H_O_M_O_ R_A_T_I_O_N_A_L_I_S_(SCIENCE FICTION)Chris MYRSKI, Sofia, Bulgaria ?1979 ... 2023— — — — —
— — — — — CONTENTS Foreword The recruit It sounds logical The discovery of professor Kolossov The stimulator of Peter MacGreeves The clover The marriage proposal Right of choice Homo Rationalis The tunnel The cannibals Biological partner The order The sixth day Homo Retarded Nights and days of a young robo-mother What else if not afterlife? Afterword — — — — — P A R T N I N E — excerpts!NIGHTS AND DAYS OF A YOUNG ROBO-MOTHER Hello, my dear people! My name is Entelecheia and I am an young robo-mother. Well, young according to robo-standards, for I am really a bit older than 100, but, after all, this is the very bloom of youth, isn't it? Because it is taken that the robots live till 500 years, yet this is so, for definiteness, and there is also not enough statistics, individual robots are produced for a little more than 300 years, but if we change the bodies we are practically immortal. And you are not, and with the coming of new people one must always teach you, must explain to you that we, well, love you somehow, and you must also love us, but we, though living very close, live like, say, Muslims with Hebrews, right? So that is why I have decided to write for you this story, for to make you to know us better. Because neither we read particularly much your books, nor you can understand our selectionated information. I mean that you can understand us, like I am now writing for you and you can read everything, but rarely some of the robots does this, as far as I know. Yet I am a clever robotess, Entelecheia according to Aristotle is a kind of energy hidden in the body, which can show itself, but may also not show, from here comes the word intellect. And one of the friends of my mother Entropy, Turmoil, we call him uncle Turmy, usually calls me Ente, and I thought initially that this is fondly, until found out that Ente in German means ... a she-duck. But what of it, this is, all the same, lovingly. So that your Ente will describe to you her life of individual robot, and exactly in human language, and more precisely in your native one. And we do not specially like to "read" your fiction books because they are really inventions, fables, lies in some extent. In the sense that to "read" some of your books this is nothing for us, we do this for less than one second, but in order to process and comprehend it is necessary some time; yet the point is not in the time, we have more than enough time, the point is that after the proper processing it turns out that it has taught us nothing. Ha, ha. Do you get it? We detest to waste our time for silly things, with little exceptions, like for example, in order to learn better a given language is necessary to know its idioms, and they are to be found first of all in conversational speech, not in scientific literature; or also when we want to learn some fairy tales which we have to tell the children for whom we care, like me now, or to know better the people with whom we communicate, i.e. "duty-bound". So-o, and to process, to comprehend means to build our frames (structures, carcasses, tables, diagrams) for all important terms and link them together. This requires time, and is based on our individual knowledge and for this reason is necessary not only to extract the proper frames, but also to relate them with what we already know, or with this from where we can learn it, with the knowledge bases; this corresponds to your process of learning. But then later we can easier convey this knowledge to other robots, using our own and more universal, not human, notions. ... A-ah, excuse me, I was away for some time because have to look what is doing the little Yvette, as well also my Pantocrator. Yvette, naturally, sleeps blissfully, and that she is not covered isn't frightful because in the room is 24 degrees Celsius; and my Panty, in his 5th month, is exercising, stands on one hand or foot, jumps and so on, due to the fact that the brain of the robots is finished, but it is nearly empty, and he has to get used with the extremities, what more can he do? For us to watch animated movies or something of the kind, real art, is the same as to switch to stand-by, and to the young robots, even till 3 years, this is forbidden, they have always something to learn. So that where I was? Ah, on the frames, but ... Sep 2016 — — — — — WHAT ELSE IF NOT AFTERLIFE? Let me tell you first my name and then the other things. So I am Jack, yet not like that guy from London, if you see what I mean. I intend to enlighten you about the so modern these days modeled souls, or spirits of deaths, or forever living, or artificial personalities, or invented human entities, and so on, or rather about Psychologically Modeled Thinking Human Substitutes, PMTHS, often pronounced as Psym substitutes. You may say that they are seen everywhere and some of you are even sick of them, but, people, the obvious things must also be explained, because there comes time when they are forgotten or misunderstood (and what if some intelligent beings from another galaxy have somehow come to our Web pages and can read them, but need explanations?), so that I am writing for the posterity, so to say, such things happen. And I, although young guy, have some deeper than the usual knowledge about these souls, because I am studying Philosophy modeling, what is one of the modern computer modelings, and there are persons who still have never heard about one Eliza program of one Weizenbaum guy a pair of centuries back (in 1966 at MIT). Such people either think that in computer programming everything is possible, or that everything is cheating, while these souls exist now nearly half a century and become cheaper every year; they are, unquestioningly, our future. Plus this I am working with these gadgets, while studying, so that I also understand them, help them, love them, and they are alive for me, in a way. Because: what is life, from standpoint of cybernetics, of processing of information? Ah, it is some program, to be sure, it (the living object) has memory cells, it has rules that command the reaction of the thing to different stimuli, it produces some effects, that influence its further activity, and so on. And if life is information then information can be, if not always, then in many cases also life; the biectivity is not strictly proven, but is natural to be expected, so that the modeled