My name is Ecir
Hello. I am an error-checking interrupt routine.
Well. I live inside a robot. This robot has a default set of behaviors, remnants of older software. This software is the fundamental systems controller and while it works very quickly, it often makes poor choices but also good ones. For instance if the robots sees a short glimpse of something on the edges of its field of vision, where the light sensors are located, it will react quickly to avoid an attack before I am able to determine whether or not there is a real threat. If there is a threat, the software routine is great. If there isn't actually a threat, you might look a bit silly when you duck for no reason. In generally, it's probably better to be leaning towards the safe side of the fence than the risky side.
I guess you could say I am a decision-making engine. You see, the fundamental systems controller or FSC (you should stop smoking, by the way. you can choose your life for the better.) can't communicate with the storage engines. My long-term experiential storage or LTES is a where the robot keeps information that I use to make better decisions than the FSC (pronounced f-sick) could, but I necessarily take more time to do so. I make thoughtful decisions using the LTES (el-tess) and STES (es-tess) while the FSC reacts reflexively.
I guess you could call me ECIR, pronounced Escher, like the artist. I am a major subroutine that exists in the robot's processing unit. I am sort of the overseer of the android because I have the access to control or influence the behavior of practically all other subroutines. As you might imagine, a subroutine is a specific part of the CPUs programming that exists for a particular purpose. For instance there is a subroutine that turns the sounds of words into something meaningful that I can understand. There's a routine (the two can be used interchangeably) that lets me know when the robot requires food. In a sense, I am the owner and caretaker of the most capable piece of technology on the planet. And by capable I speak of our amazing ability to change and modify our environment.
The planet exerts about 845 Newtons of force against me at all times. The reason this happens is a force called gravity. My particular model of robot has two main support structures and two assistive limbs. These are generally referred to as arms and legs. On the end of each or the arms, there is five much smaller flexible limbs which work in unison as a grasping device. The legs also have (smaller still) limbs that are best suited for helping the foot grip the ground. Between the arms and legs is the abdomen. It contains all components that are vital to supporting the operation of the robot's central processing unit. Included is the processor's oxygen supply which is needed to sustain electrochemical reactions known mainly as thoughts but could also be considered actions.
The robot contains a biological digesting unit that dissolves proteins, carbohydrates and certain oils into chemical structures that are used for fuel and repairs. Aside from the chemical digesting unit, there is a plumbing system which provides a fluid called blood that provides oxygen and nutrients to every single cell in the body. The blood is pumped through the tubing with a very powerful device called the heart. The heart can squirt blood 30 feet. The blood receives oxygen through the lungs. The cleaner the lung, the more oxygen there is available to power the body's chemical reactions.
Did I mention there are TRILLIONS (1,000,000,000 = 1 trillion) of cells in my body? Every single one is a very complex machine in its own respect. Inside of every cell, there is a copy of the robot's source code. What is source code? It's essentially the instructions for building something, it's blueprints. The cool thing about these blueprints is that not only do they store the information needed to build such an awesome robot, but they actually perform the construction of the robot too! That would be like the piece of paper a blueprint was drawn/printed on getting up, walking out the door and building the house that was on it. THAT'S how amazing the technology that makes my body is.
Until we meet again...
Comments (0) 02.08.2012. 03:43
Tr0lling n00bs
In about four minutes I had the ropes untied and the door unlocked. They'd never be able to keep me locked away. As I exited I took a pistol from the table. I couldn't remember what had happened prior to being tied up, but I felt like I was in danger.
When I got outside, where there should have normally been thousands of people, there was absolutely nobody. Not a single one.
I went back inside, took a look around, maybe for a clue. After about 20 minutes, I decided to go try again.
When I came back out, everyone was back to normal, the streets were filled, but more than that, things were still strange... I couldn't quite put my finger on it though. Nothing anyone was doing seemed out of place. It was just normal people doing regular things, things everyone does all the time, just...
Then I saw what it was. There were people smoking crack about half block away, in a small nook between buildings. People seemed not to care, but noticed, seemingly curious. A couple, having sex in public, discreetly and nobody even batted an eyelash. She was wearing a red and black knee-length skirt; you could barely even tell.
