From: Jim Fehlinger (fehlinger@home.com)
Date: Mon Apr 30 2001 - 00:07:25 MDT
Anders Sandberg wrote:
> J. R. Molloy wrote:
> > Incidentally, I don't see any presenters/speakers addressing the subject of
> > triggering the Net to transcend. How silly is the idea of the Net awakening
> > and thinking for itself?
> It is a bit of wishful thinking: if we create something complex enough it
> will become intelligent. There is not a shred of evidence for that happening,
> since intelligent thought requires a rather sophisticated and deliberate
> organisation, so it is unlikely to occur by chance.
Yes, Edelman says something very similar to this:
"[I]t is probable that there will be severe (but not unique)
constraints on the design of any artifact that is supposed to
acquire conscious behavior. Such constraints are likely to exist
because there is every indication that an intricate, stochastically
variant anatomy and synaptic chemistry underlie brain function and
because consciousness is definitely a process based on an immensely
intricate and unusual morphology"
-- Edelman, _The Remembered Present_ pp. 32-33
The idea that the Internet might someday just "wake up" on its
own reminds me of a scene in the 1953 movie _The 5000 Fingers of
Dr. T_ ( http://a-movie-to-see.com/reviews/5000.php3 ).
Young Bart Collins (played by the late Tommy Rettig, "Jeff" in the
earliest TV version of _Lassie_), oppressed by his piano
teacher Dr. Terwilliker, has an extended dream in which he is
a prisoner of Dr. T's Happy Fingers Institute. Bart and his ally
Mr. Zabladowski (the plumber) come up with the idea of making a sort
of airwick that absorbs sound to spoil Dr. T's 500-boy (5000-finger)
recital (the exact same device appears in an SF short story I once
read called "Silenzia"). Their concoctions don't work
until they get the idea of adding a hearing aid ("sound
equipment") to the mix, at which point Mr. Zabladowski warns
Bart "I never made one of these before, and the stuff that I
put in there, well it's a kind of revolutionary principle.
It might be dangerous. It might even be... **atomic**!...
If it starts smoking, you get away from it fast!"
Later, at the recital, Bart yells out "If you come any closer,
I'll blow you to smithereens!" To which Dr. T responds:
"Is it... is it **atomic**?" "Yes sir, **very** atomic!"
"Take it away! Take it away!".
Watch out for that Internet. It might be... **atomic**!
;->
Jim F.
"Come on and dress me, dress me, dress me
in my finest array,
'cause just in case you hadn't heard
today is do-mi-do day.
Dress me in my silver garters,
dress me in my diamond studs,
'cause I'm going do-mi-doing
in my do-mi-do duds.
I want my undulating undies
with the maribou frills.
I want my beautiful bolero
with the porcupine quills.
I want my purple nylon girdle
with the orange-blossom buds,
'cause I'm going do-mi-doing
in my do-mi-do duds.
Come on and dress me, dress me, dress me
in my peekaboo blouse,
with the lovely interlining
made of Chesapeake mouse.
I want my polka-dotted dickie
with the crinoline fringe,
for I'm going do-mi-doing
on a do-mi-do binge.
I want my lavender spats,
and in addition to them,
I want my honey-colored gusset
with the herringbone hem.
I want my softest little jacket
made of watermelon suede,
and my long persimmon placket
with the platinum braid.
I want my leg-of-mutton sleeves,
and in addition to those,
I want my cutie chamois booties
with the leopard-skin bows.
I want my pink-brocaded bodice
with the fluffy fuzzy ruffs,
and my gorgeous bright-blue bloomers
with the monkey-feather cuffs.
I want my organdy snood,
and in addition to that,
I want my chiffon Mother Hubbard
lined with Hudson Bay rat.
Dress me up from top to bottom,
dress me up from tip to toe.
Dress me up in silken spinach
for today is do-mi-do.
Do-mi-do day!
Do-mi-do day!
So come and dress me in the blossoms
of a million pink trees.
Come on and dress me up in liverwurst
and Camembert cheese.
Come on and dress me up in pretzels,
dress me up in Bach Beer suds,
'Cause he's going
Do-mi-doing
In his do-oh-oh-oh oh-oh-oh
oh-oh-oh-mi-do duds!
-- Dr. T.
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