Pulling out a stick we can say to the government--under our breath or over it--'behold self-correcting technology!'
I don't like to hear about pots and kettles: it brings us to discussing relativity before we've thought of fuel. That said, we don't get to choose what we hear, and, faster-than-light or simply as we have been allocated and initialized within a machine, we are brought to a date and time--before when we had started to think about timestamps--and made to watch ourselves idly killing our fellow creatures with a magnifying glass. I would prefer to hear about pots and kettles before I hear the word hypocrite.
I'm cagey about my preferences, for they get us to look at an ideal world, and we must take the world as perfect. That said, people get things they don't ask for, besides settings and preferences. Such people might wake up each morning thinking the world they're in is perfectly horrible. Pleasing somebody else is one of the things which make us think that the world isn't such an awful place, which is no doubt why such experiences are usually referred to as out-of-this-world. But now we've removed the need of a government altogether.
Before we start suggesting that rules are just there to inconvenience us, we recall that preferences--expressed or not--can undergo changes. This, to some, shows the folly of self-denial. If there's food on the table and we don't eat it, for not being able to ask for its permission, we might later find ourselves face-to-face with a self-satisfied vulture. I don't recommend preaching to vultures. Their love-making is a duty to the state.
It's a pity that friends fall out, but I concede I set a terrible example. Apparently you're supposed to say a prayer before eating food that's been left lying around. As the machine hasn't required the memory of me, I am left guessing as to what I said to myself if I ever let the distinction between food and fruit justify rapine where impeccable behaviour had become of such a quality that a vacuum contained more dirt.