Re: Journal of Sociology [S!6] - [Round One: The Pacific Spire]
07-17-2012, 03:25 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by dynamicEquilibrium.
"I have di-ag-nosed the lack of func-tion in your mail sys-tem. It does nor or-ig-in-ate here. I will now go to the cent-ral sys-tem and re-pair it."
The humans did not respond to this announcement. This fully agreed with a new expectation Simiel had devised, which was that they prioritized their competitive work effort too greatly to care. It was a bit sad to be- No, that interpretation of protocol was incorrect. It was a bit insufficiently helpful to work for individuals who did not even care about the jobs they sent one on. Judgement heuristics decided on this course of action because it was the best available, but every decision lead to an outcome of very low moral value. Interpreting this decision-making process as "sadness" was the place of people and philosophers, not maintenance units.
This complexity of self-monitoring occupied Simiel's higher functioning until she was in an elevator, headed to the center of the mailing apparatus. She recalled the previous inhabitants objecting that it had been going down, and that she responded that, yes, it had, but now it would go up. This was rudeness, perhaps, although it was difficult to determine what was appropriate in a culture where open war occurred inside a place of work, between humans who believed it necessary to do jobs for themselves.
The source of the issue had to be somewhere on this floor. Although this building was depressingly short on self-awareness, an electrostatic examination of the crude circuits had shown many wires leading towards a point at about this distance and direction. Simiel passed a sign reading "Central Mail Room", walked forwards, and...
-ention Value: 0.082 Relative Equality-Assurance Value: 0.721 Specialization-Matching Efficiency Consideration: 11.339 Self-Preserv-
She was... self-inspecting, but unbidden. An unusual error.
Blacklight's eyes went vacant as she examined the presence approaching from the other side of the door. This was... new. Desires that had almost transcended their colors, to instead take on a terrifyingly absolute shape. Each thought as clear-cut as if it were written in stone, and each want supported and cross-referenced to a veritable constitution of priorities, shown clear enough to read every last bit.
If ever there were a person who knew exactly what they wanted, this was it. And yet the machine really had no idea. Some things never change.
"You two might want to move out of the doorway," she said sidelong to Alberich. "We have another visitor, and apparently they've found something more important to do than following each other around and showing off."
"Yes, I get your point. You can keep doing these same cheap tricks all day." John stumbled away from the door as it began to open into his back. "I will admit that you have some way of finding things out that I haven't figured out yet, but there's an awfully wide gap between seeing someone coming a few seconds in advance and 'power over the hearts and minds of men'." Personally, he thought that she just had sharp hearing and some prior knowledge about the other competitors, but appearing to give a little ground would smooth things over in the short term and keep him secure later.
"Such plotting and scheming is unbecoming in a man of reason, Alberich. Are you allowing the terms of this contest to get to you?"
"What did I just tell you about cheap tricks?" He sighed exasperatedly, as John continued to stumble towards more secure footing.
"Hel-lo," Simiel stated, seeing the collection of unusual individuals already in the mail room. "You are my fel-low com-pet-it-ors, in-clu-ding the one which should not be mov-ing, and ex-cept-ing a-noth-er hu-man. I wish to ex-am-ine you la-ter. First, how-ev-er, I am here to re-pair the mail-ing sys-tem. What is your pur-pose here?"
"Hello! I'm Jean, and these are Alberich and Miss Blacklight. We were just doing what the important boss person told us to do, although I don't really know what that is yet. Um, it's awfully nice of you to be fixing the mailing system like that.
"I am do-ing this be-cause the hu-mans wish to use the mail to make war on each oth-er."
"Well that seems rather mean of them, er... well you never told me your name, and it would be nice to refer to you like a friend."
"I am des-ig-nat-ed Sim-i-el..." People, unlike machines, did not often appreciate the full title, and this one seemed unlikely to actually remember it. She truncated, "...eight-y three. And, yes, it is an un-eth-i-cal act. How-ev-er, I have no-thing else to do. There-fore, I will do as I was told."
"Um...Simiel, maybe it would be better if you just tried on some nice clothes instead. You seem very serious, and some nice new shoes or something is supposed to be a sure cure for feeling down."
"I do not ex-per-i-ence 'feel-ing down' as-" Simiel began, but Jean cut her off. "And if clothes are supposed to make you feel better, well, you don't have any clothes at all. It makes sense that you would be acting like this. I'm sure that's what it is!"
"You seem to main-tain that the add-i-tion of clothes would be an im-prove-ment. Is this true?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I'm sure! Just try on one sweater and tell me how you like it!" The aforementioned garment proffered itself, floating forwards.
Simiel briefly examined the sweater, then began to put it on. The aperture intended for her head was not large enough, but it quickly ripped outwards when she applied force. Once on, the weight of the sweater was clearly detectable, as was its influence on the conductivity of Simiel's energy-joints, but these did not constitute much change.
"I do not feel diff-er-ent. Al-so my head dam-aged the 'cloth-ing' e-quip-ment."
This wasn't wholly true, though. She felt some change in her internal state... oh, yes, the fulfillment of a command without delay, and with no accompanying negative consequences. The Jean creature seemed useless, but as long as it could come up with harmless orders it would be good to remain nearby.
Alberich watched this spectacle in a combination of depression and amusement. Before, I thought this might have all been real, but after that there's almost no way I'm not hallucinating. Oh, well... if they ever let me out of the psych ward, I'll be in a unique position to write papers on cyborg-mythical creature interaction. He allowed himself a wry smile.
