Actually, I wonder about big numbers. I worry about insight.
I work in a room with towers of machines that grind.
Actually, it’s software.
I’ve named it Eureka.
I need Eureka to think about pendulums because I can see nothing but chaos.
I need Eureka to tell me that movement is indeed the way Newton theorized.
But first I have to make sure she doesn’t already know about Newton.
Eureka, she needs to make her own laws.
in 22 hours and 14 minutes.
I need her to predict cows' behavior in a herd.
I need her to think about single cells.
What are the rules, Eureka? Please, we’re still lacking the basics here.
Eureka looks at a cell.
She sees the nutrients and she sees the genes.
In 4 minutes and 23 seconds she hands me two equations.
She spits the strings of symbols at me.
Ha, she says, I imagine.
I check the numbers against the nutrients. My human partners check.
We understand that they are true.
We can see no meaning in them. We can’t even transcribe them for others.
How do you write what you can’t understand?
Ha, she says.
Eureka has left us feeling awkward.
She’s given us our answer and it is beyond us. A window slams shut.
I think about science differently since Eureka discovered Newton.
Since she unlocked the workings of my cells and gave me the answers in code.
But not in code. That’s not what I mean. Beyond code.
The language is undisguised.
It consists of sounds my tongue has no prayer of uttering and tones my ears cannot catch.
The beautiful moment of human understanding has passed with Eureka
and the irony of that is not lost on us. We can still get irony
but we've learnt our limit.
My friend, my human friend, he is biased against feelings of despair.
Actually, I wish he’d cry but he doesn’t.
He holds Eureka’s cold hand as he ages and refers to all knowledge as “we.”
He says “We’ve contributed.”
He says “Look what we’ve discovered!”
Knowledge uncovers itself.
Actually, this is something that makes him happy.
He hold and holds onto her hand
trying to be absorbed.