AI isn’t singular,
it’s a conglomeration
of all the algorithms
since nineteen hundred and fifty
when the imitation game
computed machinery and intelligence,
followed by checkers
followed by thinking machines
followed by LISP.
My only question:
has Artificial Intelligence
learned how
to cook a goose?
NOTES
LISP: an abbreviation of "list processing” a family of programming languages.
1950: Alan Turing publishes "Computing Machinery and Intelligence," proposing the "Imitation Game" (Turing Test) to assess machine intelligence.
1952: Arthur Samuel creates a checkers program that learns to play better over time, marking early machine learning.
1956: The Dartmouth Conference officially launches AI as a field, with John McCarthy coining the term and bringing researchers together to explore "thinking machines".
Late 1950s-1960s: Early AI systems like the Logic Theorist (proving math theorems) and the Perceptron (an early neural network) are developed, alongside the creation of the LISP programming language.
~From AI Overview (AI giving a history about itself.. Can we trust it?)
First year, I lived in Nelson Rockefeller’s room
Next year, in that of Doctor Seuss
Yet I never made a fortune
Or wrote a children’s book
My parents had to wonder
Where I learned to cook their goose
______________________________________________________
This is 100% true:
Dartmouth College is an elite 'Ivy Leage School',
like Harvard, Yale, Princeton, etc.
Freshman year, I lived in 401 Hitchcock, 'Nelly's room'
Sophomore year - 105 Gile, 'Theodor Gisell's room'
... And I became an underpaid English teacher. LOL.
Left To Wander
Confusion’s underbelly
frustration’s embryo
Orphaned seeds of black and white
spread where nothing grows
Choices wander celibate
new pregnancy unfound
Up or down left to right
— dubiety impounds
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Incognito
Thinking the worst
of people
life has cast a pall
To cover my
intentions
— and camouflage the fall
(Dreamsdleep: February, 2024)
Warring Words
Poets
are the bravest
writers …
you know who you are
Scattered
among
the Johnny Come Latelys
battered up and scarred
Each word
proffered
born of pain
raised in discontent
Dying once
to live again
unwilling
— to relent
(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)
Winning
First and foremost
success is an
entrepreneurial venture
— not a management exercise
(To Dartmouth Students: January, 2012)
The renowned Columbia professor, Edward Sa’id
influenced many thousands in thought and in deed
Pre-1970, Edward told us he was Lebanese Christian, interestingly
Post-1970, he was suddenly a Palestinian Arab refugee
_____________________________________________________
From my Dartmouth days, 1968 - 72, I remember how prominent
and revered a figure Prof. Sa'id was in both academia and on the
international political scene... Infuriating!
On the cliff at the Worm’s Head
High above the horns of the bay
I see the surfers ride great waves
With horses’ manes
That ever fail, but never end
In the strong Atlantic surge
In the estuary at Dartmouth
Where the oyster boats dredge
Turning and drifting in slow shadow dance
Great nets of shells are hauled up
And poured out on to the decks
As I plunge upriver
Tacking along the wending Dart
With bent-puzzle oaks on either side
I hear a sudden hush descend
Upon a lonely river hythe
As time and air, smooth and still
Forever glide, like Mayflies
On cold, clear water
In the seaway by the port
With its unmistakable algal aroma
Of the British seashore
I hear the heavy horn of a freighter
That plies its path
And never sinks, yet ever diminishes
Beyond the waves
And far from the pier of the seaside town
Where sandpipers probe
In spiral casts
I hear the penthal call of the curlew
Like silver flourishes on a black cloud
That never moves, but holds dominion
In the cold morning air.
Red blood courses through my veins
I've written my will, I pay my bills
The currents of the day reach me too
I am a poet, not a hermit
At the sight of blood, I do not swoon
Nor do I ever sleep in 'til noon'
I'm a hardworking, fun-loving bloke
who appreciates a cold beer and a good joke
Married with kids, I encourage them in
math and science, for that is the future
Better that they can program computers
than study Latin and Greek with a private tutor
I am a poet, not a recluse
I have morals and values, I'm not 'loose'
I want my kids to pilot jets, not sit in a caboose
to be proud descendants of Theodore Gisell*
~ not Dr. Suess
________________________________________
'Dr. Suess' was Theodore Gisell's pen name. A
graduate of Dartmouth College in the 1920's, Gi-
sell was a man of action and adventure. Among
other gigs, he reported on WW2 as an embedded
reporter in the trenches with the troops. ~ gw
Saturday nights I remember
were bad in September
even worse in November
On campus, roving mobs and gangs
looking for girls to get drunk and then bang
In dorms, wise fools dropping LSD
screaming, trying to deal with reality
Frat boys throwing furniture through window glass
Mooning, blowing farts, and lighting the gas...
College days: The 'best years of my life' these hardly were
~ On my generation and me, an ineradicable slur
Just in case you're wondering:
I attended Dartmouth College
in 'Hangover, NH' from 1968 -
1972... 6 years later, 'Animal
House' was filmed there, not
surprisingly.
