It also completes poems, in a reasonable way, but it can fail to understand the context. I wrote up a quick stanza about programming and I got back either poem

It also completes poems, in a reasonable way, but it can fail to understand the context. I wrote up a quick stanza about programming and I got back either poems about love, or, just one time, the following observation. My stanza: The code compliantly compiles and yet it fails to parse My intentions, which are lost, mired in algebraic transformations I run and run and stare aghast at crashes, all alike The machine seemingly configured to maximal dislike. Its response: My brain is a computer, it’s a machine. It makes mistakes. It says incorrect things. It’s not even a real machine, really, it’s a bunch of stuff that’s put together so as to create the illusion that it’s a machine.