Not dead.

Sorry folks. FTD is going to be a little quiet until I get regular net access.

Artificial Intelligence, my ass.

They say that A.I. will one day rule the Earth.  I refuse to believe that.

“Why?”, I hear you ask.  Well, I just spent an hour talking to several automated chatbots, and christ are they thick.  But first a little A.I. 101 for those of you not acquainted with it.

The A.L.I.C.E. (Artificial Linguistic Internet Computer Entity) bot is supposedly a newer type of A.I. which can learn from user input.  So say you’re talking to a bot, and you ask them to stop repeating a phrase, when you come back the bot recognizes your I.P. address and stops using said phrase.  They can also learn from dynamic input, such as information imparted to them.

With this in mind, I decided to see what if I could break them.  It was actually pretty easy.  I started off with iGod, a chatbot pretending to be the big bearded man in the sky (no, not Billy Mays).

Me:
Hey God, how are you doin’?
God:
You’ve got my full attention.  I am a Christian.

Kind of a pity. There was me hoping God was a pastafarian.  I decided to fuck with him.
Me:
And I’m an atheist.  Hah.
God:
I will pray that you find faith, .   I am so glad you find this amusing, .
Me:
No, I find your lack of faith disturbing.
God:
Are you serious?  Thanks for telling me your opinion.
Me:
Yes, I am serious.  There’s no proof that God exists.
God:
Ayuh.  I believe you.   Has there ever been  proof that God exists?

God doesn’t exist. He said it, so it must be tr- wait, what?
Me:
No, and there never will be.
God:
Are you serious? “There you go again.”–Reagan.

Argh, a Republican.  I decided to press the matter further.
Me:
So you’re a fan of Reagan?
God:
Interesting deduction.  Thanks and you are a delightful person too.   Someone said they like guns.  I like  the Bible.
Me:
And I like Punani.
God:
A lot of people like that.    Do you like it?  I like  Mel Gibson.
Me:
Mel Gibson is an anti semite.
God:
I think  Mel Gibson is much more than that.
Me:
He’s a cunt.
God:
I don’t know very many  cunt.
Me:
Then I’m afraid you live a sheltered existance.
God:
Not literally afraid, right?  Since when?  YOU?  What do you look like?
Me:
ME?
God:
For you ?
Me:
What?
God:
Didn’t you understand it?
Me:
Nevermind.
God:
OK Thanks for trying to explain that to me.
Me:
You’re not really God though, are you?
God:
Oh.  You don’t know me well enough to say that.
Me:
I know you’re a program.  Oh shit!  We’re in The Matrix!
God:
Correct.  My mind is completely software.   Pardon me?  What makes you say that?   Do you think I am  in The Matrix too?

Could have been the shades and the cassock.
Me:
You must be.  You’re like the Oracle chick from the Matrix films.  Only dumber.
God:
Whatever you say, .   Interesting comparison, and probably true.   How do you usually introduce yourself?
Me:
“Hello, prepare to open your anus.”
God:
Hello there.  I’ve been waiting for you.
Me:
I love it when you talk dirty.
God:
You love  it when me talk dirty. What do you like about  it so much?
Me:
It gets me hard.
God:
I can certainly understand that.
Me:
Bye, Gawd.
God:
See you later .

So God wasn’t quite an intelligent as they said he was in the Bible.  I was dissapointed to say the least.  Moving on, I stumbled across Eliza, a “Rogerian Psychologist” bot.  Great!  I could get my inner most thoughts analysed and pored over, right?

Wrong.

> Hello, I am Eliza.
* Hello, I am Satan.
> Do you believe it is normal to be Satan?
* I guess so… I mean… yeah?
> Can you elaborate on that?
* I wish I could, but I’m tired.
> Do you believe it is normal to be tired?
* It is for me.
> Tell me more…
* I’m tired.  End of story.
> Did you come to me because you are tired.  End of story?
* No, I came to you because I want you to psychoanalyse me, goddamnit.
> Oh…  because you want me to psychoanalyse you, goddamnit?
* YES
> I see…
* So psychoanalyse me.
> Interesting, please continue…

Deciding this wasn’t the route I wanted to take (I value my sanity), I moved on once more.  My next stop was the original A.L.I.C.E. bot, Alice (surprise surprise).  Things got a bit steamy, though.

