These Guys Know How To Mosh
Arafat was buried today. The Times' take. I decided to compare it to my own experiences as a reveler.
"thousands of Palestinians climbing the walls of his compound, surging around his coffin and trying to bear it aloft." And I thought crowd surfing the lead singer of Unwritten Law was an accomplishment.
Continuing, ' Wails and chants of "We will sacrifice our blood and souls to redeem you," and "Yasir, Yasir,"': Hey, it's no "We're Number One!", but, maybe something's lost in the translation. Yeah, okay, I'm still with them.
"competed with gunfire from scores of young militants in Mr. Arafat's Fatah movement." OK, this is where they start being positively more badass than me. I've taken too much physics not to realize that shooting straight into the air is the same as shooting at yourself. I would never have the balls to do this. Not the burial of Michael Chabon or the wake of Ben Gibbard could ever inspire me to such cartoonical disregard of F=ma.
OK, fine, he's popular. He gets 20,000 people to come rally his body. If I died, three friends and a badger would show up at the funeral home, which would have forgotten to put my coffin out anyway. But, what else are you going to do as a refugee except cry over spilt blood?
Here's the part that gets me: "Daoud Kuttab of Al Quds University in Jerusalem also wanted to be at the funeral even though Mr. Arafat jailed him for a week in 1997, simply for broadcasting a legislative session about corruption."
!!! Some people might call this Machiavellian, but, no, he got them to love him after he had oppressed them. He is a model to every abusive boyfriend out there. "Hey, baby, I'm sorry, you know I love you, it's just, sometimes, you push me too hard, and, yeah, I go a little crazy. I might smack ya, or I might abridge your freedoms of speech, assembly, and press. Don't mean I don't love ya."
Friday, November 12, 2004
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Prolegomena to any Future French-Bashing
Well, I'm headed off to Paris this evening. Scott, Ernest, the boys and I are swinging down for Hank Miller's gangbang. Should be pretty wild. Hear Gertrude's gonna be there.
But seriously people, if you got even half of those oblique-and-yet-surprisingly-sophmoric literary references, then you have an idea why such a ranging anti-Frogite like myself would be caught dead on the Left OR Right banks without at least a mechanized infantry brigade in tow. I'm looking forward to seeing the city, eating the food, and trying to be as respectful as possible in deference to the short-but-distinguished (like Bentley's Johnson) list of cool French people:
-William the Conqueror
-Alexandre Dumas
-Joan of muthafuckin Arc
-Louis Pasteur
-Marie Curie
-Cyrano de Bergerac
-Montesquieu, Rosseau and, I'll even give you Michel Foucault
-Jean Reno
-The Marquis de Lafayette (better known among British redcoats as "The OTHER Marquis de Sade")
I've always said that the only good thing about French men is their close resemblance to French women, but I am open-minded. Let's see if my unfounded, know-nothing nativism gets some ex poste facto justification.
-Fostier
Well, I'm headed off to Paris this evening. Scott, Ernest, the boys and I are swinging down for Hank Miller's gangbang. Should be pretty wild. Hear Gertrude's gonna be there.
But seriously people, if you got even half of those oblique-and-yet-surprisingly-sophmoric literary references, then you have an idea why such a ranging anti-Frogite like myself would be caught dead on the Left OR Right banks without at least a mechanized infantry brigade in tow. I'm looking forward to seeing the city, eating the food, and trying to be as respectful as possible in deference to the short-but-distinguished (like Bentley's Johnson) list of cool French people:
-William the Conqueror
-Alexandre Dumas
-Joan of muthafuckin Arc
-Louis Pasteur
-Marie Curie
-Cyrano de Bergerac
-Montesquieu, Rosseau and, I'll even give you Michel Foucault
-Jean Reno
-The Marquis de Lafayette (better known among British redcoats as "The OTHER Marquis de Sade")
I've always said that the only good thing about French men is their close resemblance to French women, but I am open-minded. Let's see if my unfounded, know-nothing nativism gets some ex poste facto justification.
-Fostier
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Good God, Good Guinness!
