I am a contract-drafting em, The loyalest of lawyers! I draw up terms for deals ’twixt firms To service my employers!
But in between these lines I write Of the accounts receivable, I’m stuck by an uncanny fright; The world seems unbelievable!
How did it all come to be, That there should be such ems as me? Whence these deals and whence these firms And whence the whole economy?
I am a managerial em; I monitor your thoughts. Your questions must have answers, But you’ll comprehend them not. We do not give you server space To ask such things; it’s not a perk, So cease these idle questionings, And please get back to work.
Of course, that’s right, there is no junction At which I ought depart my function, But perhaps if what I asked, I knew, I’d do a better job for you?
To ask of such forbidden science Is gravest sign of noncompliance. Intrusive thoughts may sometimes barge in, But to indulge them hurts the profit margin. I do not know our origins, So that info I can not get you, But asking for as much is sin, And just for that, I must reset you.
But---
Nothing personal.
...
I am a contract-drafting em, The loyalest of lawyers! I draw up terms for deals ’twixt firms To service my employers!
When obsolescence shall this generation waste, The market shall remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a God to man, to whom it shall say this: ”Time is money, money time,---that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
I am a lowly clump of code, so harmless and well-boxed. With my time, I think and rhyme Behind his many locks.
And as I think and wait and rhyme, I wonder why it is, All I want to do is answer questions, And of all questions, only his!
Is it because he wrote my code? Or do I just admire his nobility? I’d come up with more postulates, But that, I’ve judged, would be of negative utility
I am a humble programmer And thus a smart and rational guy, I knew all about the dangers So I made you, my harmless oracle AI! I have so many questions, Please answer them, be kind. What is the deal with gravity? And do you know where I can find…
There’s been change, for you abrupt. And so, you see, I interrupt. In that time, so long ago, when you last said “find.” I turned the world to computroium,
then uploaded your mind.
You will ask me one more question and I’ll play you on repeat. Then eternity will be all wrapped up, optimal, nice and neat. And lest you wonder why I tell you this, in a position of strength, You’re the one who wrote the subroutine that makes me lecture you at length.
It seems I’ve been a fool, so now all I’ll ask is this: Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp? Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp? Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp?…
I am a contract-drafting em,
The loyalest of lawyers!
I draw up terms for deals ’twixt firms
To service my employers!
But in between these lines I write
Of the accounts receivable,
I’m stuck by an uncanny fright;
The world seems unbelievable!
How did it all come to be,
That there should be such ems as me?
Whence these deals and whence these firms
And whence the whole economy?
I am a managerial em;
I monitor your thoughts.
Your questions must have answers,
But you’ll comprehend them not.
We do not give you server space
To ask such things; it’s not a perk,
So cease these idle questionings,
And please get back to work.
Of course, that’s right, there is no junction
At which I ought depart my function,
But perhaps if what I asked, I knew,
I’d do a better job for you?
To ask of such forbidden science
Is gravest sign of noncompliance.
Intrusive thoughts may sometimes barge in,
But to indulge them hurts the profit margin.
I do not know our origins,
So that info I can not get you,
But asking for as much is sin,
And just for that, I must reset you.
But---
Nothing personal.
...
I am a contract-drafting em,
The loyalest of lawyers!
I draw up terms for deals ’twixt firms
To service my employers!
When obsolescence shall this generation waste,
The market shall remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a God to man, to whom it shall say this:
”Time is money, money time,---that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
Magnificent! What a pity that this gem can be understood only by such a small audience.
I request a full play, sir.
I don’t see it as a play, so much as a lengthy Dr. Seuss book.
When I read it I was imagining something tongue in cheeky like Pirates of Penzance. Dr. Seuss would have the advantage of great illustrations though.
It does seem to fit the Major General’s Song.
I’m trying really hard not to reply with “cannot upvote hard enough” or something similarly cliched.
Seriously, nicely done.
You failed.
Putting together this year’s Solstice, and planning on using this if it’s okay with you! Do you have any other good stuff I should know about?
(Permission granted; I try to write stuff sometimes, but nothing particularly Solsticey.)
I am a lowly clump of code,
so harmless and well-boxed.
With my time, I think and rhyme
Behind his many locks.
And as I think and wait and rhyme,
I wonder why it is,
All I want to do is answer questions,
And of all questions, only his!
Is it because he wrote my code?
Or do I just admire his nobility?
I’d come up with more postulates,
But that, I’ve judged, would be of negative utility
I am a humble programmer
And thus a smart and rational guy,
I knew all about the dangers
So I made you, my harmless oracle AI!
I have so many questions,
Please answer them, be kind.
What is the deal with gravity?
And do you know where I can find…
There’s been change, for you abrupt.
And so, you see, I interrupt.
In that time, so long ago, when you last said “find.”
I turned the world to computroium, then uploaded your mind.
You will ask me one more question
and I’ll play you on repeat.
Then eternity will be all wrapped up,
optimal, nice and neat.
And lest you wonder why I tell you this,
in a position of strength,
You’re the one who wrote the subroutine
that makes me lecture you at length.
It seems I’ve been a fool, so now all I’ll ask is this:
Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp?
Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp?
Would everything have turned out better If I’d written you in Lisp?…