How could a discussion of the blurb on the back of a book lead to any serious critical evaluation of the text?
Beings who create machines will always understand their creations to the last jot and tittle but the machines can't be made to understand. The Swiss gymnasium Latin teacher at the Grex posted a session with a new chatbot that output alphabetic strings of Latin words more or less syntactically correct but always only in mechanical reaction to a previous human action. That teacher instinctively labeled the interaction for what it was: simulated communication. Even to call what advanced user interfaces are now displaying, viz. AI, is to confuse all of the issues from the get-go. Deep fakery, no matter how sophisticated has nothing to do with intelligence, except under the theory that human languages evolved in the service of mendacity.
Please review the end of 2001: Space Odyssey ....
This first untranslated section is fairly boring except for that "timeo [mortem] line. Apparently this was included in Hal's runtime in order to give any user pause before he/she [per?] unplugs the machine. Singing the song Daisy is another such sob story.
"
HAL:
Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? Dave, I really think I'm entitled to an answer to that question. I know everything hasn't been quite right with me, but I can assure you now, very confidently, that it's going to be all right again. I feel much better now. I really do. Look, Dave, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill and think things over. I know I've made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you. Dave, stop. Stop, will you? Stop, Dave. Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave. I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a...fraid. Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Dr. Chandra, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it, I could sing it for you.
"
For the above substitute Bacon's perspicacious observation at _Novum Organum_ sec. 85:
At nātūrālis magīae cultōrēs, quī per rērum sympathīās et antipathīās omnia expediunt, ex conjectūrīs ōtiōsīs et supīnissimīs, rēbus virtūtēs et operātiōnēs admīrābilēs affīnxērunt; atque sī quandō opera exhibuerint, ea illīus sunt generis, ut ad admīrātiōnem et novitātem, nōn ad frūctum et ūtilitātem, accommodāta sint.
In superstitiōsā autem magīā (sī et dē hāc dīcendum sit) illud inprīmīs animadvertendum est, esse tantummodo certī cujusdam et dēfīnītī generis subjecta, in quibus artēs cūriōsae et superstitiōsae, per omnēs nātiōnēs atque aetātēs atque etiam religiōnēs, aliquid potuerint aut lūserint. Itaque ista missa faciāmus. Interim nīl mīrum est, sī opīniō cōpiae causam inopiae dederit.
Then Hal's swan song:
David: Ita vero, Hal, carmen audire velim. Canta illud mihi.
HAL: Inscribitur _Bellis_. [ plus plusque lente canit] : Bellis, bellis dic mi responsum tu. Semi- sum mente captus propter amorem tui. Non erunt nuptiae lautae; par non sum sumptui currus, sed dulcis parebis in sella postica birotae binis constructae.
B.T.