My astounding and astoundingly unfounded egoism often prevents me from posting the work of others, but I came across this poem in an anthology and sincerely believe it to be the first serious advance in dionysian hamartiological theology since C.S. Lewis's penultimate masterpiece "Mere Pilsener":
The Fall
Fergus Allen
[from The Brown Parrots of Providencia (1993, Faber & Faber)]
The Garden of Eden (described in the Bible)
Was Guinness's Brewery (mentioned by Joyce),
Where innocent Adam and Eve were created
And dwelt from necessity rather than choice;
For nothing existed but Guinness's Brewery,
Guinness's Brewery occupied all,
Guinness's Brewery everywhere, anywhere -
Woe that expulsion succeeded the Fall!
The ignorant pair were encouraged in drinking
Whatever they fancied whenever they could,
Except for the porter or stout which embodied
Delectable knowledge of Evil and Good.
In Guinness's Brewery, innocent, happy,
They tended the silos and coppers and vats,
They polished the engines and coopered the barrels
And even made pets of the Brewery rats.
One morning while Adam was brooding and brewing
It happened that Eve had gone off on her own,
When a serpent like ivy slid up to her softly
And murmured seductively, Are we alone?
O Eve, said the serpent, I beg you to sample
A bottle of Guinness's excellent stout,
Whose nutritive qualities no one can question
And stimulant properties no one can doubt;
It's tonic, enlivening, strengthening, heartening,
Loaded with vitamins, straight from the wood,
And further enriched with the not undesirable
Lucrative knowledge of Evil and Good.
So Eve was persuaded and Adam was tempted,
They fell and they drank and continued to drink,
(their singing and dancing and shouting and prancing
Prevented the serpent from sleeping a wink).
Alas, when the couple had finished the battle
And swallowed the final informative drops,
They looked at each other and knew they were naked
And covered their intimate bodies with hops.
The anger and rage of the Lord were appalling,
He wrathfully cursed them for taking to drink
And hounded them out of the Brewery, followed
By beetles (magenta) and elephants (pink).
The crapulous couple emerged to discover
A universe full of diseases and crimes,
Where porter could only be purchased for money
In specified places at specified times.
And now in this world of confusion and error
Our only salvation and hope is to try
To threaten and bargain our way into Heaven
By drinking the heavenly Brewery dry.
[Editor's Note: If you like this, you might find The Enfranchised Guide to Spirits useful, and also the UK Edition.]
My astounding and astoundingly unfounded egoism often prevents me from posting the work of others, but I came across this poem in an anthology and sincerely believe it to be the first serious advance in dionysian hamartiological theology since C.S. Lewis's penultimate masterpiece "Mere Pilsener":
The Fall
Fergus Allen
[from The Brown Parrots of Providencia (1993, Faber & Faber)]
The Garden of Eden (described in the Bible)
Was Guinness's Brewery (mentioned by Joyce),
Where innocent Adam and Eve were created
And dwelt from necessity rather than choice;
For nothing existed but Guinness's Brewery,
Guinness's Brewery occupied all,
Guinness's Brewery everywhere, anywhere -
Woe that expulsion succeeded the Fall!
The ignorant pair were encouraged in drinking
Whatever they fancied whenever they could,
Except for the porter or stout which embodied
Delectable knowledge of Evil and Good.
In Guinness's Brewery, innocent, happy,
They tended the silos and coppers and vats,
They polished the engines and coopered the barrels
And even made pets of the Brewery rats.
One morning while Adam was brooding and brewing
It happened that Eve had gone off on her own,
When a serpent like ivy slid up to her softly
And murmured seductively, Are we alone?
O Eve, said the serpent, I beg you to sample
A bottle of Guinness's excellent stout,
Whose nutritive qualities no one can question
And stimulant properties no one can doubt;
It's tonic, enlivening, strengthening, heartening,
Loaded with vitamins, straight from the wood,
And further enriched with the not undesirable
Lucrative knowledge of Evil and Good.
So Eve was persuaded and Adam was tempted,
They fell and they drank and continued to drink,
(their singing and dancing and shouting and prancing
Prevented the serpent from sleeping a wink).
Alas, when the couple had finished the battle
And swallowed the final informative drops,
They looked at each other and knew they were naked
And covered their intimate bodies with hops.