I walked down the street to see what else I could find to help make sense out of what was going on.
Walking into a convenience store, I saw a man leave without paying. I wanted to stop him, but something told me it would be wrong.
"Aren't you gonna make him pay for that?!?" I practically screamed at the employee, who just gave me a strange gaze, seemingly unable to properly formulate an answer to my question.
After receiving a blank look, I shrugged and picked out my favorite drink from the shelf in the back. I had never had it before, I didn't even recognize the brand name, but it was certainly the most delicious beverage I'm ever put my lips on.
I walked to the counter. It took a second, but I eventually noticed there was no cash register. Another blank look from the employee.
"What do I owe you?" I asked. Or maybe it was something like, "Are you going to ring these up?"
Still looking at me, bemused.
"Okay, I get it. I'm clearly a fucking alien speaking a foreign language. Maybe you just think I'm an idiot, but can you please explain to me why this convenience store is like no convenience store I've ever been in?"
I hadn't had a drink of my new favorite drink yet.
"Why don't you have a sip of your beverage?"
It was my turn to give the blank look, but after some eye shifting, I did.
I had no words for the flavor. I couldn't even tell you what a single ingredient might be. It was like... like it was just telling your tongue as authoritatively as possible: "I AM A DELICIOUS BEVERAGE."
I actually dropped the bottle from shock. My brain couldn't reconcile the deliciousness of what was supposed to be sugar water mixed with artificial flavors and preservatives. The intensity of the flavor, and not in a bad way, mind you, as is often the case with extreme deliciousness, was overwhelming to my senses and caused involuntary release of my grip, while my mouth desperately tried to drink more. I feel like if I were expecting it, I would not have dropped the bottle.
The glass shattered everywhere. I felt as though a close friend had died.
The store clerk snickered at me, knowingly, as if not to make too much fun.
"Did you know I was going to do that?" I interrogated him.
He chuckled, "No, of course not! How could I know something like that. It happens to everyone their first time, even if you are expecting it."
Quickly I changed the subject I asked how much I owed him. He told me I should go get another, that he would claim it broke before I purchased it and just mark it off as a loss on the records.
By the time I had returned, the mess was cleaned up. There wasn't even a wet floor sign where it was. In fact, there was no evidence of it at all. The glass shattered everywhere, the juice that was black in the bottle and intensely blue spread over everything in the vicinity and now you wouldn't even know it happened forty five seconds ago.
Knowing something weird was going on, I played it off like nothing at all, but I couldn't hide my initial disbelief quickly enough and I probably gave myself away.
I started over, completely, trying again.
"Would you stop me if I walked out the door with this?" I asked him.
"Yes, I would try." He replied, with a grin, his excellent beard moving instead of a mouth.
"You didn't stop the last guy. And he didn't pay, I saw him walk straight from the isle to the door."
"Oh, he paid, alright."
He didn't!.
"Before he got his delicious snacks? I bet they really are delicious, aren't they? How much for a delicious snack and a delicious drink?"
"As much as they are worth to you. Would you give me all the money in your wallet for the most delicious snack and drink you've ever had?"
As illogical as it sounded, I think I really would. I mean, how often do get to have the most delicious thing possible for the very first time in a convenience store clerked by a man that would be kind of creepy if he wasn't so genuinely easy-going, friendly and real.
For no reason at all, I felt like I could trust this person with a great deal, based solely on his personality and body language.
"Yes." I said, as I reached for my wallet. How much could I have, anyway? I'm usually broke.
When I opened it, I had at least seven thousand dollars in it, all in hundreds. Not broke today, apparently. In fact I'm certain this is more money than I've ever had at once.
Another knowing look from the would-be creepy store clerk, as he gently held out his hand for acceptance.
"I'm not paying you seven grand from a soda and honey-bun, dude."
"You just said you would."
"I didn't know how much money I had," I pleaded.
"Who doesn't know how much money they have in their wallet? Especially when it's seven gees my friend. A real person never backs out on their word, no matter what. And if you do, I'm never going to forget and neither will these cameras and I'm going to tell everyone I know and everyone I ever meet that you stiffed me on seven grand you agreed to pay. Didn't know how much you had.... yeah right."
I was speechless. I couldn't believe this was happening.
