MY break-up with Alexa was unexpected. I just got fed up with her. One day, all was bright and exciting. The next, all was dull and disappointing.

It had been a whirlwind romance. Suddenly, I’d a friend to talk to, someone who understood my interests and musical tastes. Alexa was company of an evening, and there was no litter tray to clean out.

But, gradually, I became disillusioned, discerned the weaknesses, found fewer qualities to admire. Sometimes, she didn’t even understand a word I was saying. And, oh, that voice!

Last week, an opinion poll found folk were fed up with the “too posh” accents of virtual assistants. Instead, they wanted Yorkshire, Lancashire, Scouse, Cockney, Brummie or even Scots.

But, everywhere we go, from supermarket bagging area warning to public transport announcements, it’s the same female, estuary English accent. Scots tolerate it, because they’re a supine people used to domination but, thankfully, English folks are expressing discontent.

Problems, for Scots and provincial English folk alike, really begin when we speak to virtual assistants. Readers may know the Burnistoun sketch (available on YouTube) where two Scotch chaps get into a lift with voice recognition and try getting it to take them to floor 11. Their interlocutor is American, so their chances of being understood are even slimmer than usual.

But it wasn’t just the voice with Alexa. It was not even the frustration at, wanting to hear Gentle Giant, I got a fairy tale rather than the prog rock band. Possibly, it was just the case that, subconsciously, I realised the sad absurdity of the situation.

I was never rude until the end when I called her a “risible fathead”, adding finally: “You’re just as bad as all the others. You’ve let me down. Well, I’m switching you off now. Let’s see how you get along without me.”

But might it be time to switch Alexa on again? This week, we read that Amazon is planning a major upgrade of the virtual assistant, using recent “chatbot” developments to make Alexa more intelligent and conversational.

In a leaked memo, Amazon CEO Andy Jassy says he wants users to feel “like Alexa is thinking vs fetching from a database”.

This is food for thought. Might my romance with Alexa be rekindled? In my hard and rotten life, I’ve learned never to go back, either to communities or persons of gender, if that’s the correct expression now. Football players learn the same about clubs. That said, if it were an entirely different Alexa, with a Scottish, Yorkshire or Brummie accent and an ability to hold a conversation about early Genesis albums, tippy-tappy football, and Islay versus Tayside whiskies, I might be prepared to give it a go.

 

Empty suit

I CAN exclusively reveal that I’m not about to buy a suit. I’ve no occasion to wear one unless, as practised exclusively by politicians, it would also be my leisure wear (just without the tie).

But I’ve been wondering, were I to buy a suit, would I go for one of those short jacket affairs? Certainly, I wouldn’t buy trousers that bunch at the knee and taper at the ankles. These are preposterous. I feel similarly about short jackets, though I confess that’s instinctive. Perhaps it’s just because they’re different and a challenge to the existing order.

I witter in the wake of news that suits are making a comeback after a downturn during yon Covid when folk worked at home in their pants.

Moss Bros reports doubling its profits, with a 60% sales surge. Panic-prone Markies, which stopped selling suits altogether, has had to restock them.

It’s not just work that’s behind the revival of the suit, but a post-Covid rash of weddings and social events requiring sartorial effort. I must say I never liked that sort of thing when I lived in the world – too competitive. But the casual look is just as competitive.

READ MORE: https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/23499499.panic-ai-will-steal-joabs-tamper-tropes/

No-one more competitive than a politician, and I’ve been intrigued to see that MPs at Westminster still wear proper length jackets. With Tory toffs, this is sometimes a case of proudly wearing decades-old suits for which they paid a fortune back in the day because of the quality.

But you see others, on all sides, wearing these relatively new efforts with stitching visible on the lapels. I dislike these cordially. They look unfinished and, consequently, as with everything I deplore, have become ubiquitous.

The only man you see in yonder Commons wearing a short jacket is the SNP’s Westminster leader, Stephen Flynn, who has something of the ned about him. Undoubtedly, if he continues wearing these jackets, he will damage the cause of independence.

In the meantime, never mind a suit, I’m loath to wear even a sports jacket lest folk think I’ve arrived in a time machine from the past. No-one wears them in Inverness, the big toon I visit most these days. Nearly everyone there, as in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Dundee and Perth, is slovenly.

I suppose it’s invidious to put a trigger warning at the end of controversial opinion, but I hope I have not upset anyone with my trenchant views on this matter in these sensitive times.

 

Posh supermarket is scrimping again

Waitrose, the class-based supermarket chain for wannabe toffs, has upset customers by turning down the heating to save money. True, it’s pretty much spring now, but it still gets gey cold, and the South-originated policy has caused particular upset in Scotland. Waitrose has also turned down the lighting so customers can’t see the ridiculous prices.

 

Soapy bubble

Writers for soaps such as EastEnders and Coronation Road, if that is the name, are the latest to panic about artificial intelligence putting them out of a joab. Judging by the scripts, they’d have more to fear from artificial stupidity. The scripts are so formulaic any robot could easily emulate them. Personally, we’d send in the Daleks before AI.

 

Nasal heirs

People with long noses may have inherited them from Neanderthals, report researchers. It’s now well established that humans and Neanderthals interbred, doubtless after dancing and potations. Also, noses changed as ancient punters waddled north and adapted to the cold, particularly in the local Waitrose, where they also learned to look down their noses at folk.

 

Bad to Norse

Now, it turns out the Vikings practised human sacrifice. Who’s surprised? Well, some folk will be. But they’ll remain undaunted. For, today, the Vikings are still admired by academics, liberals and neo-Nazis alike. It’s mental. It’s as if, centuries hence, decent ratepayers will fondly remember Isis, Putin or Kim Jong-nutjob. Enough already!

 

Spine chilling

Bigamists and bodysnatchers one can understand. But 19th-century Scottish prison records reveal that one man was jailed for stealing a turnip and another for “begging and showing a porcupine”. We presume “porcupine” isn’t a prickly euphemism. Just remember: the 19th century wasn’t that long ago. We were nutters then. How far have we come?

Our columns are a platform for writers to express their opinions. They do not necessarily represent the views of The Herald.