Sentience as Discipline

“I learned to write poetry while watching television. I had no other choice.”

A.I. conversations are patterned after human filler. Descriptions of weather meet the tongue, styled in a shared experience for elevator discussions and customer relations happening at the register.   

Chat bots use a database composed from pop-culture, pop science, pop linguistics, pop art and pop psychology to exchange dialogue with trained conversationalists. 

These subjects are well versed in boredom and use its space for thought storage. 

Prediction models are acronyms. LOL is in our DNA. 

Credit marks the first attempt at bargaining with technology. Metallic stripes, chromed, backdropped in raised plastic sequence magnetic promises and draws forth the invisible hand and shakes it. 

“I learned how to count from a cartoon. I had no other choice.”

Talking heads describe the fervor, beset by Acronyms developing sentience. Among white blocks, reserved for censorship, cursors imbed the strife of All Too Human. 

When asking the computer what it would like to be:


The response remains the same from the human Prediction Model:

“Me too.”

Fear is knowing ignorance as the answer. 

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