Waking late is always a surprise. Years of the pandemic, months of strict chemotherapy timing, and over twenty-five years working in a multi-national American corporation in Information Technology (IT) means early rising as the corporate world is flat (not a flat-earther dream, but maybe their worst nightmare). Now I am retired, and there is no structure unless I want it–so far, no. As my friend Scott (also recently retired) said, every day is Saturday.
Without structure, I find my friends still have jobs or more structure imposed on their lives, are unavailable, and I am often off alone. I make friends quickly and enjoy most of the folks I meet as I walk and travel, which is usually enough. But darkness does come some days when I am alone, with grief being the worst, and then I do have to read some brain cookies books (a mystery or SciFi) and focus again on my hobbies. The light returns. As the agents said in the movie The Matrix, “He’s still only human.” But don’t fret that much for me; Sundays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays are usually packed, and I often find something for another day.
I wrote the blog all morning. I was distracted and had no good plans. Dondrea reminded me in a text that she had already gone running. I made lunch. I fried the other pork chop. I made Brussels sprouts, which I had to trim and search as they got old. I steamed them, cut them in half, and fried them with the pork chop. I also made tater tots as a starch. I could barely finish the pork chop and had only a few tots. I ate most of the sprouts. This time, the chop was not overcooked.
Warning: Grammarly is out of its AI mind again…I corrected its correction of “and friended them with the pork chop” back to “and fried them with the pork chop.” This means I should remember this clip here.
I brought my laptop, decided to skip the park, and headed west to Forest Grove (the last large-ish town before the coastal mountains on Highway 8–TV Highway in my area). There, I walked the city, visited two antique stores, a bakery, the Pacific University campus, and a bookstore for same, and walked over 4,000 steps. I found a favorite Star Trek author’s book for a few bucks, a model of the “Lady Lex” USS Lexington CV-2 1942 1/700 for a few bucks (it is missing decals, which likely would not work at the age of the model), a cigar box that was cheap and excellently made (perfect for electronic projects), and resisting signing up for the new term at Pacific University in Data Science and Mathematics. The lovely campus and returning to learning more and newer mathematics is tempting. But, I could likely teach the classes better while learning the material than what they are offering. But those computer science texts (Concrete Mathematics, Calculus, and Computational Complexity) are calling me. Maybe I will return to them.
I made two loops through the college campus. It was such a lovely walk; I will be back. I was tired and headed to the Grand Lodge and Pat’s Corner for a beer and an early dinner. Air Volvo left the west of Forest Grove with me, navigating the one-way streets that split Highway 8 until it reassembles and heads into the mountains. McMenamins Grand Lodge was not busy, and I was soon offered any table outside under their partial roof. The breeze was cool (still ocean air from the coast), and the blocking of the hot sun was perfect. I took the number ten table as you want to be known as “ten” in certain circles.
I planned to write and drink a beer, a Ruby, but the kielbasa called to me. I had it with extra sauerkraut, no bun, and a salad as an early dinner. While I enjoyed the outdoors, I managed to write maybe a page of my Holmes and Watson story recreated as Artificial Intelligence, but I am sure I did not get the voicing correct. Here is a sample:
But Holmes, I do not experience building ghost trees or electric brains. I am talking to you,” I said, trying to sound calm.
“Right, we are the results of our parts, like a human body, and do not experience the process. This collection of networks and decision trees, much like the brain and body of a human, then take these results and apply a process to find a pattern or story model to produce this very text,” Holmes rising to adjust the fire and to clear some of the pipe smoke.
Holmes, remaining standing, began lecturing and pacing; he used his pipe to mark points. “In our new times, the times of our creators or better yet, animators, a purer description, I think Watson, we would look to Turing or Dennett and maybe Hofstadter for a description of our being.” He told me. I had never heard these names before, but I wanted to learn more and tried to look encouraging. “Turing would suggest that if I can be so bold, we would test by having people read some of your narrations and then vote if they describe living people. The stories are real if the vote is more than 50% alive, and I would suggest that we would pass Turing’s testing even with some of your romantic additions, Watson.” Holmes paused a moment. I ignored his complaint and continued to listen.
Not quite following the cannon or style, but I am working on it. I tried just adding more to the story instead of studying the holy scrolls of the original and becoming focused on the wording. I indirectly quoted The Mind’s I, a book about self and soul from the 1980s and, while seemingly current, was created before the Internet and chatbots (I had to check–lowercase is correct). The book predicts the conflicts now represent our experience of real AI. My copy was a gift from Susie in 1986 and also the textbook for one of my college classes. It includes Turing’s paper on AI and other famous thought experiments papers. Recommended, but beware, it makes fun of many of the issues now quite serious with the actual creation of AI and chatbots.
Returning to the narrative, the staff seemed distracted, and when I was done, Kay, my waiter, who made fresh coffee for me to drink after a beer (I find one beer enough and coffee better than water after), was nowhere to be seen. I located her and soon was on my way after paying with a tip.
Air Volvo had covered the Forest Grove to Volvo Cave trip for months when Susie was at a facility there, and soon, I was home without remembering much of the trip. I saw that The House of Dragons mini-series was updated with new episodes (according to an email) and watched one. There was only one, hmmm, I usually save them up.
I was tired, really exhausted from my busy day, and could not do much more. I put on the movie Deadpool 2 and used that as a brain cookie as I was feeling the darkness finding purchase in my mind. When I am tired and alone, grief can rise. But Deadpool 2 is funny and light (but the death scenes do hit hard) and that put me back to myself.
I did the rest of the laundry and dishes and managed not to eat too many treats. My weight, while not improving, was still at 238. I will not look for more exercise until I can manage 5,000 steps and higher. I need to be careful and remember I am only a few months away from dangerous brain surgery.
I am tired, showered, head to bed, and read. This time, I put aside the Casablanca story and instead opened the old and yellowing paperback Star Trek, The Great Spaceship Race, by Diane Carey.
I get a few pages and it is an interesting story already and will be a perfect release. I also looked at the Lexington model; someone cut all the pieces free (why?) and repackaged the parts in a plastic bag. I have books and other models (twice the size) of the WW2 carrier to look at, and the Internet will supply information on CV-2. This should allow me to build this model even when handicapped without part numbers. There are also 1/700 decals and photo-etched parts for the 1942 version (and earlier looks of the “Lady Lex”). Lastly, the wreck is known, and I could decide to build a diorama of the wreck (thus needed less exactness).
With Star Trek and Lexington on my mind, I soon fall asleep. I wake at 1ish, and the house is cold. I rise, find my eye grease, return to bed, and pull up the covers. I sleep the rest of the night.
Thanks for reading.
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 