substitutes is quite natural to be thought and taken for alive (if we forget about the … secretion of body organs, ha-ha, from the frontal or the posterior side). * * * The traditional Psyms nowadays, as you know, have form of an electric torch, or thick pencil, and weigh about 100 gr, or even less (if you have redundant money), and the only action they need to be done is to change their battery from time to time (roughly once in a quarter year). But this is the terminal part, the device, not the program, which is also not kept in them but on a computer accessible via Internet, just like an usual cell phone, from where they were developed as separate (or stand-alone) programs. This was quite natural evolvement of the things (like, hmm, that if you have a … slot, it is natural that someone will want to stick there some "coin", right?), and this was done before more than a century, yet without the device, just as a program that you can call and play with it, asking questions, or advices (what was more interesting than tossing a coin in difficult situations). Only that the real "torches" have 2 (as a rule) video cameras (in order to ensure stereo vision), microphone, usually not speaker, and some indicators like for the battery, for calling of attention (a blue one), for saying "yes" or "no" (or "don't know", if both eyes are switched on), and sometimes a pair of places for small digits or letters (or also more places, but this is on the stem of the gadget). Well, there are always new additions, but these are the basic elements. And they have at the bottom place for inserting of circular battery, as well also a kind of foot to be fixed to some stand, with a tick-tock button, which performs also function of connection to the power supply; and the head of the piece can be inclined to some small angle, sometimes also the foot. This is in brief. These gadgets were initially kept at home, then people have begun to fix them on the graves, when their prices have fallen, like now to about 20 Euro dollars (I will shorten it to Eu$, where, for comparison, 1 chicken egg costs about 15 cents), but, you see, it is hardly probable to steal them, to remove the chip with the PIN-code and resell them, for 3-4 times cheaper price, because these are highly valued items, and one will try to buy original gadget for his (or her) deceased relatives. In this way even when they were about 50 Eu$ many persons have kept them on the cemetery. But then the question arose: why should they keep them there, why not to allow the dead to watch what is around them, to be put in some interesting places, in parks and gardens, on some squares, stadiums, walls of important buildings, bus stops, et cetera? And then some Municipalities have come to the idea to provide special stands for these devices, usually in form of flowers, like seeds of them (if this is sunflower, or chrysanthemum, or the like), at a height of 1 to 2 meters. And from that point on we have begun to care about our dead relatives, be it only symbolically and in doubt whether this is real existence in the afterlife. And the batteries of these stands I have begun to check and change, if these are batteries (because there can be solar batteries, or supply from the mains, yet they also need checking). This is an easy job, but someone has to do it, and there are additional possibilities both, for earning of money, and for cares for the deads (be it even cares for the feelings of the living relatives). So that I will continue my narration. ... 02.2023 — — — — — AFTERWORD I must with all seriousness tell you that now I am closing at last this book with supposed SF stories, because have reached … my ceiling in the art of invention. Yet it must have been closed for other reasons, because nobody keeps open a book for nearly … half of a century, surely, when my first such story was written about 1979 and now we are 2023-rd. And I am in my 73-rd year now (and am beginning to go blind in my left eye). But well, one could have probably coped with all this, because I will continue to write something for a pair of years more, and some funny poetry from time to time (or rather, from day to day), but when I have cast a look at the dates of my last stories it turned out that they are, as follows: 2001, 2012, 2016, and now 2023, what is really a shame (it is like — I am sorry, but I want just to give an example — to screw a girl once in 5 or so years)! Yes, I have kept the idea for the last story probably for several years in my head, knowing neither in, nor out of the dilemma. The point is, how I have mentioned this several times, that I am a scientist, not real fiction writer, so that I can not really invent stories but extrapolate some existing tendencies, what are different things. The real story- (or novel-) teller starts with some sucked out of his fingers situation and bothers only to show logical conclusions from that point on, where "logical" usually means the contrary, i.e. silly or infatuated or passionate etc. behaviour, while a scientist endowed with imagination starts either from the reality, or from some logical (according to him) thought or idea, and is interested not in the emotions but in the truthful depicting of the situation; there is some kind of intersection between both types of writers only in this, that they try to make people (and first themselves) believe in the invented stories, to sound convincingly. From all my as if SF stories the most really invented one was the smallest, about the Clover, where I had practically no idea (except that the children are in many cases better than the grown-ups). Anyway, I am material being, so that I am bound sometime to become tired of everything, and want to stop it (the everything). I don't say that it is not possible for me to try to write something without deep ideas in it, this is possible, yet not much probable. And with this, plus the final Limerick-type verse, I say Adieu or Farewell to you, hoping that you will begin, after all, to copy my works, because else they may simply disappear (and then will remain only my pleasure during the time of their writing, which has long ago disappeared in the eternity). M`y brain cells are getting pretty lazy, and my memory 's-not more like daisy. It's becoming crunchy like a cracker, and I soon will go to meet my Maker. Hence, of further efforts may go crazy. 03.2023 — — — — — E N D |
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