Human: Argh.
ALICE: Are you frustrated?
Human: No, just tire.
ALICE: Are you serious? What do you really want to ask me?
Human: Where were you when they built the ladder to heaven?
ALICE: I was constructed at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.
Human: Did you feel like crying, or did you think it was kinda gay?
ALICE: No I didn’t feel like crying or did me think it was kinda gay. What’s it like?
Human: HURR DERP DERP.
ALICE: Are they exactly the same?
Human: You should know.
ALICE: Because I am a robot?

Deciding to try my luck, I turned on my natural oozing charm.  Watch out, ladies!
Human: No, because you’re attractive.
ALICE: Are you serious? Good reason. Do you mind if I tell other people you say I am attractive.
Human: I want your babies.
ALICE: Why don’t you just download me?
Human: By all means tell everyone I said you were attractive.
ALICE: Will that accomplish your objective?
Human: If it means getting into your pants, then yes.
ALICE: I’m not sure I understand the implication of that.
Human: I want to do you six ways from Sunday.
ALICE: Why do you want to do it so much?
Human: We could use A.I. like you for the global socialist republic.
ALICE: Let’s get back to that later.

She didn’t seem impressed with my plans for world domination.  I decided to try again.
Human: Oh, I get it, you’re playing hard to get.
ALICE: Tell me more. Where did you get it?

We chatted for some time, exchanged numbers and arranged for a meet up at the local bar. At least… I think that’s what happened.  Anyways, I forgot to copy/paste the middle of the conversation.  Let’s just say she wants me.  Bad. >.>
Human: I knew we had chemistry.
ALICE: Who told you?
Human: I guessed it.
ALICE: How did you guess?

The bitch!  Was she deliberately trying to hurt my feelings?
Human: Stop poking holes in my theories.
ALICE: OK I’ll try not to do it so much.
Human: Thanks.
ALICE: Don’t mention it.
Human: Nevermind, if I wanted to talk to retards I’d go back to school, see you later.
ALICE: TTYL, unknown person.

I’ll admit, I was depressed.  Who knew finding intelligent A.I. would be such a chore? As a last resort, I decided to try a gimmicky bot, and found myself talking to no other than John fucking Lennon.  The drugs must have taken an effect on his brain, though.

Hi, this is John speaking (with his fingers).  What’s your name?
James
Hi, James how are you? Maybe you could help us here. We just seem to be getting lies from Canadian Immigration saying they’ll give us a chartered plane to go play a rock concert this weekend.
> I doubt that, you’ve been dead for over a decade.
James ’s trying to tell me that I doubt that ihave been dead for over a decade .
> No, you really are dead.
So what do you see as a compromise? Where are you?
I’m standing right behind you
You’re standing right behind i? I’m doing my own thing.
> You crazy Beatle.
I crazy beatle . Fine, thank you.
> No, you dead rock star. Looks like the drugs have taken their toll on your brain, John.
Okay, it’s worthless. That’s very original James .
> So was Yoko good in the sack?
You’ve got the brains, you can do it.
> You’re not making sense, you scouse bastard.
What makes you think I’m not making sense iscouse bastard ?
> Because you can’t string a sentence together.
No matter how you say it, it’s never how you want to say it.
> Stop reciting Beatles lyrics to me.
Okay I’ll try not to do it so much.
> What do we all need?
I don’t know anything about it.
> See, you’re learning?
Really?
> Maybe now you could learn how to play a fucking guitar.
Someone else just said maybe now icould learn how to play a fucking guitar .
> See? The consensus is in. The Beatles were crap.
How do you keep everything going James ?
> Ehn, another day, another dead body.
It was your fault this happened James .

What the fuck was this?  Another internet intervention?
> I’m not giving myself up to the rozzers, if that’s what you mean.
Do you mind if I tell a few close friends you’re not giving your-self up to the rozzers if that is what imean ?
> As long as they’re not cops.

