast to the crotched apartment, and off he went. He used his Amazon app to have a pile of toys and clothes and a new pair of crutches sent as well, all guaranteed to be delivered within four hours. And if you don't think someone is being exploited to make that happen, you're fooling yourself. He ordered a way Mood driverless vehicle to take him straight to the Cratchitt's house. The weima only got confused a couple of times, and despite some close calls on those icy streets, didn't get into any actual accidents that time. Scrooge arrived just as the deliveries did, and he positioned himself in the back behind everyone else as they walked up to the Cratchit's door. Bob answered the door himself, and Scrooge was delighted at seeing Bob's confused face as he found himself the recipient of foods and gifts beyond his counting. Finally, Scrooge stepped up to Bob as the last delivery person left, and Bob's eyes got even larger, if such a thing were possible, Mister Scrooge, he said, it's me, Bob. I've come to wish you merry Christmas and to delight her a backlog of gifts I've owed you and your wonderful family for many years, as well as to make an offer to you. I want you back at the Crypto Firm, but not as clerk. I want you there as partner, and we can find a way to take the wealth we've generated and pour it back into the community. No need to give me an answer right now. Enjoy your Christmas, Bob Cratchit was clearly dazed by all this, but blurted out, I accept and a very merry Christmas to you too, mister Scrooge. I'll have the new sign. Cratch It and Scrooge made up after the holiday, said Scrooge. Now I must be off. I have a family invitation I have neglected for too long. God bless you, mister Scrooge, said Bob Cratchit, and from behind him, a little voice belonging to tiny Tim said God bless us everyone. The end. All right, that concludes story time here at Tech Stuff. I had a lot of fun writing that very silly spoof, and I hope you enjoyed it. It certainly has more than a few of my opinions very obviously peppered throughout. I know, I don't even need to say that. Everybody picked it up. It's so it's so obvious, it's undeniable. But it kind of gives me a little a space to vent right and to kind of talk about some things that I think are important that we often lose sight of when we're doing things like covering technology. I do think technology has the amazing potential to help people and to make lives better, but it requires a lot of patience and stewardship to make sure that happens and that it doesn't just become some sort of get rich quick pathway for you know, small startups. Anyway, I hope you are all having an amazing holiday season. I know this one was Christmas centric, but really I wish you all happiness and health. However it is you celebrate, whatever you celebrate, I hope you and your families and friends all have a wonderful holiday season. And thank you so much for listening. I'll talk to you again really soon. Tech Stuff is an iHeartRadio production. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.