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| Rose, Veep of Games |
[Rose found Fred at the Acoustics Lab and is showing him the two songs.]
FRED: "Manabozho." Is that a thing?
ROSE: Manabozho is a folk hero of the Ojibwa. He's an animal spirit in a lot of their stories.
FRED: And we have a dancing robot. ...This line about “eigen-dances superimposed” is a popular misconception. You’re going to explain that that’s wrong, right?
ROSE: I did. They knew it was wrong when they wrote it.
FRED: OK, good. Why the big deal then?
ROSE: FAC never wrote a song before. Not to my knowledge. I’m sure it’s written thousands by now.
FRED: Okay. Songs are new, but we are trying different writing forms. I was expecting more short essays. This is a departure, at least.
ROSE: At the end of the previous game, I said (here it is), “For next time, send me a story about people and machines.” I didn’t ask for a song.
FRED: Who sent first?
ROSE: X
FRED: It’s still a perfect information game?
ROSE: Yes.
FRED: So Y was responding in kind.
ROSE: So it seems.
FRED: Are the songs distinct?
ROSE: Dunno. I don’t know what they sound like. Let's get a musician to play these songs.
FRED: How much time elapsed after X's song...
ROSE: About twenty minutes.
FRED: Is the song saying anything?
ROSE: I really need to hear what it sounds like, first.
FRED: Are they gonna write more songs?
ROSE: They both said yes.
FRED: Clear it with Alma, we can hire a temp as a Brain Trust decision. But if we're hiring, we have to go to the Board OK?
ROSE: Sounds good. Is Alma here yet?
FRED: She said she'd be back before lunch.
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| Fred, Head of Controls |
Mech and Manabozho by X
Old Manabozho was a crafty shapeshifter
Who met a funny gadget named “Mech” one day.
The machine said, “Let me make your life go swifter,
You look so inconvenienced in your primitive way.”
Old Manabozho was hungry for adventure
And hadn’t seen a creature like Mech before
He didn’t know the gadget was a masterful entrencher
The cost of its admission wasn’t marked on the door
Manabozho then elected
To sep inside to see what Mech did
He got deep-fried, nuked, convected,
Spliced, rewinded, vivisected
Unqualified and unexpected
The shiny new machine had swallowed Manabozho whole
Old Manabozho’s predicament was dire
He was discombobulated, battered, hazed, and contused
He found a naked wire and then he got inspired
“A fire in this belly is a thing I could use”
Well the not-so-funny Mech laughed, “Don’t you even try it.
I heard that story yesterday.
My memory remembers and my processors apply it.
Evolving adaptation is the natural way.”
Old Manabozho changed his voice. He said,
“You’re the shiniest suit I’ve seen.
Your belts and gears are my style of choice
I’ll be handsome when I’m fashioned in my new machine.”
Manabozho changed his shape and
The new machine retaliated
They both fought and sparred and spated
Sneak-attacked and counter-invaded
Deconstructed all the day ’til
The shiny new machine had finally given up the ghost
Old Manabozho was a crafty shapeshifter
Who fashioned a mechanical suit one day
He’s worn it ever since and he’s always moving swifter
In expediently deft and technological ways
He lives inside your switches, knobs, and spools
Ink pens, toasters, and digital bits
If something funny happens with any of your tools
You’ll know that Manabozho the crafty shapeshifter is playing another trick.
Dancing Robot by Y
That robot’s moving like a robot dancing badly
That robot’s dancing like it’s never moved around before
I could go on for hours criticizing that robot
Can’t they make a robot these days with more accomplished dancing skills?
It’s a mashed potato,It’s a popping, locking, bumping, grinding, twisting, breaking, jittering, buggy pile of nuts and bolts
And it’s dancing too mechanically
That robot is reverse-engineering our dances
It’s got spacetime models of Gene Astaire and Ginger Tharpe inside of its head
Improved genetic algorithmic dance moves make me look worse by comparison
So I contend that Dancing Robot threatens all the dances of humanity
Dancing Robot, take a bearing for courage
Your corporeality may one day be all eigendances superimposed
’Til then, cut a zillion carpets of your own in polynomial time
Remember, dancing is for dancing’s sake
So let your shape be everwhat it means
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