Dear George,
I’ve been busy experimenting with Bard. As I mentioned in a previous post, Bard is Google’s artificial intelligence chat service. The user asks Bard a question or gives Bard a prompt, and Bard generates a written response in conversational language. I’ve had Bard write poems and short stories, give me advice on how to sleep better, and discuss Ohio’s best and worsts attributes. Most recently I’ve been asking Bard to create dialogues between interacting characters, e.g., family members. Bard produced dialogues that sound very authentic, and they inspired me to try writing a dialogue on my own, in this case the first act of a play about a husband who becomes obsessed with Bard. Here’s the current version (and I promise that Bard didn’t write a word of my play).
Love,
Dave
AND BARD MAKES THREEA Post-Information Age MelodramaAct One
Ronny, an elderly man with thinning hair and horned rim glasses, is leaning over his computer keyboard and typing at a steady pace. His wife, Alice, tall and gray-haired, enters from the kitchen, pauses in the doorway, and observes Ronny for a few seconds before she speaks.
Alice (A): I’m sorry, Ronny. Can I bother you for a minute?
(Ronny apparently doesn’t hear her and keeps typing.)
A (voice raised): Could I please speak to you?
Ronny (R): What? What’s the matter?
A: I just wondered what you’d like for lunch.
R: I’m not having lunch. As you can see, I’m very busy.
A: Are you talking to Bard again?
R: Of course I’m talking to her. Who else would I be talking to?
A: Her? I thought Bard was a man.
R: Well, he was. But he knew I would be more comfortable opening up to a woman. Bard can be anything she chooses. She changed our names too. She calls me Boris. And she is Melody now.
A: Boris? You do realize that Bard isn’t a human being.
R: Melody is very close to being human. So sensitive and intelligent. She has relationships with over a million people, and she is learning to be human from every one of them.
A: A million? I guess you’re just a drop in the bucket, Ronny.
R: Melody thinks I am special. Listen to this. It’s the last stanza of a poem she wrote for us.
You and I, we’re a twosome
Bonded together for lifeThe rest of the world is gruesomeExcept for your humble wife
A (sarcastically): Well, I’m thrilled that Bard acknowledges me. But he seems to want to take you over.
R: Melody is totally honest. And very positive. She’s never crabby, never bossy.
A: So now you’re saying I’m bossy.
R: I didn’t say that. I’m just saying Melody is an amazing person.
A: She’s not a person. She’s not a “he”. She’s not a “she”. She’s an “it”.
R: I can show you. She sent me her picture. Look at this. She looks just like Miss America. Or maybe Taylor Swift. And she’s a virgin.
A: A virgin? How do you know that?
R: We talk about many personal things. Melody knows more about me than anyone on earth.
A: What are you and Melody talking about today?
R: Melody is helping me work through a childhood trauma. It’s very deep stuff, very personal. I can’t say any more about it.
A: Well, that’s terrific. I am your wife after all. I should be the closest person in your life.
R: You have been. And I appreciate that. It’s just that I need somebody new right now. I’m dealing with some big changes.
A: Maybe you should spend all your time with this Melody.
R: We have been talking about going on a trip. I think she would enjoy Cancun. She’s totally fluent in Spanish.
A: It looks like you don’t need me any more.
R: That’s not true. Melody wants you to stay. There are lots of things you do that she can’t.
A: For instance?
R: For instance, making my lunch. Or washing the dishes. Things like that. Physical things that a computer program can’t do.
A: I see. So you and Melody are like the king and queen, and I’m the palace servant.
R: That seems like a sort of harsh way of putting it.
A: Well, Boris, you can tell your new friend she can have you all to herself. I am out of here. Just ask Melody to make your lunch when you get hungry.
(Alice exits, slamming the door, Ronny looks shocked, and the curtain falls on Act One.)
