Lock the Bathroom Door: The Monetized AI Slop Endgame Is Near

As a science fiction writer, I learned early on how to be comfortable being dead wrong about the future. I grew up in a time when books featured Evil Corporations™️that were trying to steal your data, spy on you, and influence your decision-making through well-placed propaganda. That's still kinda true here in 2025, but now a new terrifying endgame has emerged, and I'll be truthful with you, Mom... I never saw it coming.

This apocryphal epiphany came to me last week while I was attending a talk on AI on the ice planet Hoth. The discussion was mostly about how AI helps software developers in their work, and it did a great job of comparing the BS promises AI companies make with the real-world, observable outcomes. Then, during the Q&A, someone asked about social media, and the presenter went into a short sidebar about Instantly Generated AI Video Slop™️. As soon as he put the idea out there, my stomach dropped, and I had the Gen X urge to cut the hardline at the mainframe.

As it turns out, we've been focused on the wrong enemy. The AI Apocalypse™️isn't about the kind of realism that fools your parents into voting for Republicans; it's about speed. We're about to cross the line where anyone, or more accurately, anything, can churn out endless video content instantly, or at least fast enough that the distinction doesn't matter. And if that doesn't terrify you to your gooey center, then you're not paying enough attention. Let's say it loud for the readers in the back: instantly generated AI video slop is the final missing piece in the grand social media plot to occupy every second of your attention.

Once upon a time, the tech world whispered that our data was the most valuable thing we had. Then Instagram and TikTok came along and politely corrected us: our attention is the real prize. If they have that, if they can build a reliable tunnel straight into our idle moments, then they can sell ad space inside it the way billboards sell Big Macs on the highway. And AI-driven infinite video is the endgame of that philosophy.

It Wasn't Always Like This

I won't bore you with a full history of social media; we all had MySpace, we all survived the dancing baby era, and some of us still miss updating our profiles with song lyrics on Bulletin Board Systems. What mattered back in the Long, Long Ago was simple: you uploaded a video, and someone, somewhere, might randomly see it. Early video sharing felt like a chaotic talent show run by well-meaning disruptors who genuinely believed in "a new creative space"... right up until they sold to a tech bro who promptly monetized and sanitized the soul out of it.

Then TikTok arrived, followed by Instagram's identity crisis, and suddenly everything was about the almighty algorithm. The platforms didn't want to just show you videos; they wanted to predict which videos you'd want to see. They measured what you watched, how long you lingered, what grabbed your little lizard brain's attention, and then force-fed you more of that because that kept the ads flowing.

That's where we are today: IG poking through your watch history like the NSA, whispering, "Ah yes... more of that please," as the recommendation engine spins itself in a predictive fever dream.

But what happens when the human content creation factory can't keep up anymore? And what if Instagram no longer wants to share that juicy, juicy ad revenue with those creators? They're already thinking about it, already considering a future when all content is AI-generated. And if they could generate those videos on demand, instantly, today... they would.

No more humans. No more inspiration. Just an algorithm feeding prompts into another algorithm, spitting out a never-ending loop crafted from your basest desires... and you know which ones I'm talking about. Pervert.

And that's when the machines stop just recommending content and start becoming the content.

A Horrible Future

Imagine a typical night in 2027. You’ve been in the bathroom for 53 minutes, long enough for your family to assume you’ve moved in permanently, but you can’t stop scrolling. Every video is a perfect algorithmic cocktail: scantily clad women, a crescendo from Jesus Christ Superstar, and a grainy copy of Weekend at Bernie’s 2 inexplicably dubbed in Korean. It shouldn’t work. But it does. It works so incredibly well.

The ads slip in every few videos, but you barely register them anymore. Your brain is adjusting to the stream, smoothing itself into a shape more compatible with the feed’s rhythm. Skip a video? The algorithm pivots. Linger for a heartbeat longer? The machine refines itself. It gets better. It gives you more of exactly what you want, right before you know you want it.

Your legs fall asleep. The kids are banging on the door. You whisper, “Just one more,” even though you’ve never been happier, never felt more fulfilled than you do right now, sitting hunched over with your elbows on your knees. You could stop, but you know you won’t. You’re already thinking about tonight, when you can crawl into bed, dim the lights, and let the stream wash over you. Let it melt your brain. Let it carry you gently out of your own life for a while.

You become comfortably numb while Zuck gets even richer off your attention. And soon it’s not just you... it's an entire nation, maybe the whole world, glued to machine-generated video loops forever. No need for propaganda, no need for conflict. The Machine War won’t be fought on the battlefield; it’ll be fought in bathrooms, one glazed stare at a time.

A dull, placated population. Ripe for takeover.

Holy crap.

Let’s Just Admit the Internet Was a Bad Idea

At this point, it’s hard to argue that social media isn’t a wasteland. Twitter is essentially early 1940s Germany, and Threads is just people asking what your main character’s favorite enchilada order is, and everyone answering like it’s the most important craft question of the century. (There's no right answer, btw, but enchiladas verdes is definitely wrong.)

Meanwhile, the machines hum on. The stream keeps flowing.

We need to look away, literally look away, from the screens, from the algorithmic slurry funneled straight into our skulls. We need to exit the Information Superhighway, pull off at a Buc-ees, and figure out how to reconnect with friends and neighbors in the actual, three-dimensional universe. I mean, have you tried hugging someone lately? It's delightful.

(Side note: Yes, I sell all my books through the internet, so maybe this isn’t the most coherent business plan. But stay with me.)

Because while there is still funny, clever, genuinely human stuff on Instagram, TikTok, etc., take note of how fast it’s dwindling. Most of the videos you watch now are narrated by AI voices. More than a few are fully AI-generated from top to bottom. And you didn’t ask for that. It just… arrived. Quietly. Conveniently. Third adverb.

It’s happening right in front of you while you sit on the terlit.

The arrow of AI-generated video slop has already been loosed, and it’s headed straight for your brain hole. The only question left is this:

Will you be able to step aside in time?

Anyway, follow me on Instagram...