83 posts tagged with "Irony"

Old Wang was the most unremarkable cog in the company machine. In fact, he was more like a piece of gum stuck in a corner, his presence barely noticeable. On the last workday before the Lunar New Year, while everyone else was busy snapping up holiday goods and their phones were constantly ringing, his desk was still occupied by an old desktop computer and a well-worn copy of the "Modern Chinese Dictionary."

Everyone knew that Old Wang didn't like using mobile phones. He still used an old model from ten years ago, his reasoning being, "As long as it can make calls, it's fine." But today was different. The company had suddenly issued a notice requiring all employees to attach a gold sticker to the back of their phones before coming to work tomorrow. This was to demonstrate good wishes for the New Year, and they were to uniformly scan and upload it using a new app. Apparently, this was the boss's new "good luck" ritual for the year.

After retiring, Old Li was appointed by the community as a “New Year’s Flavor Index Evaluator.” This was a trendy job, supposedly determined by a "New Year's Flavor Algorithm" developed by a well-known AI company. Every day, Old Li’s job was to walk to different families with a tablet, take a few photos, and ask a few questions.

"Did you put up Spring Festival couplets this year? How many characters?" The app on the tablet would immediately give a score.

After Lao Wang retired, his life was like a lukewarm glass of plain water. It wasn't until he received a "Spring Festival Gala Cloud Participant Certificate" on Taobao that a drop of ink was added to this plain water.

The electronic certificate had an exaggerated gold background, with the large characters "Cloud Participation" in the center. Next to it was a serious-looking logo of the "CCTV Spring Festival Gala," and below it was a string of numerical codes that Lao Wang himself didn't understand. Lao Wang knew, of course, that it was just a marketing gimmick from the merchant. But looking at the glittering gold "participant certificate" on his phone screen, he felt a strange surge of excitement, as if he had truly become a part of the Spring Festival Gala.

When Lao Li received the notice, he was munching on half a cold bun. The notice was simple, two words: "Paste couplets." He didn't pay much attention to it, after all, subway stations put up Spring Festival couplets every year before the Spring Festival, it was a routine. He put down the bun, picked up his toolbox, inside lay a brand new bucket of paste and a brush. Lao Li was a veteran employee of Shenzhen Metro, he could paste couplets with his eyes closed.

But when he arrived at the warehouse and saw the pile of snow-white paper rolls, he was stunned. What kind of Spring Festival couplets were these? These were clearly rolls of white paper! He opened one roll, it was covered in dense black Song typeface, it read like an obituary, or a tasteless instruction manual. He rubbed his eyes, confirming that he wasn't mistaken, these weren't red paper with black characters, but white paper with black characters, and they were pre-printed. He found the warehouse manager, who pushed up his glasses and said in a mechanical tone: "According to the higher-ups, this year's Spring Festival couplets will all use this."

"The atmosphere in the live stream today feels a bit off, is it just me?" Lin Fei forced a professional smile at her phone screen. She saw a few comments like "lagging" and "seems like AI" drift across the screen, and her heart tightened.

She is a mid-tier streamer under Wuyou Media. With her sweet appearance and slightly goofy live streaming style, she has accumulated a fairly stable fanbase. Recently, the company has been promoting "AI replication" technology, claiming that it can allow streamers' "clones" to broadcast 24/7, freeing up the real person's time and energy. Lin Fei was initially quite happy, feeling that she could finally get some good sleep, as the constant rotation was really exhausting.

Old Li had been working at the Shenzhen Metro for fifteen years. He couldn't remember how many spring couplets he had put up, but this year was definitely the most unusual. In previous years, they were all red with gold characters, festive and joyous. This year, however, a batch of white couplets with black characters had appeared out of nowhere, plastered all over every corner of the station, even the ticket machines were covered with a sheet saying "Have a smooth journey and arrive home safely."

"Who did this?" Old Li complained to the new intern, Xiao Zhang. Xiao Zhang pushed up his glasses and said carefully, "Uncle Li, I heard this is what was requested from above, to reflect...to reflect a new kind of cultural creativity?"

"One minute left!" a sugary female voice echoed through the office from the speakers, like a death knell. Zhang Qiang looked up at the digital clock on the wall, 12:00, precise to the second.

This was the company's newly implemented "midday relaxation" session, touted as being for the health and well-being of the employees. Every day at noon, all employees had to put aside their work and participate in a "beneficial to mind and body" activity. Today's activity was "one minute of silence."

Old Li had been working at the community supermarket for almost ten years, transforming from a naive young man into a greasy middle-aged one. He felt that the supermarket was like his life, he could see the end at a glance – plain, but something he couldn't give up.

Recently, the community started a new thing: residents would score the supermarket. It wasn’t anonymous scoring, but rather, real-name scoring via handwritten notes posted on the notice board at the entrance of the supermarket. At first, everyone found it quite novel, but later it changed its flavor.

Train conductor Li Ming sighed, looking at the empty train car. It was another G233 high-speed train with only him on board, traveling from Beijing to Shanghai. Ever since the implementation of the new seat reservation system, his daily work felt like acting to an empty room. There were very few passengers, but that was not the strangest part. The weirdest thing was that, no matter which train it was, there was always an "E seat" that was booked but never actually occupied.

Old Wang had been working at the gas station for ten years. Every morning, he put on the blue uniform that could never be completely clean, stood beside the cold gas pump, and began his mechanical day. “Hello, welcome! What kind of fuel do you need?” “Okay, fueling, please wait a moment,” “Fueling complete, please drive safely!” He had to repeat these words hundreds of times a day, like a programmed machine.

Recently, the company introduced a new “incentive system.” Each attendant wore a small loudspeaker on their chest, which would automatically play a pre-recorded pep talk whenever a customer drove into the station: "Add oil! Let's be full of energy today!", "Add oil! Life is like a gas tank, full of power!", "Add oil! Speed up for your dreams!"