Mentifex posts a new excerpt:
Jeff was talking with the old curmudgeon Cronshaw
when Dmitri walked into Starbucks with Leroy Matthews.
Cronshaw had spent his entire career in the computer
industry and knew it all, plus how to put a bitter,
wisecracking spin on everything. Jeff excused himself
from Cronshaw, pulled out his registered gold Starbucks
card, and sat down with Leroy while Dmitri used the
card to order a drink for chacun a son gout.
"It's been a long time, Leroy," said Jeff.
"COFFEE IF TALK THEN", said Leroy in Forth.
"Here it comes, Leroy. Be careful; it's hot.
Dmitri asked Jeff, "What do you see in Cronshaw
over there? What's his appeal for you?"
"For one thing, Dmitri, Cronshaw is more of a
philosopher than you and I will ever be. He is
an unacknowledged, unappreciated genius. I learn
more from him than from all the textbooks at Berkeley."
"Why does he always wear so many layers of clothing?
Does he feel cold?"
"Cronshaw is afraid of drafts. He's terrified of
catching the sniffles."
"How does he afford hanging out at Starbucks all the time?"
"He is old enough to get the usual money from
Uncle Sugar, and he gets royalties from a lot
of obscure patents in the computer industry.
Leroy was sobering up and beginning to question why
he had been dragged out of his customary circumstances
and into a bastion of vile bodies drinking vile liquids.
"Jeff me boy, what's this all about? Do you really
want me to write you some Forth code? It's my favorite
language, but nobody uses it any more, except those people
who launch space probes and the odd roboticist here and there."
"It's for humanoid robots," said Jeff. "An outfit in
Germany wants to make the fastest possible CPU for
the control of human-like robots. It's for an AI project
that needs a robot sensorium and a robot motorium."
"AI, huh? I used to believe in AI. It was once my major
goal in life. In Lisp, I kept solving problems in AI,
but they kept moving the goalposts on me. No sooner
would I solve a major AI problem, than they would
tell me it wasn't considered AI any more. They
used to say that only a True AI would ever be able
to beat the human chess champion at chess. When programs
I wrote started beating world-class chess players,
they said that winning at chess wasn't AI any more.
It was enough to drive a man to drink. In fact,
it drove me to drink. If I could not solve AI,
I could find the sum of all consolation in a bottle."
"You're going to get another crack at it, Leroy.
This time, nobody is moving the goalposts. In fact,
there aren't any goalposts. You just need to help
Herr von Schwanstein build his 64-bit CPU chip.
Schwanstein has an enormous budget to finance the
project in euros, dollars, or Bitcoin -- take your pick."
"He'll pay me in Bitcoin? How do I know the value
will hold up over time?"
"You don't, Leroy. You just have to take a chance.
Would you rather be paid in euros or in dollars?"
"No, I'll make a bet on Bitcoin. The whole phenomenon
of cyber-currency fascinates me. Bitcoins are still
legal, aren't they?
"When have you ever cared, Leroy? But really,
I don't know. The U.S. Treasury takes a dim view of
anyone muscling in on their prerogative of printing money."
"Aw, Jeffery, nobody prints a Bitcoin. They are just
a software token. People use them for the fun of it,
for the cool-factor. Put me down as accepting payment
in Bitcoin for my first order of preference, then dollars,
then euros. By the way, will I get an all-expenses-paid
trip to Europe out of this deal?"
"I dunno. Are you on the No-Fly List?"
"Heck, I am probably on the Internment List, or the
Shoot-At-Dawn List. I have run afoul of the feds so
many times, I am surprised that I am still pub-crawling
around free."
"Actually, Leroy, you do not need to travel to Bavaria
to work with Herr von Schwanstein on this Forth AI project.
He will be in touch with you shortly, and you can work
remotely with him."
"Do I have to sign a non-disclosure agreement?"
"A pre-nup maybe, but no NDA is required."
"Why would I have to sign a pre-nuptial agreement?"
"We have picked out a potential mate for you, a kind of
robo-wife. She is not from the factory in Stepford, either.
A manufacturer of humanoid robots is developing a
femme-fatale version to work at trade-shows and wants us
to test the she-bot in real-life human situations.
Would you like to attend a Halloween Party as the human
male escort in charge of a prototype female humanoid?"
"Will there be plenty of food and drink?"
"Food for you, yes, but no drink. You're on the wagon
for the duration."
"The duration of what?"
"The Global Cybernetic Singularity."
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