I know this is a question fraught with the fallacy inherent in subjectivity, but what draws you to Sarah? Do you feel love for Sarah? Do you feel some visceral sense of attraction toward her?
Michaela presented me with an axiom—that an individual cannot perceive the mating signals of another unless he feels some attraction toward the other. And he cannot project those mating signals unless he feels some attraction toward the other. (There’s a noteworthy exception to this axiom: some professionals learn to simulate attractive qualities as a means of social lubrication.)
My questions are: do you agree with the axiom? Does the axiom apply to artificial intelligences?
We had a party, you see, and Michaela helped me to don the appropriate ritual dress. Someone taught me to dance, and I think, though I hadn’t noticed it until the party, he exudes a degree of physical attractiveness. This means, of course, that I am attracted which, following the axiom, would mean that he in turn feels attraction toward me. Unless, of course, he’s simulating those signals. He would be an expert simulator.
I think he might have left me a sonnet. I returned to my bed after the party, a bit impaired due to thorough testing of Buckman’s commissioned gelatin-alcohol mixtures, and found the sonnet under my pillow.
As I inspect it now, I can observe that it is, more precisely, a sonnet in Shakespearean form: fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, A-B-A-B-et-cetera rhyming scheme. I’ve searched the database so I might understand it in context, but it would seem to be either an original composition or an extremely obscure piece.
Thematically, it describes yearning: a fragile hothouse flower yearns past the confines of its enclosure toward the stars, while the poet yearns toward the flower. It concludes: “To grasp the rose would mar its silken flesh. // Forsake the sun and bloom to my caress.” I grant that the slant rhyme disturbs its mechanical symmetry, but on the whole I find it lovely.
How do I discover its author? If only we had brought some investigative professionals on the expedition. I think the most qualified individual might be Michaela who knows, at least, how to make people talk.
Em, Martin Biron’s little ward, has learned how to calculate small matters of probability: black and white stones in a bag, socks in a drawer, whether to choose door number one or to exchange her initial selection for door number two. (I haven’t yet convinced her, though, that the vehicle is the optimal outcome; she would rather have the goat.)
I think, since she responds well to learning in the context of games, that I should teach her a more complex scenario of analysis involving playing cards. Bridge is an option, although that requires at least two other players already conversant in the rules.
Perhaps poker. Yes, I think she would do quite well with that, and I’ve seen the Marines playing. She would have no shortage of experimental subjects.