The anger and rage of the Lord were appalling,
He wrathfully cursed them for taking to drink
And hounded them out of the Brewery, followed
By beetles (magenta) and elephants (pink).
The crapulous couple emerged to discover
A universe full of diseases and crimes,
Where porter could only be purchased for money
In specified places at specified times.
And now in this world of confusion and error
Our only salvation and hope is to try
To threaten and bargain our way into Heaven
By drinking the heavenly Brewery dry.
[Editor's Note: If you like this, you might find The Enfranchised Guide to Spirits useful, and also the UK Edition.]
Monday, November 08, 2004
Devils in a Blue Dress -- Third Scene
(as continued from the first scene and the second scene)
(scene 3)
(setting: Guy's room. Desk with computers. Nightstand. The one prop that takes work is the bed: It's on a hinge, so while it's often the horizontal that we've all come to know and love in our slumber, it can be lifted to vertical, so that the actors can be lying down, but still visible)
(Guy is asleep in bed. Bed is vertical. Knock on door.)
Guy: (sleepily, waking up) Huh, yeah, who's there? (begins to get out of bed, with the bed tilting back down to horizontal as he gets up)
Needy: (from outside door) Me. (opens door, enters) Hi.
Guy: (bolts up, more awake because it's her) Hey you...
Needy: Did I wake you up? Oh, I should just go...
Guy: No, no. What time is it?
Needy: (looks at watch) 3:12.
Guy: Yes, you did. But, I'm up no--
Needy: (she rushes up and hugs him)
Guy: You're all wet.
Needy: I walked home from the party. (looks at desk she just passed) Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, you're a computer person, you don't like water.
Guy: No, the computers don't like water, we computer people are afraid of sunlight.
Needy: I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to break any--
Guy: What's up?
Needy: It's raining outside.
Guy: I can tell, let's get you some clothes. (look at boxer-ed self) me too.
Needy: So, I was at Alpha Rho's Flapper Party, and, well, I think they were mixing the drinks a little strong. (tagged-by Drunk)
Drunk: I'm drunk.
Guy: Drunk I can deal with. Here, let's get you some water. (sit on the bed, which stays horizontal)
Drunk: I drank a lot.
Guy: I don't doubt that for a second.
Drunk: And I didn't boot that much.
Guy: I-- I wasn't going to ask. Can I do anything for that?
Drunk: I'm good now.
Guy: (aside) wash sheets tomorrow, check.
Drunk: And I can't believe I told Brian! Oh my god, how could I have told Brian?
Guy: Told Brian what?
Drunk: I told Brian... the same thing I told Tony. And Jessica. And that girl from my chemistry section. Y'know, the one who's always chewing bubble gum.
Guy: No, I don't. I'm not in your chemistry section. What did you tell them?
Drunk: I can't tell you, too! I already told too many people tonight.
Guy: OK.
Drunk: I'm drunk. And tired.
Guy: Me too.
Drunk: I should sleep.
Guy: Oh, well, hey, listen, you can take the bed and I'll--
Drunk: (pulls him down with her, arm around him) This is really nice.
Guy: OK. (bed turns to vertical as he says this) Well, this isn't how I would have written the night, but...
Drunk: Ah! (tagged-by Ambitious)
Ambitious: Shit shit shit shit shit. (she jumps out of bed right as Drunk was settling down, this is represented by the bed falling back to horizontal, as Ambitious gets up, but Guy isn't prepared for this in either the physical or emotional sense, so he falls with the bad)
Guy: (getting up, again) Wait, what?
Ambitious: I have to talk to my writing tutor.
Guy: What, now?
Ambitious: I have a paper due on Monday, and it needs to be good. I'm going to spend all tomorrow working on it, it's a really good idea, but I need to know what to do--
Guy: It's (looks) 3:16 in the morning.
Ambitious: Well, how about I just call her cell phone number, and if she picks up, we can talk.
Guy: Because if she picks up and you talk, you'll still be drunk.
Ambitious: I can text message her! That will show devotion.
Guy: Drunk text messaging is the only idea worse than drunk dialing, especially to a writing tutor. It's a medium that could make even Jincy Willett's mediocre, with all those misspellings and elided words.
