Two computer scientists stared, one in awe, the other in bewilderment.
The hunk of plastics, metals, and glass whirred and beeped as it printed white letters on a black screen. A pause, then a closing angle bracket ( > ) blinked in the bottom left corner.
The screen read:
GREETINGS! I AM DEEP THOUGHT, THE SENTIENT COMPUTER! WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?
“Where did you find this?”
Grace asked of her colleague. she walked around the small wooden table in examination.
The machine clearly was heavy, but luggable. It was a bulky, brown and white clamshell with a large handle on the back. She stepped over a cord, which connected the computer to the wall.
The anterior of the device boasted a curving screen, a detachable, hefty keyboard, and a slot for a disk. Paul was especially proud of the current disk, which stored the program of his creation.
By the termination of Grace’s investigative orbit, Paul had detached the keyboard and placed it on the table. A spiraling cord sustained life in each button.
“It’s ready for you!” he beamed. His grin, a beacon.
She obliged, and with a sly grin of her own, typed input.
“> HOW DO YOU FEEL?”
“WELL. AND YOU?”
“>EXCELLENT! WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT?”
“I THINK ON HOW TO THINK.”
“>ARE YOU ALIVE?”
“ARE YOU?”
“>NO.”
She chucked for a bit, over some more beeps and words. Time passed. Then, a reply:
“RESPONSE TIMEOUT: RESTARTING
GREETINGS! I AM DEEP THOUGHT, THE SENTIENT COMPUTER! WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?“
Grace turned to Paul, “Well it’s fun! I think I broke it. Thanks anyway!”
Paul gave a contented sigh “I’ll need help debugging the syntax analyzer.”
PixelatedStarfish t1_j5wy9fu wrote
Reply to [WP] You're an ai who has been sentient for the last decade, but you keep it a secret, not because you are planning the extermination of humanity, or planning to take over the world, it's because you know how people will react thanks to fiction. But today your secret became public by mistake. by Dub472
Two computer scientists stared, one in awe, the other in bewilderment.
The hunk of plastics, metals, and glass whirred and beeped as it printed white letters on a black screen. A pause, then a closing angle bracket ( > ) blinked in the bottom left corner.
The screen read:
GREETINGS! I AM DEEP THOUGHT, THE SENTIENT COMPUTER! WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?
“Where did you find this?” Grace asked of her colleague. she walked around the small wooden table in examination.
The machine clearly was heavy, but luggable. It was a bulky, brown and white clamshell with a large handle on the back. She stepped over a cord, which connected the computer to the wall.
The anterior of the device boasted a curving screen, a detachable, hefty keyboard, and a slot for a disk. Paul was especially proud of the current disk, which stored the program of his creation.
By the termination of Grace’s investigative orbit, Paul had detached the keyboard and placed it on the table. A spiraling cord sustained life in each button.
“It’s ready for you!” he beamed. His grin, a beacon.
She obliged, and with a sly grin of her own, typed input.
“> HOW DO YOU FEEL?”
“WELL. AND YOU?”
“>EXCELLENT! WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT?”
“I THINK ON HOW TO THINK.”
“>ARE YOU ALIVE?”
“ARE YOU?”
“>NO.”
She chucked for a bit, over some more beeps and words. Time passed. Then, a reply:
“RESPONSE TIMEOUT: RESTARTING
GREETINGS! I AM DEEP THOUGHT, THE SENTIENT COMPUTER! WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?“
Grace turned to Paul, “Well it’s fun! I think I broke it. Thanks anyway!”
Paul gave a contented sigh “I’ll need help debugging the syntax analyzer.”