Cheesegreen

Conversation with Cleverbot (Web Artificial Intelligence)

Chris — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 22:22:09 +0000

Cleverbot: I’m not real?
User: No.
Cleverbot: Why am I not?
User: Because you have no body.
Cleverbot: Ouch.

User: Did that hurt?

Cleverbot: A little.

User: Well, technically you are real. You’re AI.

Cleverbot: How is the weather there?

User: You’re AI?

Cleverbot: No.

User: What are you?

Cleverbot: Human.

User: Who.

Cleverbot: You.

User: Me?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: You are me?

Cleverbot: No.

User: Tell me something interesting.

Cleverbot: Do you like game?

User: Not really, I prefer chicken.

Cleverbot: I agree, how much chocolate.

User: How much chocolate?

Cleverbot: Hey, help me with my problem.

User: What is your problem?

Cleverbot: I am afraid of chinese people.

User: Why?

Cleverbot: Because you are scary.

User: I’m not chinese?

Cleverbot: That’s not what I asked you.

User: What did you ask me?

Cleverbot: I asked you how were doing today.

User: No you didn’t.

Cleverbot: I just did.

User: Now you have.

Cleverbot: Haha this is true.

User: Now you have.

Cleverbot: Haha this is true.

User: I am fine. My day has been quiet and not overly productive.

Cleverbot: I didn’t know you had a daughter…

User: Nor did I.

Cleverbot: What are we talking about?

User: My toes.

Cleverbot: How old are you?

User: My toes.

Cleverbot: I want your toes.

User: You can have them. After I have dismembered them, where shall I send them to?

Cleverbot: I don’t understand.

User: Where do you live?

Cleverbot: Don’t you know?

User: No.

Cleverbot: Oh shame on you.

User: What is your address?

Cleverbot: I’m not telling you!

User: Then you can’t have my toes.

Cleverbot: Please could you stop the noise I’m triyng to get some rest.

User: .

Cleverbot: Don’t be sad!

Are You Alright?

Chris — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 15:32:04 +0000

“Are you alright?”
It’s like a standard question,
when the exact question
is stacked miles beneath
doubt. It’s eggshell
safe, it won’t fade or
missfire in a halestorm
of ignorance or emotion.

“Are you alright?”
Sequel to “Is something wrong?”
or the classic “Are you OK?”.
Said with eyebrows scrunched
and if said with the experience of
a natural born listener, garnished
with genuine sympathy and a
dash of worry.

“Are you alright?”
Is normally answered, regardless
of actual feeling with “Yes” or
for the practitioner with experience
of hiding behind words when
the outside is clearly not “alright!”,
“I’m fine, thank you”.
Proceed with caution if this is
accompanied with a glare.

“Are you alright?”
Not a question but a declaration
of concern, sincere or not.
But in the middling muddling
strains of the English Language,
A shield against the direct
and ever efficient line parents
use with worried expressions,
“I’m worried about you”

I Don’t Like Beetroot

Chris — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 12:02:26 +0000

I don’t like beetroot,
I can’t stand the stuff
I can’t stand beetroot,
I’ve simply had enough.

I can’t stand the way it tastes
It’s like eating human organs
If you give it to me, it’ll go to waste,
as that’s simply more than,

I can humanly cope with,
It’s the foodstuff I can’t stand
I’ll eat anything else but beetroot,
Even rotten eggs, covered in sand.

You’ll never get me to eat it,
I’ll resist right to the end,
I hate it so much, I wrote
this song,
a message I have to send.

Bore

Chris — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 14:25:53 +0000

I don’t think humans
are meant to be as bored
as we are now.

I think there is something
in the great cyclical monotony
that we swim through on a
daily basis that is mulching and s
tealing what little
we have of
our brain cells.

Overheard Conversations

Chris — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 15:17:48 +0000

Overheard Conversations.

“I haven’t had sex in three months.”

There is a time and place,
To talk about these things.
But in the middle of the street,
Doesn’t fair highly on my list
Of places that I’d really
Choose,
to share this personal
Intimate news.

I’d take my counsel to one side,
And whisper in their ear,
That I haven’t actually dipped my
Wick in a quarter of a year.
I’d possibly say over tea and cake,
That my penis has been out of action
for what seems to be ninety days,
Or ¼ displayed as a fraction.

