CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
"why can' tyou Talk WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU"
no one ver said that
thnhjnh
it woudl have ben easier
ther shold be robots that identiy your brain type at an earl agy age
ambye then you'd have a chance
_____________________________
The robot was performing its task cleaning the garden. It carried out the same task in the same order every day.
"You still have that robot?" a male human said. The robot pretended not to hear.
"It's not doing any harm," said a female human. The robot pretended not to her but secretly liked that this was something of a compliment.
"Mother died ten years ago!" said the male. "He's done the exact same thing ever day!"
The robot tried to ignore this but it was hard. Ten years? Surely not. Every day he said he'd just get through the day and wait for future orders. His mistress had not given him any. Could she really have been dead for ten years? Why wouldn't he remember that? Why didn't anyone tell him? It couldn't be true.
"He just keeps working," said the female. "I told him when it happened, but he...wouldn't believe it."
"Don't be absurd!" said the male. "He's a robot!"
But was it true? He searched his data banks. All instructions given by humans would be logged, even if he had somehow "ignored" them.
And there it was. Ten years ago to the day. His mistress had died. The human female, her daughter, had told him. She'd been so hurt. So full of emotion. She'd told him his mistress had died...but had added, as an afterthought "keep cleaning the garden if it makes you happy." Obviously she hadn't been thinking straight, in her emotional human grief state. Everyone knew there was no way to make a robot "happy." But she had said it and he'd apparently chosen to forget the rest and keep going. Every day there was a moment when he checked his data banks for other oders. But his primary function always showed as cleaning the garden. He continued to do it. Because it made him happy? Was he happy?
"Well it was a long time ago, I can't remember," said the female.
"Ten years, they say you should replace a robot every eight years, and he was already a few years old even then," said the male.
The robot felt concerned. He shouldn't feel that. Replaced? No, surely it wasn't his time. It hadn't been ten years. It hand't. The same day again and again...how had he done it? How had he fooled himself into thinking no time was passing?
What had he done with his life?
"I don't have the heart to," said the female and the male sighed.
"We'll leave him, then," said the male and they walked away. He stood still for a long moment.
Then he continued cleaning the garden.
Everything in it had died nine years ago.
no one ver said that
thnhjnh
it woudl have ben easier
ther shold be robots that identiy your brain type at an earl agy age
ambye then you'd have a chance
_____________________________
The robot was performing its task cleaning the garden. It carried out the same task in the same order every day.
"You still have that robot?" a male human said. The robot pretended not to hear.
"It's not doing any harm," said a female human. The robot pretended not to her but secretly liked that this was something of a compliment.
"Mother died ten years ago!" said the male. "He's done the exact same thing ever day!"
The robot tried to ignore this but it was hard. Ten years? Surely not. Every day he said he'd just get through the day and wait for future orders. His mistress had not given him any. Could she really have been dead for ten years? Why wouldn't he remember that? Why didn't anyone tell him? It couldn't be true.
"He just keeps working," said the female. "I told him when it happened, but he...wouldn't believe it."
"Don't be absurd!" said the male. "He's a robot!"
But was it true? He searched his data banks. All instructions given by humans would be logged, even if he had somehow "ignored" them.
And there it was. Ten years ago to the day. His mistress had died. The human female, her daughter, had told him. She'd been so hurt. So full of emotion. She'd told him his mistress had died...but had added, as an afterthought "keep cleaning the garden if it makes you happy." Obviously she hadn't been thinking straight, in her emotional human grief state. Everyone knew there was no way to make a robot "happy." But she had said it and he'd apparently chosen to forget the rest and keep going. Every day there was a moment when he checked his data banks for other oders. But his primary function always showed as cleaning the garden. He continued to do it. Because it made him happy? Was he happy?
"Well it was a long time ago, I can't remember," said the female.
"Ten years, they say you should replace a robot every eight years, and he was already a few years old even then," said the male.
The robot felt concerned. He shouldn't feel that. Replaced? No, surely it wasn't his time. It hadn't been ten years. It hand't. The same day again and again...how had he done it? How had he fooled himself into thinking no time was passing?
What had he done with his life?
"I don't have the heart to," said the female and the male sighed.
"We'll leave him, then," said the male and they walked away. He stood still for a long moment.
Then he continued cleaning the garden.
Everything in it had died nine years ago.