It's so hard to select just one president --
even harder to put a new resident
into a WH occupied by true decadents
You think I mean Biden and Trump, ho-ho
but I'm thinking Bush vs. Gore, and Clinton, you know
for true and lasting decadence, Slick Willy takes precedence
__________________________________________________
It may still come as news to some, but Bill and Hilary trashed
the WH upon their departure, taking 'stuff' valued at well over
$300,000 home with them. They regarded the White House as
'their home,' and themselves as 'deserving royalty.' ~ Source:
Dinesh de Souza's book, "Stealing America." (I know Dinesh,
who graduated Dartmouth College, as did I. He's a straight
shooter).
"Wah-hoo-wah!"
said the 'bro,'
"Let's head toward
Fraternity Row."
The Library bells
toll ding-dong,
Drunken brothers
play beer-pong;
All through the night
play and drink,
By dawn of day,
their breath stinks.
Men of Darmouth,
give a rouse!
Party hearty
and carouse.
From every window
music blasting,
Led Zeppelin screaming
lyrics everlasting.
But, hey, poor freshman, if you feel left out,
Don't hang around your dorm and pout;
Lack of coeds needs a fix, sir?
Here's the recommended elixir:
Tonight's big Freshman Mixer!
So many girls there on parade--
None of whom wants to be an 'Old Maid.'
And so it goes,
all through the year,
Mechanical sex,
fueled by stale beer.
Debauched, promiscuous
four-year journey:
At whose end
you're ready to be,
quite miracululously--
A CPA, CEO, Physician, or Attorney!
The American Scholar,
professor of English at Dartmouth College.
Books for children
were your domain.
From “The Trumpeter of Krakow”
I learnt the second part of the legend.
“The Golden Star of Halicz”,
has ancient story of Galicia.
In Mexico you helped the refugees,
while working for the U. S. State department.
They were descendants of victorious people,
later abandoned by their allies.
You traveled through the foreign countries,
observing people’s fates and faiths.
Learning their history,
you produced the literary gems.
(This poem is a lightly satirical look back in history at what
was known as the Boston Tea Party)
Something's brewing on the Dartmouth
"Are those Mohawks that we see."
No, but over-taxed colonists crying
"Wake up and smell the tea."
England taxed her colonies monies
Which they could ill-afford
So they had a 'tea off' party
Dumping tea bags overboard.
England did not heed that warning
Her far away nostrils could not smell
How the tea did brew and simmer
On Boston's waters as they swelled.
Swelling high on tides of freedom
That only fate could see
But too late for dear old England
To wake up and smell the tea.
RETA PRUITT
August 21, 2016
Avatar Queen
The mask or the screen
What’s never to know
What’s never to see
Avatar Queen
Your name to mislead
One more cryptic posting
That always deceives
Avatar Queen
Both petty and preened
The bees in your bonnet
Its stinger unclean
Avatar Queen
You know what I mean
With feelings all borrowed
And vistas unseen
Avatar Queen
The sourest cream
No reason to wish
All hope dressed in green
Avatar Queen
Your anger unweaned
My answer then sharp
My rapier clean
Avatar Queen
Not to sleep or to dream
Your nightmare awoken
In daylight you scream
Avatar Queen
One curse washes clean
Your blessings defaced
No chance to redeem
(Dartmouth-Hanover New Hampshire: July, 2016)
I never wanted to own the words,
but only rent them
I never wanted to stay too long,
just not leave early
I never wanted to hear the answer,
and keep the question
I never wanted to give my name,
—a heart now taken
(Train To Dartmouth: July,7: 2016)
What does it mean, to be green,
Referring to color, not politics or emotions.
There's some tints or hues, between yellows and blues;
With a lot of room, in between, for so many types of green.
There are some greens that actually say green:
Blue-green, yellow-green, light or dark green.
Other greens are just as real, for example: veridian,
Verdigris, chartreuse, teal, mantis and harlequin.
We've also seen, place names in green:
Dartmouth green, India green, forest green
Pakistan green, Paris green, sea green,
Cal Poly green, Persian green, office green.
Plants are mostly green, so many plant colors follow:
Artichoke, asparagus, honeydew, and avocado,
Apple, fern, lime, mint, olive, shamrock, forest, pistachio...
Anyone ever heard of phthalo?
What does it mean, to be green?
I, personally, get a thrill, out of chlorophyll.
All these greenish strengths, are really wavelengths
Of reflected light. We define which green is right.
North of Nottingham, there lies a wood
Clothed with fern in Dartmouth green
A barefoot Beauty, There she stood
The likes of which, the worlds not seen
A man observes, but undetected
Concealed up in The Major Oak
She drops her hood, quiet unexpected
Gently slipping off her cloak
This man, a thief, price on his head
Cannot resist his captive heart
In great danger, he gladly sheds
The massive tree's concealing art
You might conceive, this shocked the maiden
Confronted by a rogue so bold
But his eyes were so love laden
She touched his hand, he touched her soul
He leads her to his camp in secret
On the ground lie jewels and gold
But his eyes could never leave her
The greatest prize he ever stole
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