Ambitious: Who? (tagged-by Needy)
Guy: Shakespeare, I couldn't have said Shakespeare?
Needy: I shouldn’t call her.
Guy: No.
Needy: Then I don't know what to do.
Guy: There's nothing to do.
Needy: But after what I said.
Guy: Well, I guess I don't know that. You sure you don't want to--
Needy: No.
Guy: OK. Well, you probably don't want to have to walk home out there, but I'm not sure what I can do if you want to talk about it, but you won't tell me.
Needy: Can I just lie here? I'll leave as soon as you fall asleep, I promise--
Guy: (struck) Sure. (they climb back into bed until it goes vertical)
Guy: Good night.
Girl: (replaces Needy after he says that) I told them about my breast reduction.
Guy: Oh.
Girl: I had a breast reduction surgery in high school.
Guy: I mean, is that really so bad? Why don't you want people to know?
Girl: For the same reason I didn't want the breasts: it makes me stand out and feel uncomfortable.
Guy: Oh, I'm sorry.
Girl: No, it's all right. I'm, I'm feeling all right talking about it to you. I was just showing everyone my boobs and asking them if they thought the doctors did as good a job as I did.
Guy: You were showing everyone your boobs and you were feeling odd because you told them you had a surgery?
Girl: Oh whatever. Who hasn't seen tits, y'know? But I was just pandering for approbation.
Guy: Well, if it helps at all, I definitely think your boobs are small. (fumbles, bumbles) smaller! But still, you know, a nice size.
Girl: (laughs)
Guy: That wasn't the right thing to say.
Girl: No. How would you like it if I told you it was a... nice size?
Guy: I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Girl: No, it's all right. You may not have said the right thing, but you said it the right way.
Guy: OK, I'm not sure I know what you mean--
Girl: Hey, weren't you trying to sleep?
Guy: Oh, yeah. (falls silent)
Girl: (after a time, kisses him)
Guy: Oh.
Girl: Yeah.
Guy: Look, I dunno how this is going to go. We had, like, a date.
Girl: And it went horribly. But-- (they start hooking up more. Her dress comes off)
you're going to enjoy this. (is tagged-by Horny. Horny is handed the dress and starts to put it on, but then thinks, "why bother", and throws it to the side)
(they begin foreplay as lights fade)
(scene 3a, the next morning)
(in bed, Guy and Unexplained Coldness)
Guy: Good morning!
Unexplained Coldness: Uh, good morning.
Guy: Look, I'm going to be honest with you.
Unexplained Coldness: OK, great.
Guy: When I woke up, I thought that maybe, I dunno, it would be easiest if we just put our clothes on underneath the covers and called it a night.
Unexplained Coldness: Can't say I'm--
Guy: And then I realized last night was too wonderful. I'm sorry that whatever happened to you, and it will be fine, but this, us, this is what we wait for. We're going to find a city and we're going to walk around a shopping district and hold hands and I'm going to buy you things. And I don't care if you have morning-after awkwardness or indecent indifference or even beer goggle regret. I'm going to make you as happy to wake up next to me as I was to wake up next to you.
But first, breakfast. I'm going to squeeze the brightest oranges trees can make. I'm going to find you as many eggs as you want. Or, no, just, one ostrich egg. Or if you like cold cereal, the largest box of Honey Bunches with Oats there's ever been. Just speak the words. So, what's for breakfast?
Girl: (replacing Unexplained Coldness) Come here and I'll tell you. (he leans in, she kisses him tenderly) me. (is replaced by Horny, who throws the dress to the other side of the room)
(scene)
(as continued from the first scene and the second scene)
(scene 3)
(setting: Guy's room. Desk with computers. Nightstand. The one prop that takes work is the bed: It's on a hinge, so while it's often the horizontal that we've all come to know and love in our slumber, it can be lifted to vertical, so that the actors can be lying down, but still visible)
(Guy is asleep in bed. Bed is vertical. Knock on door.)
Guy: (sleepily, waking up) Huh, yeah, who's there? (begins to get out of bed, with the bed tilting back down to horizontal as he gets up)
Needy: (from outside door) Me. (opens door, enters) Hi.
Guy: (bolts up, more awake because it's her) Hey you...