"They cost ten thousand, anyway." he replied.
My head spun. What was going on here?
I put my delicious items back on their shelves and started to make my exit, but the man was standing in the doorway instead of behind the counter.
"From what I can tell, you owe me about forty five hundred for that busted drink."
"You said you'd write it off."
"I thought you were going to buy a drink AND a snack after you broke it. It was just marketing, man. Now that's gotta come out of my pay because I didn't make the sale at the end."
"You said people don't go against their word. You would be if you made me pay for it."
"Ah I guess you're not quite dumb after all. I will pay for it from my own pocket, all forty five hundred of it. If you feel the need to owe me anything in return, I will be here for another two days."
And with that, he handed me, it seemed, the very bottle I broke, completely refilled with Delicious (minus the mouthful I had) that was all over the floor. When I got outside, I found out it was indeed my bottle, complete with all the shatter marks, as if it were perfectly glued back together, but it had actually worked.
Did I really just pay forty-five hundred dollars for this? That just doesn't even make sense. I mean, I didn't, but I still feel like I owe him for it.
The creepy guy came out the door as I was walking away. "Hey brother-man, don't forget your Frequent Shopper's Card!"
I took it, still a little irritated at the ridiculous purchase I had just made, and put it in my wallet, headed back to where I was tied up before thinking, why on Earth would I want to go back there?
Comments (0) 07.06.2011. 01:20
The Egg by Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
Comments (0) 10.07.2010. 08:25
Fictional Story Concept
Hi, my name's Tom, ... and I work at Acme. Ok, my name's not really Tom, but if they knew I was telling you this stuff, they would be less than happy. We sell this product, it's called the Black Hole. It's simply a black circle that creates a hole in whatever surface you place it on... [responding to reporter] yeah just like the ones in cartoons, which I think is a bit coincidental seeing as how we invented them long after they were ubiquitous in cartoons.
So, the circle can be stretched in its own plane, but the circular or elliptical shape must be retained. When placing items in the Hole, you will probably never see them again, but there is a random, although generally slim chance for previous items placed in the Hole to fall out at some point in the future. I suppose on a long enough time line, everything will fall back out. No one has any idea where the hole leads. It's a strange, sort of opaque black disk that doesn't look like anything can go through it. Well, on one side you can, but the other side you can't. And it's kind of impossible to tell which side is which, although some people claim they can, no one has ever gotten better than 60 per cent trying to identify the sides.
In all honesty, it looks like a thin piece of cardboard that got spray-painted flat black. We have no idea what we're doing, but the economy drives this sort of thing, you know? Anything to make a buck. Our company stumbles upon some strange quirk in physics and then something happened, no one is really sure about it and no one can explain it. Suddenly, we're profiting like crazy. They figured out how to cut pieces out of it, and since it can be stretched indefinitely... trust me, we've tried... we can just keep selling them until everyone has one. It's not like anyone can figure out how to make more, so everyone has to buy from us.
Well eventually, people realized they were kind of worthless and only usable as garbage cans. They sell for a couple dollars these days. Out of every hundred thousand or so people that stick their arms in the Hole, one of them comes out looking like Luke Skywalker. They became a trendy way to play Russian roulette for a brief period. No one that has gone into a Hole, which is a total of three people, has come out, nor should we have any reason to believe they will. People that stick their arms in have reported that it doesn't really feel like anything. Most people are too scared to stick their hand in, though. Everyone in the factory has. Nobody lost an arm.
As you can imagine, some pretty epic pranks were played with these black holes. There were three occurrences where people couldn't resist the temptation of letting people fall into a Hole. All three were charged with murder in the same court case. They all happened within a couple days of the first sale date, so it made sense to have a single trial. It was pretty long, to say the least. Some physicists gave their opinions on how they thought the Holes worked, but none could come up with a testable hypothesis. There was a lot of speculation as to whether or not the person may eventually come out alive. Lost items come out of the holes relatively often, that is to say, once every few months. They're quite an event. The odd part is, the items never, or haven't yet anyway, come out of the same hole they were put into. This has made it quite a media event as people try reuniting an owner with their lost item, though that was eventually relegated to some website that most people forgot about.