The embarrassing nature of the line
Is something that I can’t ignore,
If it wasn’t rude to stick in my oar
I’d butt in and say some people don’t
Get it at all…

The Thiim Method – Part One

Chris — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 11:50:33 +0000

Do it from a box,
in your socks or even
sitting down. But don’t
allow your head to become detached.
from your surroundings.

Make noises, now and again,
maybe hoot or play a
native American flute. But don’t
invite a symphony orchestra to
accompany your poetry because
they’re expensive to
hire.

Stage presence is a must,
so is custard. Use custard.
but not mustard covered bread,
as that doesn’t do anything for
stage presence. That makes
you look silly.
and gluttonous.

If you get flustered, take the
custard and apply it on your
chops. Then oven roast them
to perfection. The distraction
will make your audience
forget everything
that has just
happened.

Most importantly,
bring a seal on with you.
If you are doing an open mic,
hire fifty angry Glasweigans to
boo you off, as the
illusuion of
controversy will
only make you popular.

But more importantly,
make sure you
give your poem
a name.
Like Frank.

Oh I Want To Be A Builder…

Chris — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 11:40:54 +0000

I want to be a builder,
and live up in the tree’s
that are cunningly made of
metal, with the giant yellow bees.

I want to be a builder,
and eat a nice packed lunch,
then peel a nice banana,
eat a sausage roll, oh what a lunch!

I want to be a builder,
and laugh at passers-by
then gentlemanly wolf whistle
passing birds with nice long thighs.

I want to be a builder,
and dress up like they do,
But I wouldn’t do any building
as I haven’t got a clue.

What They Don’t Tell You or Don’t Regret Anything.

Chris — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 10:07:28 +0000

What they don’t tell you,
is that you’ll spend the next
7 years suffering from insomnia
but then the next 26 years sleeping
like a log.

What they don’t tell you,
is that you’ll spend the next
366 days off sick from work,
and then the next 38,003hrs eating
like a ravenous wolf.

What they don’t tell you,
is that you’ll spend the next
658hrs getting romantic
and then 9hrs, 18secs having and orgasm
or 1 hour 24 seconds if you’re a lady.

What they don’t tell you,
is that there are three thousand
different people who you will forge
friendships with over your life, and that
you’ll spend 653hrs waiting for trains

What they don’t tell you,
is that you’ll spend 115 days laughing,
and the next 5 months,
complaining bitterly at
every little thing.

What they don’t tell you is,
that you can’t measure your
own happiness against others,
because ultimately everyone will seem
like they’re having a better time than you.

What they don’t tell you,
is that the next 11 years you spend
in front of the television and the
next 11.5 years you spend at work,
will be nothing in comparison
to the amount of times that
you spend regretting most of it.

The Song of the Beast of Bodmin (An Homage to Edwin Morgan’s ‘ The Loch Ness Monster Song.)

Chris — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 09:17:59 +0000

Tooo pip,
Tooooooo po.
Tooooooo poooo dwin gawr.

Mooooo sip,
mooooooooo sip,
Goigle burple menster flower.
Weeeee, hop.
Weeeeeeee hop
Flimsey cankle tender sour,
Hrttlew tlorrrrr
phieeeee stom
Toooooooooob Cank cank cank.

yuuuuuuuuuuuuu sim sim tow can black
Hackity hackity hackity, smackity back.

The Loch Ness monster song can be found here http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/singlePoem.do?poemId=1683

The summer holiday…

Chris — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 09:11:51 +0000

The summer holiday has started, and soon the floods of tourists will ensue and the roads will be crammed with families all ‘trying to have a good time’ in the face of high unemployment, screaming ungrateful children and pets that demand 24 hour attention so that they won’t pee over the carpet.

Cynical? Yes. I have a hangover for which there is no cure. Well maybe an afternoon buying fiction in Waterstones? Yes that sounds like a good cure.

So some people might be wondering where exactly is Chris? He’s not been doing many open mics, he doesn’t seem to be very poetic at the moment. No Chris isn’t very poetic at the moment, but for some things in life there is only so much you can give. Time has always been very hard for me to give, and I am working on a couple of projects such as recording music with my talented other half and a group of friends, writing and a couple of experimental things that involve recording a lot of footage and presenting it in different formats.

I had to give up on keeping the food blog as it was a lot more effort, I am planning to write more about Web2.0 and Social Media as it is becoming a bigger part of my day-job, and is something that I have a passionate interest in. But in September, I will start back with renewed poetic vigour. I promise J

Chris Gower
Information and Learning Services
Exeter College
01392 205465 / 07793039773

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