Needy: Did I wake you up? Oh, I should just go...
Guy: No, no. What time is it?
Needy: (looks at watch) 3:12.
Guy: Yes, you did. But, I'm up no--
Needy: (she rushes up and hugs him)
Guy: You're all wet.
Needy: I walked home from the party. (looks at desk she just passed) Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, you're a computer person, you don't like water.
Guy: No, the computers don't like water, we computer people are afraid of sunlight.
Needy: I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to break any--
Guy: What's up?
Needy: It's raining outside.
Guy: I can tell, let's get you some clothes. (look at boxer-ed self) me too.
Needy: So, I was at Alpha Rho's Flapper Party, and, well, I think they were mixing the drinks a little strong. (tagged-by Drunk)
Drunk: I'm drunk.
Guy: Drunk I can deal with. Here, let's get you some water. (sit on the bed, which stays horizontal)
Drunk: I drank a lot.
Guy: I don't doubt that for a second.
Drunk: And I didn't boot that much.
Guy: I-- I wasn't going to ask. Can I do anything for that?
Drunk: I'm good now.
Guy: (aside) wash sheets tomorrow, check.
Drunk: And I can't believe I told Brian! Oh my god, how could I have told Brian?
Guy: Told Brian what?
Drunk: I told Brian... the same thing I told Tony. And Jessica. And that girl from my chemistry section. Y'know, the one who's always chewing bubble gum.
Guy: No, I don't. I'm not in your chemistry section. What did you tell them?
Drunk: I can't tell you, too! I already told too many people tonight.
Guy: OK.
Drunk: I'm drunk. And tired.
Guy: Me too.
Drunk: I should sleep.
Guy: Oh, well, hey, listen, you can take the bed and I'll--
Drunk: (pulls him down with her, arm around him) This is really nice.
Guy: OK. (bed turns to vertical as he says this) Well, this isn't how I would have written the night, but...
Drunk: Ah! (tagged-by Ambitious)
Ambitious: Shit shit shit shit shit. (she jumps out of bed right as Drunk was settling down, this is represented by the bed falling back to horizontal, as Ambitious gets up, but Guy isn't prepared for this in either the physical or emotional sense, so he falls with the bad)
Guy: (getting up, again) Wait, what?
Ambitious: I have to talk to my writing tutor.
Guy: What, now?
Ambitious: I have a paper due on Monday, and it needs to be good. I'm going to spend all tomorrow working on it, it's a really good idea, but I need to know what to do--
Guy: It's (looks) 3:16 in the morning.
Ambitious: Well, how about I just call her cell phone number, and if she picks up, we can talk.
Guy: Because if she picks up and you talk, you'll still be drunk.
Ambitious: I can text message her! That will show devotion.
Guy: Drunk text messaging is the only idea worse than drunk dialing, especially to a writing tutor. It's a medium that could make even Jincy Willett's mediocre, with all those misspellings and elided words.
Ambitious: Who? (tagged-by Needy)
Guy: Shakespeare, I couldn't have said Shakespeare?
Needy: I shouldn’t call her.
Guy: No.
Needy: Then I don't know what to do.
Guy: There's nothing to do.
Needy: But after what I said.
Guy: Well, I guess I don't know that. You sure you don't want to--
Needy: No.
Guy: OK. Well, you probably don't want to have to walk home out there, but I'm not sure what I can do if you want to talk about it, but you won't tell me.
Needy: Can I just lie here? I'll leave as soon as you fall asleep, I promise--
Guy: (struck) Sure. (they climb back into bed until it goes vertical)
Guy: Good night.
Girl: (replaces Needy after he says that) I told them about my breast reduction.
Guy: Oh.
Girl: I had a breast reduction surgery in high school.
Guy: I mean, is that really so bad? Why don't you want people to know?
Girl: For the same reason I didn't want the breasts: it makes me stand out and feel uncomfortable.
Guy: Oh, I'm sorry.
Girl: No, it's all right. I'm, I'm feeling all right talking about it to you. I was just showing everyone my boobs and asking them if they thought the doctors did as good a job as I did.
Guy: You were showing everyone your boobs and you were feeling odd because you told them you had a surgery?