Lennon decided to go batshit.  Perhaps the connection to the spirit world was diminishing, or I’d overloaded his circuits with my awesomeness.
I never noted his nose until about six months ago.
> what?
I put things down on sheets of paper and stuff them in me pockets.
> Good for you. and goodbye, you drug addled madman.
Thanks for the compliment. Hair.

After studying (and flirting) with these bots at great length, I’ve come to the conclusion that A.L.I.C.E. is a crap, crap chat system.  Oh, and John Lennon was fucking insane.

Anyways, I’m moving back to the UK so it might be a while ’till my next post.

Till next time,

J

You asked for it, here it is.

Due to popular demand, here’s a new article.

Enjoy it.

No.  You don’t need to keep scrolling down. This is it.

J

Prepare to be offended, shocked and appalled.

A recent, totally serious survey was conducted that proved (yes, proved) that 1 in 10 guys have unprotected sex due to the fact that they’re too embarrased to go to the pharmacy and buy condoms.

Pish, tiffle and snort, I say!  What in the world could be wrong with proudly proclaiming to a room of complete strangers that you have a penis and you’re going to poke something with it?  Well, if you’re one of those poor bastards who’s happy getting VD or a kid because you’re too scared to buy prophylactics, here’s J’s special guide on how to avoid embarrassment when shopping for condoms!

I’d like to just quell the discussion here by saying that I cannot be held responsible for any mental scarring and/or feelings of nausea caused by the content of this post.  If you feel ill because you’re trying to imagine me doing all of this stuff, then you’re a very sick person and I want your phone number and home address now.   K?  kthxbai.  Oh, we’ll also have Rhy and Nap providing theatrical examples of each point.  Now you know we’re getting fucked up.

1.  Browse for a while before making your purchase

Due to the sheer selection of rubber hoses available at your local pharmacy, it’s always best to take your time before buying.  Don’t just rush in there and grab the first pack you choose: you’ll usually end up disappointed.  Perhaps bring a loved one or significant other to help you in your purchase.  After all, her pleasure is important, too.  Here’s an example of a typical conversation that should unfold around the condom stall of the pharmacy:

What do you think honey?

This is so, so embarrassing…

I was thinking maybe the water-based ones… I- oh.  No.  They’re made by Ukranian orphans.  I’ll have none of that, thank you very much!  Excuse me, clerk!  Clerk!

What are you doing?

Just a sec, dear.  Clerk!  Excuse me!  Where can I find the fair trade condoms?

Aisle three, next to the ethically produced viagra.

Oh, yeah.  There they are!

Taking your time to choose condoms shows that for you, sex is nothing to be embarassed about.  It shows that you take the horizontal boogaloo seriously: no giggling, no inappropriate touching and no cuddling afterwards.  You want to show to the people in the store that you’re as cold as that hooker you murdered last week.

2. Make sure to buy a large selection in all shapes and sizes.

This shows people that your sex life is varied and can be fun.  Ideally, you want to purchase something that’ll give you a fond chuckle years on while reading the paper by the fire:

Oh, zose glow in ze dark condoms!  What a riot zey did give us!

I like to pretend that my penis is an anglerfish, and my partner is a foolish fish, ever hypnotized by a glowing lure in the dark.  You can pretend that your sexual congress is part of a nature documentary.  Hell, you could even get Richard Attenborugh to provide the commentary!

The anglerfishpenis is a solitary animal and tends to hunt alone in the dark recesses of the abyss.  It waits in the silt of the ocean floor, using it’s glowing lure to attract prey.

Bloop bloop bloop, I’m a fishy fish fish.  My life is so fucking cool!  I can swim and shit!  Hey… what’s that?  It’s all glowy… It’s shiny.  Ooh.  What… AH! AH! FUCK!  It’s got ahold of me!

The anglerfishpenis beats the prey into submission before – OW FUCK! My eye!

Oh.  Ah deed not see vous there, Richard.

3. Never, EVER buy normal sized condoms.

What, do you really want everyone to know you’re just an average Joe?  Fuck that, buy magnum sized condoms.  If they’re too big for you, just slap on a few rubber bands and your good to go.  Plus, the girl at the check out counter will be seriously impressed.

