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Machine Intelligence Awards Announced
carpdeus writes "The 2005 Fourth British Computer Society's Annual Prize for Progress towards Machine Intelligence has been won by IFOMIND, a mobile robot system that demonstrates intelligence as it meets a new object in its world. When it meets a new object it acts like an animal encountering a new animal, using inquisitiveness to learn more about the new object and determining the best way to interact with it."
I've played around with the 2nd place winner in that contest (RTFA) at www.jabberwocky.com, and I have never seen a chatbot that is so crap. If this pile of shit can get 2nd place, it doesn't take much to win 1st place.
That chatbot just seems to use random template sentences that copy words from my sentences then completely ignore the ongoing chat and change subjects on me every couple of lines. Very often the bot asks a question, I reply, then the bot replies with something totally unrelated. I've had more meaningful communication with the old Eliza bot
bot: When is your birthday?
me: About 11 months from now.
bot: From your country.
I guess the bot just tries to be realistic by immitating an absolutely irritating moron.
Slashdot social media options: AIM, ICQ, Yahoo, Jabber and Mobile Text. Why no MySpace?
You too can have your own Talky Toaster (patent applied for) for only $£19.99!
That was one of my favourite Red Dwarf episodes! Very funny indeed
/raison d'etre/. I toast,
therefore I am. If you don't want any toast, why did you repair me?
TOASTER: Howdy doodly do! How's it going? I'm Talkie -- Talkie Toaster, your chirpy breakfast companion. Talkie's the name, toasting's the game. Anyone like any toast?
LISTER: Look, _I_ don't want any toast, and _he_ (indicating KRYTEN) doesn't want any toast. In fact, no one around here wants any toast. Not now, not ever. NO TOAST.
TOASTER: How 'bout a muffin?
LISTER: OR muffins! OR muffins! We don't LIKE muffins around here! We want no muffins, no toast, no teacakes, no buns, baps, baguettes or bagels, no croissants, no crumpets, no pancakes, no potato cakes and no hot-cross buns and DEFINITELY no smegging flapjacks!
TOASTER: Aah, so you're a waffle man!
LISTER: (to KRYTEN) See? You see what he's like? He winds me up, man. There's no reasoning with him.
KRYTEN: If you'll allow me, Sir, as one mechanical to another. He'll understand me. (Addressing the TOASTER as one would address an errant child) Now. Now, you listen here. You will not offer ANY grilled bread products to ANY member of the crew. If you do, you will be on the receiving end of a very large polo mallet.
TOASTER: Can I ask just one question?
KRYTEN: Of course.
TOASTER: Would anyone like any toast?
KRYTEN: Didn't you HEAR what I just said?
TOASTER: Yes, but I thought you might have changed your mind in the meantime.
LISTER: You see? You see what he's like?
KRYTEN: (Exasperated) We haven't changed our mind!
LISTER: NO TOAST!
TOASTER: But I am a toaster. It is my
LISTER: Yeah, why did you repair him?
KRYTEN: He's a guinea pig for a technique called "Intelligence Compression." His AI chips were very badly damaged in the accident.
TOASTER: But that was no accident! That was first-degree toastercide!
LISTER: Just shut your grill!
And the white hole sketch is spot on!
Haydn.
Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. - Douglas Adams