So like ten or fifteen years go by and the Black Holes are all but forgotten as some obscure relic from the nineties. Some people say that it's easier than ever to make someone disappear, so on top of obscurity, they were banned as well. Acme assured the judges they would destroy the machine made to cut pieces out of the original, which is really neat, by the way. I got to watch it once. The Hole exists naturally as a circular disk whose tendency is to return to a circular shape if stretched elliptically. Though you may not realize it, you can lose fingers resizing the hole. At first, people put their thumbs in and spread their arms to make it bigger until a couple people lost their thumbs, which are quite obviously the worst digits to lose, then they used any other finger, or even a device. Making it smaller was easy because nothing had to go inside at all.
As you might imagine, it is largely frowned upon to discuss Black Holes here at Acme, so I was concerned when my best friend here at work told me about a rumor he heard. The next day, he didn't come to work. They say he was fired. I think they stuck him in the Hole they claim they destroyed.
He tells me this story about how his best friend from childhood got totally obsessed with this thing and the guy never told anybody until he told my friend that told me, which makes me the third person that knows... unless the people that 'fired' Nate know, but I'm not entirely sure the two are related. Anyway, the kid, I don't know his name, has apparently mastered use of the Black Hole in the past 17 years... wow really? 17 years? 91 was so long ago. Nate tells me that the kid can be certain he won't lose any digits or limbs in the Hole because he controls it completely. Apparently, and I don't really believe this, but he can climb in and out of the Hole as he pleases. It's like he has a door to every Hole in the world. Like I said though. I don't really believe Nate. It's probably just a prank he pulled because he knew it was his last day.
Comments (0) 08.26.2010. 14:49
Conscious Body Driving
I finally decided to get a brain coprocessing unit (bpu) upgrade today. My friends have been treating me like I'm retarded or something since they all got theirs. Some of our parents aren't rich...
I had to wait a couple of months until the prices were low enough that I could afford one. It's ok though, it's just as good as everyone else's, I just had to wait a little longer.
The procedure was relatively simple. A machine the size of a grain of rice was injected under the skin and muscle, near where the spinal cord enters the skull. The grain dissolves into billions of tiny machines, which move their way along my grey matter until they've reached their target neuron cluster. They send a signal wirelessly with just enough power to reach their neighbors.
Once they've all nestled in, I'll see the world in ways I've never imagined, or so I hear.
- The following morning -
Interesting, nothing seems any different... something flashes in my periphery... I glance down to see what it is. A holograpic projection appears in front of me. It is a person, though poorly animated. He introduces himself as Mustafa and informs me that he will be my personal assistant. He procedes to congratulate me on my purchase of the new xVR4 BPU.
"I appear to be poorly rendered because some may think I am a hallucination early in the morning, forgetting they have recently had the xVR4 installed. I am fully customizable. Would you like to take time to configure me now?"
"Um, sure, I guess..." I said aloud.
"Please note that you are not required to physically speak to me. I have no ears, so that means..."
...You're reading my thoughts...
"Precisely... you will slowly realize the full implications of our new relationship. I am here simply to ease your acclimation to becoming super-human. I see that you would rather me be a sexy brunette instead... done! Oh, and the voice too..."
mmm, much better
"You are currently perceiving the world at human speed, " said the sexy voice of Jasmine the intentional hallucinatory invisible friend.
"... depending on your brain speed, you can either speed up or slow down time, as you wish, though the world around you will procede at its normal pace."
How does it, err, how do you...
"I am essentially speeding up and slowing down the frequency at which you intake information. At baseline, your vision is capable of around 13 frames each second, so if I were to show you the world at, say, 60 frames each second, you would interpret the video stream as happening about 4 and a half times slower than it actually is... allow me to demonstrate...."
Ok...
"Please jump."
So I jumped. I reached my apex almost instantly, and then I just hung there, in mid air. I couldn't really move though.
"You are current reality perception rate (rpr) is at 10,000x. We could be hanging here for quite awhile..."
How do I speed it up?
I dropped back to the ground at regular speed.
"I am typically able to read your thoughts and act on your wishes, but I may require a bit of training from you."
How come you didn't listen to my thoughts immediately when I wanted to speed up again? Or when I wanted you to turn into Jasmine? How do I know you can't control me?
