AI is our Doom. Each time we use Chat GPT we come one second, one minute, one hour closer to the End of Days. And as always, perhaps we deserve it. But what about the unborn generations who will never experience a blade of grass caressing their face while they are lying on the ground soaking the Sun’s gentle warmth. Who won’t ever feel the touch of a pail of air or the howling freezing rain coming down their cheeks. Do we have the right to condemn them all to unborn oblivion?