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I imagine it being more like I say "computer, set the lights to forest green", that speech gets crunched by a well trained neural net (or sequence of them) to d

I imagine it being more like I say "computer, set the lights to forest green", that speech gets crunched by a well trained neural net (or sequence of them) to determine an appropriate reaction, then the fraction of a cent compute costs get added to my monthly bill.

bryanrasmussen 10y ago
The door refused to open. It said, "Five cents, please." He searched his pockets. No more coins; nothing. "I'll pay you tomorrow," he told the door. Again it remained locked tight. "What I pay you," he informed it, "is in the nature of a gratuity; I don't have to pay you." "I think otherwise," the door said. "Look in the purchase contract you signed when you bought this conapt." ...he found the contract. Sure enough; payment to his door for opening and shutting constituted a mandatory fee. Not a tip. "You discover I'm right," the door said. It sounded smug. From Ubik, by Philip K. Dick. Published by Doubleday in 1969
- jbpetersen 10y ago
  I may have to take advantage of that book recently appearing on a nearby shelf. A modern take: My door refused to open. The sign displayed on the door's handle in my arhud grew more prominent than it had been when I was ignoring it a few moments ago. It briefly flashed an alarming color in time with an almost painful buzzing on my wrist. A stern and feminine voice began reading the message in my airphones: "Your citizenry is too low to enter this residence. Please report to the nearest reconciliation center or schedule a relocation to a dwelling available at your citizen level." I spoke aloud: "I am loyal to the party that best serves us as citizens of this great nation. Please allow me express entry to recover my jacket for the cold walk to the nearest reconciliation center." The stern feminine voice piped back up in its usual fashion of chastising me from a position centered within my skull: "Temperatures for the next hour are expected to remain above 5 degrees Celsius. Your loyalty has been noted and is appreciated by your fellow citizens." The door remained locked to me. I went back out into the rain.

bryanrasmussen 10y ago

The door refused to open. It said, "Five cents, please." He searched his pockets. No more coins; nothing. "I'll pay you tomorrow," he told the door. Again it remained locked tight. "What I pay you," he informed it, "is in the nature of a gratuity; I don't have to pay you." "I think otherwise," the door said. "Look in the purchase contract you signed when you bought this conapt." ...he found the contract. Sure enough; payment to his door for opening and shutting constituted a mandatory fee. Not a tip. "You discover I'm right," the door said. It sounded smug. From Ubik, by Philip K. Dick. Published by Doubleday in 1969

jbpetersen 10y ago
I may have to take advantage of that book recently appearing on a nearby shelf. A modern take: My door refused to open. The sign displayed on the door's handle in my arhud grew more prominent than it had been when I was ignoring it a few moments ago. It briefly flashed an alarming color in time with an almost painful buzzing on my wrist. A stern and feminine voice began reading the message in my airphones: "Your citizenry is too low to enter this residence. Please report to the nearest reconciliation center or schedule a relocation to a dwelling available at your citizen level." I spoke aloud: "I am loyal to the party that best serves us as citizens of this great nation. Please allow me express entry to recover my jacket for the cold walk to the nearest reconciliation center." The stern feminine voice piped back up in its usual fashion of chastising me from a position centered within my skull: "Temperatures for the next hour are expected to remain above 5 degrees Celsius. Your loyalty has been noted and is appreciated by your fellow citizens." The door remained locked to me. I went back out into the rain.