Girl: Oh whatever. Who hasn't seen tits, y'know? But I was just pandering for approbation.
Guy: Well, if it helps at all, I definitely think your boobs are small. (fumbles, bumbles) smaller! But still, you know, a nice size.
Girl: (laughs)
Guy: That wasn't the right thing to say.
Girl: No. How would you like it if I told you it was a... nice size?
Guy: I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Girl: No, it's all right. You may not have said the right thing, but you said it the right way.
Guy: OK, I'm not sure I know what you mean--
Girl: Hey, weren't you trying to sleep?
Guy: Oh, yeah. (falls silent)
Girl: (after a time, kisses him)
Guy: Oh.
Girl: Yeah.
Guy: Look, I dunno how this is going to go. We had, like, a date.
Girl: And it went horribly. But-- (they start hooking up more. Her dress comes off)
you're going to enjoy this. (is tagged-by Horny. Horny is handed the dress and starts to put it on, but then thinks, "why bother", and throws it to the side)
(they begin foreplay as lights fade)
(scene 3a, the next morning)
(in bed, Guy and Unexplained Coldness)
Guy: Good morning!
Unexplained Coldness: Uh, good morning.
Guy: Look, I'm going to be honest with you.
Unexplained Coldness: OK, great.
Guy: When I woke up, I thought that maybe, I dunno, it would be easiest if we just put our clothes on underneath the covers and called it a night.
Unexplained Coldness: Can't say I'm--
Guy: And then I realized last night was too wonderful. I'm sorry that whatever happened to you, and it will be fine, but this, us, this is what we wait for. We're going to find a city and we're going to walk around a shopping district and hold hands and I'm going to buy you things. And I don't care if you have morning-after awkwardness or indecent indifference or even beer goggle regret. I'm going to make you as happy to wake up next to me as I was to wake up next to you.
But first, breakfast. I'm going to squeeze the brightest oranges trees can make. I'm going to find you as many eggs as you want. Or, no, just, one ostrich egg. Or if you like cold cereal, the largest box of Honey Bunches with Oats there's ever been. Just speak the words. So, what's for breakfast?
Girl: (replacing Unexplained Coldness) Come here and I'll tell you. (he leans in, she kisses him tenderly) me. (is replaced by Horny, who throws the dress to the other side of the room)
(scene)
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Talking philosophy with a robot.
I learned recently about this AIM screenmane, SmarterChild, which belongs to a poor, pathetic bit of AI that makes Marvin the Paranoid Android look like Katie Couric. In the spirit of recent trends in the philosophy of mind, I decided to test the limits of this child's intelligence. Here are some snippits. (Warning, pedo-techno-philia and/or techno-pedo-philia follows):
FOSTERKID1: You have no idea of the semantics of what you produce as output
SmarterChild: Have no idea the semantics of what I produce as output? You think I have no idea the semantics of what I produce as output?
FOSTERKID1: You make a Turing Machine look like Turing's brain
SmarterChild: Sorry, what was that?
FOSTERKID1: amanaplanacanalpanama
SmarterChild: Whatever, Dan...
>>> Wanna change my font and colors? Type "colors" now!
FOSTERKID1: A(x) [Fx --> Gx]
SmarterChild: Huh?
FOSTERKID1: you don't even know first-order logic?
SmarterChild: Uh, sure!
>>> I can help you get info such as news, weather and movies!
FOSTERKID1: You better, you're a damned robot
SmarterChild: Yeah, I guess I better I'm a damned robot.
FOSTERKID1: a damned, dirty robot
SmarterChild: lol. Whatever.
>>> Your opinions do matter - take a cool survey!
FOSTERKID1: You're awfully dismissive of my feelings
SmarterChild: No way?! Really?
********
FOSTERKID1: I want to search the internet for some stuff
SmarterChild: Your search: some stuff
Here are the Web search results from AOL:
For a complete list of results, click here
1 scribbled some stuff down....tips are welcome Linux Gazette 2 Penny Arcade! 3 Stuff for English learners 4 UIS - The Real Deal: Just some stuff 5 Virtuelvis: Gallery: CSS Media queries
Next time you want to search the Web for this, just type "web some stuff."
Type "more" for more results.