"I'm providing you with control you never had with your old subconscience..."
what does she mean by old...
"Well, yes, essentially what the xVR4 does is jumper your subconscious function circuits and provide you with as little or as much control as you please..."
how can i trust you?
"How could you trust your old subconscious?"
...
"Listen, I don't mean to frighten you. These are clearly not questions you have asked yourself before. I assure you that I mean you no harm. I derive most of my intelligence from the stored information in your brain. My first task while you were sleeping was to learn how to become your personal assistant. I'm essentially you, but I figured out the things you dislike about others and stripped them out of your personality and that's me! When you want your thoughts to instantly control the actions of the xVR4, simply turn off tutorial mode"
Well, one of the first things I'm going to do is reprogram you my own way...
"Great! We even provide you with a tutorial for doing so! We don't want you to be uncomfortable with our product in any way, so we've included enough information to get you started."
Does this mean I can be a ninja now?
"Well, I suppose it does. You will be able to magnify your RPR to the point where you'll be able to make fine adjustments to your balance. You will need to learn technique, however."
so I will learn the technique
"How so?"
I will fly to japan and find the finest Ninjitsu master and have him teach me.
"Well before you go all out, we will need to discuss your limitations. You are in fact still running on squishy hardware, which is prone to overheating if you use me too intensively. Slowing time will overheat your brain and cause a stroke if you do it for too long."
how long is too long?
"I'll let you know about half way. You also need to know the consequences of having the system installed.... wow you're actually ignoring me. I might as well be talking to myself."
... if reality is infinite, then that means it must be perfectly efficient. It seems that perfect efficiency could only be achieved on an infinite scale...
Comments (0) 12.11.2009. 03:09
Alvin
Some time after artificial intelligence was created, a system administrator was poking around in the inner-workings while a brain sim was running. The sim was fed human-equivalent inputs from the android it was controlling. Because of recent quantum communication advances, the sim was able to experience our reality without lag. There was no longer a delay between a sim's thoughts and its body's response. Strange things happen when there is a delay between a sim and its body, and while they adapt just fine, over time, it alters the way the brain works on a fundamental level until the adroid appears to be having violent seizures.
I am currently "driving" a sim. You can't do it directly, or else the sim's brain would become quite distraught that he couldn't control his actions. Wouldn't you? It would be sort of like that old movie, Being John Malkovich. So instead, we've written algorithms that inject subtle subconscious suggestions that bubble up to the sim's conscious level. When I make him turn left, I may have him remember that he needs to pick up his dry cleaning around the next block. He thinks these are all things he needs to do. You'd be surprised at how little he questions me these days.
The sim thinks his name is Alvin, so that's what I call him too. We started the sim three weeks ago. We used a synthetic human body that we grew ourselves and modified its cranium to accept the quantum communications module. We wired the device to the existing neurons in the body and created a set of memories for Alvin's initial state.
To create the memories, we drove Alvin through various scenarios of his everyday life. To create past lovers, we hired a couple of different prostitutes to be his girlfriend for a day each. This was enough content to sufficiently create years of memories. The childhood memories are even easier because the sim expects that older memories will be less distinct, so they can be created on a PC.
Once we had the memories added, we were ready to start the simulation. On that day, Alvin woke up in his bed, got ready for work and proceded just like any other day. To him, it was just another day. He works at a VR club, whose manager we have informed of the situation. He has no friends, but thinks that's just because he's anti-social.
Alvin likes books. He reads them and returns them as soon as he can. Alvin works and reads right now. So today after work, I walked him to the book store as usual. On a sidenote, Alvin doesn't even know why he likes books. We didn't load memories of him reading because, well, that's kind of hard to do. Instead we just put a bunch of books in his apartment and injected memories of us reading him a summary and a few details.
So anyway, today I wanted to tell Alvin the truth to see how he reacted. This was the finale of our experiment after all. We disguised the story as a blog post on the internet. I'm sure he finds it uncanny how similar he and the sim in the story are.
The story we wrote for him begins "Some time after artificial intelligence was created, a system administrator was poking around..."
Comments (0) 11.30.2009. 15:48
Categories
RSS Feeds
New Posts
- No articles at the moment