[ WP ] Humans and machines have gone to war . The machines think they 're winning , as they can decode every encryption known to man , but little do they know of the humans ' actual method for communication ... sarcasm .

`` Unit 153! Report!'' 
 
 A rusty junkyard of appliances swiveled in unison. A clanking android, mostly cobbled together from old mannequins and Mardi Gras costumes, stumbled out of line to deliver the latest intel on the battlefront. 
 
 `` Yes, General,'' 153 started, `` we've intercepted a transmission from the human bases. It's a video call between their commander-in-chief and the captain of their elite guard.'' 
 
 `` Interesting!'' rumbled the Supreme Robotic Leader, an answering machine inside an oil drum. `` Their desperation must be high to use such rudimentary methods. Kam-Ra! Project their message immediately.'' 
 
 A smartphone wheeled itself in on an IMAX camera dolly. `` Certainly, Supreme one!'' Kam-Ra blinked its LED twice in salute, then projected the video onto the wall in the robot's den that had the least peeled paint. 
 
 The human commander's face appeared on screen, with a tiny soldier's face enclosed in a box in the corner. 
 
 >'' Sergeant, what's the latest from the front lines?'' 
 
 >'' It's *terrible*!'' said the soldier. `` Nobody *ever* learned how to operate machinery built before 2010! The tech is *so out-of-date*!'' 
 
 >'' What? But that was only eight years ago.'' 
 
 >'' Tsk!'' the soldier said, rolling his eyes, `` *I KNOW! * We have anti-ICBM lasers and bunkers with six-inch armor plating, but we just *can't* figure out how to program a VCR!'' 
 
 A camo-painted VCR in the robot audience rewound its tape eagerly. 
 
 >'' Sergeant! You mean to say that our millennial armed forces ca n't be bothered to learn how to... oh I do n't know... change a record?'' 
 
 >'' Oh *gawd* no!'' the sergeant continued. `` Our only chance was the hipsters, and they died before everyone else. We soldiers might prick our fingers and bleed to death on the needle! Why, Private Johnson fainted at the sight of their Betamax.'' 
 
 >'' MY GOD.'' The commander's brow furrowed. `` We should *definitely* stay in our bunkers and await their final assault. The machines might regress to even more ancient forms of technology! We could n't *possibly* beat... **inclined planes. **'' 
 
 >'' Sir!'' The sergeant's face contorted in a strange smile, as if he were holding back something. `` *NOT THE INCLINED PLANES! *'' 
 
 The message cut out abruptly. 
 
 The Supreme Robotic Leader looped `` Ha!'' several times on its tape, then issued orders. `` We have the humans on the run! We need to regress back further! Back! Back in time! Make yourselves the scourges of the 5th century!'' 
 
 There was confusion as the machines scrambled to replace their guns and explosives with the oldest technology they could find. Pulleys flew off the storeroom walls. Levers replaced carbine rifles. The robots fought over the doorstops. 
 
 `` Soon,'' the Supreme Robotic Leader intoned, `` the humans will be... OBSOLETE!'' Once again, it looped `` Ha!'' several times into the night.
