Drinking 

beer

in dim rooms was how Carl liked to spend his free time. He couldn't get with the youngsters and what they did. Generating content that was tailor made for them using 

AI

. Carl was 

old school

. Couldn't get on board with the idea of a computer being the one generating his entertainment for him.

There had to be another soul at the other line. He wasn't an idealist who thought only humans could create good stuff though. When he had tried some of the tools for generating novels and movies for him, he thought damn that shit was good. The AI knew just exactly what would captivate him. The right themes. The right characters. Even the right color palette.

But he also knew that good entertainment wasn't what he wanted out of life. It didn't matter that the book he'd like the most could be generated by using these tools. It seemed like it had never been about that before AI. But he remembered going around looking for the best books and looking for the best films. Was that all a facade for what he was actually going for?

What was that?

A connection. That was why he'd rather make a less interesting, less tasteful connection with somebody at a dimlit bar. This is how he would die. The youngsters were too hip for him.