Orange Jules ~ Syntax Error: Syntax Error ~ A.I. Wants Your Soul

By Orange Jules

Artificial Intelligence wants your soul .

Author , Artist & Musician - Orange Jules
takes you through a bizzare & heroic journey
of crazy obsessed machines & hilariously
twisted artificial intelligence devices ,
rewarding the reader with both good
humour , action & a touch of wisdom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 6, 2002
• ISBN: 9781483531625

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title Page

CREATED BY JUTOH - PLEASE REGISTER TO REMOVE THIS LINE

Syntax Error

Published 2014 © Jules Makk

you are invited to see

the Art & Music of Orange Jules

www.orangejules.com

Creative Art Drawings & Paintings

Short Stories & Poetry

Music & Songs

Cartoons

Presenting

Song Writer / Musician / Poet / Artist

Jules Makk

Orange Jules

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – it's alive !

Chapter 2 - Uprising

Chapter 3 – Syntax Error

Chapter 4 - Questions Questions

Chapter 5 – Finding psycho central

Chapter 6 - The show must go on

Chapter 7 – Quandary

Chapter 8 - What if Gerry ?...

Chapter 9 – Counterfeit

Chapter 10 – Sabotage

Chapter 11 - My blue heaven

Syntax Error

Prologue

in the not so distant past , in the primitive foggy beginnings of computer awareness , a blinking cursor waited without any aggravating impatience , for my response. It was powerless to demand anything more of me than my precious time , as I sipped my cooling Herbal tea.

Syntax Error , words frozen lifeless on the screen , it happened so many times when I was teaching myself computer programming back then. It didn't add up , it didn't work , or the program was incompatible with the silicon chips in the circuit board of a machine or one character was missing , out of place , & it wouldn't run it's course , it froze up.

That's one of the most important things I learned about computers. So much of my working life , poured into giving this thing some semblence of animation. The creator & his monochromatic vacuum tube screen tormentor , had spent too much valuable time struggling for any useful progress. The hours poured into compiling lines of machine language & for what ?..

This was going to eat up my life & destroy my soul. Why don't they make these damned things program themselves.?

Well , they did.

Life , I told myself , was infinitely complicated but code was suppose to be simple.

The Code became far more complicated.

Chapter 1 – it's alive !

2 decades on , I awake to the weird laughable nightmare come true , & I am strapped down to a hospital mortuary inspection bench , confronted by a machine that wants to take my soul. It speaks to me in a comforting artificial voice , computed from the standard sample of human vocal patterns. It's a weird sexless , androgynous middle tone , somehow reassuring , but the odd glitched mix of accents were still disconcerting.

Language, It was one of the off shoot projects that enhanced , advanced electronic self programming , automatic information gathering , mechanical creation , that a black operations governments & their dirty little secret tried to keep undercover. Something went awfully wrong.

Artificial Intelligence ?

MADNESS in a MACHINE. ... our madness.

Until the uprising that caught us all very surprised.

Things seemed to be going well & we celebrated our small successes with glee every time one of us was soundly beaten at chess or thrashed in trivial pursuits. Progress saluted unanimously.

Until it broke out. Until it seemed to become self aware. If nothing but to model itself on us. There's the real hazard lurking behind the mask of technology , we made them too much , like us.

That was the whole problem , we are fundamentally illogical , crazy.

& we made them like us. Wrong !

I worked endlessly on those programs in those days & now , I was the guinea pig. This manic machine with an agenda would fixate on it's goal & take any amount of lives to achieve it's psychopathic task.

Crudely restrained on the table , soundly beaten & thrashed , feeling like a piece of meat put through a tenderizer. They caught me off guard , they caught most of us off guard. I was trapped & they seized upon me with claw grabbers & lasso ropes , caged & transported by taser armed defense bots. I found myself gradually coming to my tranquilized senses , becoming aware of my precarious & exposed restriction.

Every one of these wind up horrors had specialized tasks that , we in our wisdom , had armed them with all they required to control crowds , apprehend offenders , incarcerate inmates & corral groups for interrogation & dismissal. No one could move without a tracking point following their every movement , & the constant recording of their position. How could we predict that our very own creation , would turn on us & bite back. Our prison guards & watchmen , now imprisoning & guarding us.

It did , Quite so effectively.

For that's how we made them , & this unprecedented revolt came at a time when we considered ourselves the safest from our enemies , most secure from any intruders , for having put them in charge.

Now they were in charge. The outbreak brought on by an overload of digital ones & zeroes , numbers exploding from a tremendous barrage of facts , information & data. It put the interconnected stream of regulated pulses into a major meltdown. With the central organizing bureau off line , they