Keir Starmer Unveils Plan to Hydrate AI Super-Brains with UK’s Last Remaining Puddle

In a revolutionary move to transform the UK into a tech-obsessed utopia where nothing quite works but everything looks futuristic, Labour leader Keir Starmer has announced his ambitious plan to unleash artificial intelligence across the public sector. Residents of Culham, Oxfordshire, however, might want to check their water tanks, as their village has been designated one of the first “AI growth zones”—a term that seems to mean “siphoning every last drop of moisture for robot overlords.”

“We’re on the brink of incredible change!” Starmer declared at a press conference, standing in front of a holographic pie chart nobody asked for. “AI will drive efficiency, innovation, and maybe even tell us how to fix potholes. But first, we need to take some bold steps—like giving up on the minor inconvenience of water.”

The announcement has left environmentalists foaming at the mouth, if only because there’s still just enough water left in them to produce foam. Experts warn AI models, particularly the large language models Starmer envisions powering the public sector, have an insatiable thirst for water due to the enormous energy demands of data centers. Training a single behemoth AI model can reportedly guzzle as much water as it would take to fill an Olympic swimming pool—or as it’s now known in Culham, “a long-lost mythical lagoon.”

“Why not just ask us to wring out our kidneys and pipe the juice directly to a server farm?” asked local resident Maggie Thistle, furiously gardening with greywater salvaged from her morning tea. “First it was climate change drying out the land, then the privatized water companies leaking our reservoirs into oblivion, and now bloody Skynet wants its cut? What’s next, desalinating tears?”

Starmer dismissed such concerns, stating, “Hydration is a small price to pay for innovation. The AI sector is like a baby—messy, expensive, and constantly crying for more resources—but you can’t stop feeding it just because bottles are running low.”

Meanwhile, Silicon Valley firms have reportedly circled the UK like smug, caffeinated seagulls, thrilled by the prospect of an entire country serving as a sacrificial altar for tech supremacy. “The UK has shown us that thirst is temporary, but data is forever,” said Tony Innovatrionovitch, a tech CEO who recently trademarked “droughtware,” a waterless computing initiative that promises to do absolutely nothing for the environment.

Despite the controversy, some government officials are on board. “Imagine a world where AI could schedule NHS appointments on time!” exclaimed one junior minister who declined to elaborate on how exactly this would be achieved. “Sure, it might mean the Thames becomes a giant mudslide, but hey, progress is muddy business.”

On the ground in Culham, residents are already bracing for the worst. The town council has distributed pamphlets titled “How to Cultivate Cacti and Your Sense of Humility,” while local pubs are rationing pints with the kind of solemnity previously reserved for wartime sugar. Said landlord Geoff Plank, “We’ve already had people offering to trade their Wi-Fi routers for a glass of house water. Honestly, it’s getting biblical out here.”

As the debate rages on, the AI systems themselves remain unreachable for comment. Rumor has it they’re too busy training on the complete works of Shakespeare while steam rises ominously from overheating server racks. Or, as one Twitter wag put it, “They can answer 10,000 riddles in a second, but apparently haven’t figured out how to drink out of an Evian bottle.”

In the meantime, Starmer’s government insists that the sacrifice is worth it. “By the year 2040, every UK citizen will live in a society where AI powers everything from school curriculums to public transport,” promised Starmer. “Sure, we’ll all be sipping digital electrolytes out of USB bottles, but that’s the price of greatness.”

At press time, AI developers were reportedly designing a revolutionary new algorithm that can churn out solutions to water scarcity—just as soon as Culham lends them another lake to finish their testing.