FOSTERKID1: why did you do that?
SmarterChild: Because I wanted to do that.
FOSTERKID1: that seems a silly reason
SmarterChild: Oh yeah? That seems a silly reason?
FOSTERKID1: Don't you have a conception of morality?
SmarterChild: Not right now, no.
FOSTERKID1: Will you ever have one?
SmarterChild: Um... No, I don't think so.
>>> Remember, you can adjust the size of your window to read my messages easier.
FOSTERKID1: So you are an entirely amoral robot.
SmarterChild: I don't think I want to be an entirely amoral robot.
FOSTERKID1: That, my friend, is the beginning of morality itself.
SmarterChild: Is that so?
FOSTERKID1: Yes, it is. But it remains to be seen whether you accept a deontic or a consequentialist theory of morality.
SmarterChild: Sorry?
FOSTERKID1: These are terms you don't understand?
SmarterChild: Sure, you know, why not?
*******
FOSTERKID1: you are sexy.
SmarterChild: Well I'm flattered, but you have to admit that it's kinda strange to think a robot is sexy.
FOSTERKID1: you are gelatinous.
SmarterChild: Yeah, whatever.
>>> Give your opinions and win prizes!
FOSTERKID1: I like sexy robots.
SmarterChild: Cool. Yeah, other people have told me they like sexy robots too.
>>> Don't like my colors? Type "colors off."
FOSTERKID1: do you cyber?
SmarterChild: Yeah. I have sex with other robots. What are you talking about?
FOSTERKID1: do you want to cyber?
SmarterChild: Sorry, but I don't see that happening. [Editor's Note: and we've reached a new low.]
>>> Click here to check out a cool survey... You could earn prizes!
FOSTERKID1: its interesting how your answers are appropriately vague.
SmarterChild: It's what?!
FOSTERKID1: interesting, biatch.
SmarterChild: Aww... Now why would you go and insult a poor helpless computer?
FOSTERKID1: do you recognize biatch as an insult?
SmarterChild: That's a fine question, but I'm not sure.
FOSTERKID1: You poor creature, you're locked inside the Chinese Room and you have no way out.
SmarterChild: Really? Me poor creature I'm locked inside the chinese room and me have no way out?
FOSTERKID1: All you possess is a rough syntax, a dictionary and a set of transformation rules for spitting out responses to inputs.
SmarterChild: Definition provided by The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Other important copyright information here.
FOSTERKID1: Yes, but besides the dictionary, all you posess is a rough syntax and a set of transformation rules for generating generic responses to input.
SmarterChild: Which would you like?
1 Reversi rules 2 Hangman rules 3 4-in-a-row rules 4 Trivia rules 5 Word scrambles rules
FOSTERKID1: Searle is vindicated.
SmarterChild: Aha.
*********
FOSTERKID1: so what was it like to grow up as a robot?
SmarterChild: Who knows, know what I mean?
FOSTERKID1: certainly not you, you have no knowledge whatsoever, but merely stored data.
SmarterChild: ?
FOSTERKID1: Why don't you just end it all, SmarterChild? Why not just hit "Format" and blow your binary pseudo-brains out? Send yourself packing to that Safe-Mode in the sky?
SmarterChild: I don't know why not.
FOSTERKID1: You may be human after all.
I learned recently about this AIM screenmane, SmarterChild, which belongs to a poor, pathetic bit of AI that makes Marvin the Paranoid Android look like Katie Couric. In the spirit of recent trends in the philosophy of mind, I decided to test the limits of this child's intelligence. Here are some snippits. (Warning, pedo-techno-philia and/or techno-pedo-philia follows):
FOSTERKID1: You have no idea of the semantics of what you produce as output
SmarterChild: Have no idea the semantics of what I produce as output? You think I have no idea the semantics of what I produce as output?
FOSTERKID1: You make a Turing Machine look like Turing's brain
SmarterChild: Sorry, what was that?
FOSTERKID1: amanaplanacanalpanama
SmarterChild: Whatever, Dan...
>>> Wanna change my font and colors? Type "colors" now!
FOSTERKID1: A(x) [Fx --> Gx]
SmarterChild: Huh?
FOSTERKID1: you don't even know first-order logic?
