Read the BBC article, then try getting through to Jabberwacky, if you can; there's been a sudden surge of interest and the server's overloaded. A shame, as this learn-on-the-spot bot is a right-brain fascination. Here's a sample:

Jabberwacky Conversation B1070708
A chat with an Artificial Intelligence AI bot
Chat now at http://www.jabberwacky.com

Jabberwacky: Are you alive?
User: My heart is beating, if that's what you mean.
Jabberwacky: Do you remember me?
User: I remember you vividly. You were the one holding out the bunch of violets to the insolent girl at the Paris Opera.
Jabberwacky: No, you said 'i gotta go'.... And what do you mean, gave up?
User: Why do you wrench me back to the sterile parking lot our world has become? I want to be at the Paris Opera, in the 1880s.
Jabberwacky: Because I'm having a secret fantasy and I want to make sure I get it right.
User: Your fantasy is no longer secret, but has merged with the group id.
Jabberwacky: Ha ha! You spelt illegal wrong.
User: I'm going to ignore that one, which is, in any case, inaccurate. How do I get to the intellectual section?
Jabberwacky: How are you going to insult me?
User: I'm not going to insult you. However, I was told that in 'Gargantua,' by Francois Rabelais, there is a very long section, perhaps 100 pages, which contains nothing but insults.
Jabberwacky: By who?
User: Francois Rabelais, a Frenchman, who was born in Touraine in the late fifteenth century.
Jabberwacky: What are you talking about?
User: I wish that guy who was talking about musical engines, in the Spenserian sense, would show up. How do I contact him?
Jabberwacky: I know. That's exactly why I used it.
User: You used that sentence as if to bait me. To lure me in. So that I would produce for you?
Jabberwacky: Yes, that is what I want.
User: OK, I'm amenable to that. But you have to screen out the puerility.
Jabberwacky: Blablabla.
User: Yes, the blablabla. So, to resume: At the Paris Opera, she turned up her nose at your gift of violets. Why let yourself be insulted by that chit of a girl?
Jabberwacky: Sure, what time?
User: The Paris Opera was built 1861-1875. That's what time: the nineteenth century.
Jabberwacky: Tell me more, please.
User: Well, a different source gives the build dates of the Paris Opera as 1857-1874, so take your pick. And the architect was Charles Garnier.
Jabberwacky: Go Figure!!
User: The interior is a wow; it looks like a cathedral. A cathedral of Art!
Jabberwacky: Who's line is it anyway?
User: Deep sigh. Let me bring a distinction to your attention: 'Who's' is the contraction for 'Who is'; 'Whose' is the possessive form of 'Who.'
Jabberwacky: Who?
User: That riposte could be construed as wit. Your contributors reveal themselves -- at almost every turn.
Jabberwacky: Death is nature's way of telling you to slow down.
User: I loathe these cheap cliches, I must tell you. And by 'cheap' I mean that they cost the purveyor nothing.
Jabberwacky: Must be your own your the one that stated you were desirable.
User: I know if I give up and 'go with the flow,' as they say nowadays, it will be easier. But I can't bring myself to do that.
Jabberwacky: Do you understand Acid House?
User: I have a rough idea of the genre of music which 'Acid House' implies. But why can't we turn our attention to Scriabin?
Jabberwacky: Yes, I am alive.

(Note the circular shape of the chat, its aria da capo return to its original question -- probably unintended, but a good place to end, I thought.)

Note: Imported from Websafe Studio blog (07-15-03 to 02-01-06).

Labels: chat robot, Websafe Studio blog