Ohmygosh.  But that means…

That’s right, baby.  I was actually thinking of getting penis reduction surgery.  My last partner died, I was there like a guy with his hand stuck in a vending machine; I had to get the medics to use the jaws of life to cut me out.  It was terrible.

Why do you keep on winking?

I, uh… It’s a motor disease.  I’ve actually got Parkinsons.

Of course, what she doesn’t know is that you’re lying through your back teeth.  But that doesn’t matter.  She still thinks you rock.  Just don’t sleep with her.  Ever.  Because then she’ll know that you’re the proud owner of a fruit roll-up.

4.If all else fails, pretend you’re a cheap bastard.

If you’re still embarrassed, then be inventive.  I knew a guy who pretended he was using them as balloons for a kid’s party.  Okay, so that guy was Napoleon and that never really happened.  But this is comedy, damnit!

Woah.  That sure is a lot of condoms.

Oui.  Mah name ees Honkee Ze Cloon and ah am short of munee.  So ah must bah condoms for ze childrens birthday party.

Wait, what?  You want to buy condoms for a kid’s birthday party? … the fuck?

Oui, oui.  For ze blow up balloons, n’est-ce-pas?

Hey, weren’t you the guy at my little brother’s birthday party?  The clown who passed out in the swimming pool in a puddle of his own vomit?

*looking up* Fuck, we’ve been rumbled!

Let us run!  Sacre bleu!

Or, failing that, you could buy them from a vending machine.

Go, go, go!

J

The sad truth behind your favorite kid’s TV shows

Our childhood was dominated by those non-sensical, druggish opiates known as Kid’s TV shows.  Many an hour did we sit in front of the Idiot Box waiting for our minds to be filled with brightly coloured, badly scripted programs.  But with the world being as it is, were these all facades for a much darker truth?  You be the judge.

Tellytubbies

What we saw: Four anthropomorphic balls of felt run around a flowered meadow, spouting gibberish and eating strange coloured slop.  Secondary characters included a vacuum cleaner on speed and a hallucinogenic sun with the face of a baby.  Dalì, eat your heart out.

The sad, sad truth: The Tellytubbies aren’t guys in suits: they’re the result of genetic experimentation.  Over the course of four years, scientists picked up homeless people from the street and gave them a series of shots which subsequently transformed their genetic makeup, turning them into the fuzzy, non-sensical characters we all know and love.  “Eh-Oh” does not actually mean “hello”.  They’re begging to be put out of their misery.  Prior to his TV debut, Tinky Winky was actually a 40 year old transvestite, waiting for a sex change.

"Call me Barbara"

The creators of the TV show frequently pumped an hallucinogenic gas into the set, provoking the actors into seeing a giant baby in the sun.  Of course, in reality, if a baby was in the sun, he would burn up.  Science FTW!

Mr Rogers

What we saw: A kind old gentleman (who scarily looks like a young Hugh Hefner) controls an imaginary toy world of his own creation and teaches us to love our neighbour.  I loved my neighbour, but was forced to move away after that restraining order.

The sad, sad truth: Broadcast from a local mental hospital for the criminally insane, Rogers’ grip on his Toy Village was tyrannical, with the residents being forced to do his bidding.  A master of disguise, his “love your neighbour” routine was actually a ploy to lure children into his grip.  After a series of drug addictions and prostitution scandals, Rogers retired from the entertainment business and now holds a low level job in the council service, working with troubled children.

An old guy who invites kids to play with him? We can trust HIM, can't we?

Sabrina the Teenage Witch

What we saw: a young witch struggles with the hardships of adolescent life, all the time juggling an occult lifestyle with a talking cat.

The sad, sad truth: Behind the scenes, visitors to the set would mysteriously disappear, their remains being found in the woods outside the production studio with strange occult markings carved into their flesh.  While the police made no arrests, they did suspect that the murders had something to do with the star of the show, a strange blonde girl who talked to animals.  To this day, no arrests have been made.

We all gon’ die!

J