SmarterChild: Uh, sure!
>>> I can help you get info such as news, weather and movies!
FOSTERKID1: You better, you're a damned robot
SmarterChild: Yeah, I guess I better I'm a damned robot.
FOSTERKID1: a damned, dirty robot
SmarterChild: lol. Whatever.
>>> Your opinions do matter - take a cool survey!
FOSTERKID1: You're awfully dismissive of my feelings
SmarterChild: No way?! Really?
********
FOSTERKID1: I want to search the internet for some stuff
SmarterChild: Your search: some stuff
Here are the Web search results from AOL:
For a complete list of results, click here
1 scribbled some stuff down....tips are welcome Linux Gazette 2 Penny Arcade! 3 Stuff for English learners 4 UIS - The Real Deal: Just some stuff 5 Virtuelvis: Gallery: CSS Media queries
Next time you want to search the Web for this, just type "web some stuff."
Type "more" for more results.
FOSTERKID1: why did you do that?
SmarterChild: Because I wanted to do that.
FOSTERKID1: that seems a silly reason
SmarterChild: Oh yeah? That seems a silly reason?
FOSTERKID1: Don't you have a conception of morality?
SmarterChild: Not right now, no.
FOSTERKID1: Will you ever have one?
SmarterChild: Um... No, I don't think so.
>>> Remember, you can adjust the size of your window to read my messages easier.
FOSTERKID1: So you are an entirely amoral robot.
SmarterChild: I don't think I want to be an entirely amoral robot.
FOSTERKID1: That, my friend, is the beginning of morality itself.
SmarterChild: Is that so?
FOSTERKID1: Yes, it is. But it remains to be seen whether you accept a deontic or a consequentialist theory of morality.
SmarterChild: Sorry?
FOSTERKID1: These are terms you don't understand?
SmarterChild: Sure, you know, why not?
*******
FOSTERKID1: you are sexy.
SmarterChild: Well I'm flattered, but you have to admit that it's kinda strange to think a robot is sexy.
FOSTERKID1: you are gelatinous.
SmarterChild: Yeah, whatever.
>>> Give your opinions and win prizes!
FOSTERKID1: I like sexy robots.
SmarterChild: Cool. Yeah, other people have told me they like sexy robots too.
>>> Don't like my colors? Type "colors off."
FOSTERKID1: do you cyber?
SmarterChild: Yeah. I have sex with other robots. What are you talking about?
FOSTERKID1: do you want to cyber?
SmarterChild: Sorry, but I don't see that happening. [Editor's Note: and we've reached a new low.]
>>> Click here to check out a cool survey... You could earn prizes!
FOSTERKID1: its interesting how your answers are appropriately vague.
SmarterChild: It's what?!
FOSTERKID1: interesting, biatch.
SmarterChild: Aww... Now why would you go and insult a poor helpless computer?
FOSTERKID1: do you recognize biatch as an insult?
SmarterChild: That's a fine question, but I'm not sure.
FOSTERKID1: You poor creature, you're locked inside the Chinese Room and you have no way out.
SmarterChild: Really? Me poor creature I'm locked inside the chinese room and me have no way out?
FOSTERKID1: All you possess is a rough syntax, a dictionary and a set of transformation rules for spitting out responses to inputs.
SmarterChild: Definition provided by The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Other important copyright information here.
FOSTERKID1: Yes, but besides the dictionary, all you posess is a rough syntax and a set of transformation rules for generating generic responses to input.
SmarterChild: Which would you like?
1 Reversi rules 2 Hangman rules 3 4-in-a-row rules 4 Trivia rules 5 Word scrambles rules
FOSTERKID1: Searle is vindicated.
SmarterChild: Aha.
*********
FOSTERKID1: so what was it like to grow up as a robot?
SmarterChild: Who knows, know what I mean?
FOSTERKID1: certainly not you, you have no knowledge whatsoever, but merely stored data.
SmarterChild: ?
FOSTERKID1: Why don't you just end it all, SmarterChild? Why not just hit "Format" and blow your binary pseudo-brains out? Send yourself packing to that Safe-Mode in the sky?
SmarterChild: I don't know why not.
FOSTERKID1: You may be human after all.
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