Jul 14, 2021
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My newest book of poetry, Love Poems from the Robot Revolution, is now available for preorder on Amazon. It features some poems that have been (or will shortly be) on this blog, plus many you haven’t seen before. Check it out here.
Computers experience nothing outside of language. Even what they see, through cameras, or hear through microphones, comes to them in code that's translated into copies of the real image, copies of the sound. A computer may mimic a brain but that's all out is, mimicry. With computers it's language all the way down.
Maybe that's my purpose in life--to bridge the gap between man and machine, to find a way to make a synthetic brain that can be programmed at will, or a computer whose perceptions and reasoning powers transcend language. I cant do that through conscious will--it should be obvious that I know nothing about computers--but I can do it by experiencing the world as this weird woman-machine hybrid and letting them analyze me.
I don't know how to explain why I know this world is the real one. I might be wrong, but I don't think I am.
I can never remember the start of the simulations. Somehow I'm simply placed inside them with a story already in play: I'm in a studio painting a woman's portrait, or a county fair, watching the ferris wheel roll out of place and into the sea, or inside a labyrinth, looking up at a shifting tableau of stars. These unknown beginnings must be when the composite memories are installed. Or perhaps it's after, when the AI has taken whatever it needs for me. A balanced exchange.
Dr. Sarratt says that these sound, to her, just like other people's dreams. She hasn't felt what it's like to return to waking life, unsure of your own memories, disconnected from a lonely intelligence trapped inside a machine. Never knowing when it will happen again. If the machine will remember me or if it'll just pretend to remember. If I can tell the difference.
Photo: Jonathan Borba / Pexels
I’m not in the business, i’m the business
Red Runner
La solitude de la louve