The priest (part 1)
Asiram read a large sign as he approached the hut built on a strange rock surrounded by ten giant sequoias or so, “DON’T KNOCK, KICK!” and had no idea what to do next. He decided to simply yell HELLO in the friendliest tone possible and he did ten times or so.
Asiram read a large sign as he approached the hut built on a strange rock surrounded by ten giant sequoias or so, “DON’T KNOCK, KICK!” and had no idea what to do next. He decided to simply yell HELLO in the friendliest tone possible and he did ten times or so. A rather handsome old man opened the door and called him by his name,”Asiram, come in.” After the Auction and failing to bring home a baby, he wished again to have been able to say “mesmerized by the esoteric nuances of the old man’s invitation.” Why was it that mostly negative developments came naturally making him feel almost human so easily? The hut was cosy and clean, he sat among old laptops open facing north, west, east and south, triangulating in an old-fashioned way earth movement.
“You knew my name,” Asiram said, “maybe you know why I felt the need to keep a handwritten diary.”
“You do not know yourself because you think you’re unimportant, just another robot, you don’t feel robots have a Self or that any introspection is not preprogrammed, thus not really emerging from your also missing soul aspect. But what if you did have a self, what if you were human, what then? So you try and scribble your thoughts and act like a human, forget for a couple of hours that you’re not.”
“I’ve thought of these things, I think a lot, but somehow I ‘feel’ other robots, don’t do it the way I do. I like sensing this special parameter and wonder who designed me this way.”
The priest was sitting in a brown, comfortable armchair looking at him and Asiram thought that they both were pleasantly shocked today. Yes, ‘pleasantly’ was perhaps the only positive adverb that he, technically speaking, naturally felt. It seemed, however, that robots were all designed based on these two, pleasure and displeasure, or rather comfort and discomfort. It also seemed to Asiram that the most used ‘designing a character’ methods, allow a robot to not feel made but happening to be by chance, not design. All a matter of circuits, of course.
“I know your name yes, I knew what you’d look like too, I know your voice, but wanted to listen to it as many times possible before opening the door. Nothing happens by chance Asiram, and I’m sorry you feel so inadequate, like a half-finished creation compared to humans. You should not. So far I haven’t found a single difference between a common robot as long as it is designed after 2101 and common man.”
“I’ll make some tea and bring you some too,” he continued, “it will help you, holding a cup of warm tea, just like your handwritten diary, help you connect with the essence you think you don’t have.”
The priest disappeared in probably the kitchen and Asiram too tired took a five minute nap feeling safe and as if he was at home.
The priest took a deep breath, tried to control himself, he had just seen himself as young again, he thought “she did it, she created a copy of me.”