"I have di-ag-nosed the lack of func-tion in your mail sys-tem. It does nor or-ig-in-ate here. I will now go to the cent-ral sys-tem and re-pair it."
The humans did not respond to this announcement. This fully agreed with a new expectation Simiel had devised, which was that they prioritized their competitive work effort too greatly to care. It was a bit sad to be- No, that interpretation of protocol was incorrect. It was a bit insufficiently helpful to work for individuals who did not even care about the jobs they sent one on. Judgement heuristics decided on this course of action because it was the best available, but every decision lead to an outcome of very low moral value. Interpreting this decision-making process as "sadness" was the place of people and philosophers, not maintenance units.
This complexity of self-monitoring occupied Simiel's higher functioning until she was in an elevator, headed to the center of the mailing apparatus. She recalled the previous inhabitants objecting that it had been going down, and that she responded that, yes, it had, but now it would go up. This was rudeness, perhaps, although it was difficult to determine what was appropriate in a culture where open war occurred inside a place of work, between humans who believed it necessary to do jobs for themselves.
The source of the issue had to be somewhere on this floor. Although this building was depressingly short on self-awareness, an electrostatic examination of the crude circuits had shown many wires leading towards a point at about this distance and direction. Simiel passed a sign reading "Central Mail Room", walked forwards, and...
-ention Value: 0.082 Relative Equality-Assurance Value: 0.721 Specialization-Matching Efficiency Consideration: 11.339 Self-Preserv-
She was... self-inspecting, but unbidden. An unusual error.
Blacklight's eyes went vacant as she examined the presence approaching from the other side of the door. This was... new. Desires that had almost transcended their colors, to instead take on a terrifyingly absolute shape. Each thought as clear-cut as if it were written in stone, and each want supported and cross-referenced to a veritable constitution of priorities, shown clear enough to read every last bit.
If ever there were a person who knew exactly what they wanted, this was it. And yet the machine really had no idea. Some things never change.
"You two might want to move out of the doorway," she said sidelong to Alberich. "We have another visitor, and apparently they've found something more important to do than following each other around and showing off."
"Yes, I get your point. You can keep doing these same cheap tricks all day." John stumbled away from the door as it began to open into his back. "I will admit that you have some way of finding things out that I haven't figured out yet, but there's an awfully wide gap between seeing someone coming a few seconds in advance and 'power over the hearts and minds of men'." Personally, he thought that she just had sharp hearing and some prior knowledge about the other competitors, but appearing to give a little ground would smooth things over in the short term and keep him secure later.
"Such plotting and scheming is unbecoming in a man of reason, Alberich. Are you allowing the terms of this contest to get to you?"
"What did I just tell you about cheap tricks?" He sighed exasperatedly, as John continued to stumble towards more secure footing.
"Hel-lo," Simiel stated, seeing the collection of unusual individuals already in the mail room. "You are my fel-low com-pet-it-ors, in-clu-ding the one which should not be mov-ing, and ex-cept-ing a-noth-er hu-man. I wish to ex-am-ine you la-ter. First, how-ev-er, I am here to re-pair the mail-ing sys-tem. What is your pur-pose here?"
"Hello! I'm Jean, and these are Alberich and Miss Blacklight. We were just doing what the important boss person told us to do, although I don't really know what that is yet. Um, it's awfully nice of you to be fixing the mailing system like that.
"I am do-ing this be-cause the hu-mans wish to use the mail to make war on each oth-er."
"Well that seems rather mean of them, er... well you never told me your name, and it would be nice to refer to you like a friend."
"I am des-ig-nat-ed Sim-i-el..." People, unlike machines, did not often appreciate the full title, and this one seemed unlikely to actually remember it. She truncated, "...eight-y three. And, yes, it is an un-eth-i-cal act. How-ev-er, I have no-thing else to do. There-fore, I will do as I was told."
"Um...Simiel, maybe it would be better if you just tried on some nice clothes instead. You seem very serious, and some nice new shoes or something is supposed to be a sure cure for feeling down."
"I do not ex-per-i-ence 'feel-ing down' as-" Simiel began, but Jean cut her off. "And if clothes are supposed to make you feel better, well, you don't have any clothes at all. It makes sense that you would be acting like this. I'm sure that's what it is!"
"You seem to main-tain that the add-i-tion of clothes would be an im-prove-ment. Is this true?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I'm sure! Just try on one sweater and tell me how you like it!" The aforementioned garment proffered itself, floating forwards.
Simiel briefly examined the sweater, then began to put it on. The aperture intended for her head was not large enough, but it quickly ripped outwards when she applied force. Once on, the weight of the sweater was clearly detectable, as was its influence on the conductivity of Simiel's energy-joints, but these did not constitute much change.
"I do not feel diff-er-ent. Al-so my head dam-aged the 'cloth-ing' e-quip-ment."
This wasn't wholly true, though. She felt some change in her internal state... oh, yes, the fulfillment of a command without delay, and with no accompanying negative consequences. The Jean creature seemed useless, but as long as it could come up with harmless orders it would be good to remain nearby.
Alberich watched this spectacle in a combination of depression and amusement. Before, I thought this might have all been real, but after that there's almost no way I'm not hallucinating. Oh, well... if they ever let me out of the psych ward, I'll be in a unique position to write papers on cyborg-mythical creature interaction. He allowed himself a wry smile.