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Marcelo Birmajer's New Story: A Reasonable Discussion

2023-05-12T09:26:42.825Z

Highlights: A couple tries to resolve their differences by appealing to Artificial Intelligence. Until a wise uncle appears. For a long time, Laila and Joaquin wondered why stay together. They had no children, no more commitments than their desire to chat. Eventually they relapsed and turned to Ichat to find a way out of their conflict. But the program responded with a bunch of poorly worded platitudes: an automatic translation, without rigor, from English; Sprinkled with expressions of a lunfardo tango. As a counterpart to Kissinger's idea, "a good negotiation is a perfect world"


A couple tries to resolve their differences by appealing to Artificial Intelligence. Until a wise uncle appears. But...


For a long time, Laila and Joaquin wondered why stay together. They had no children, no more commitments than their desire.

They argued constantly: by the order of the home, the priorities in the purchases, the destinations of the trips, the frequencies of the meetings. At times, Joaquin argued that Laila did not pay enough attention to him. In others, Laila railed against Joaquin's self-centeredness. But when they tried to make their lives separately, an incomprehensible loneliness overwhelmed them. Eventually they relapsed.

"Why don't we entrust our discussions to Ichat?" proposed Laila. For every dispute, let's turn to Artificial Intelligence. I send you the results of my query, and you of yours. We do what the algorithm says.

"I don't know what algorithm means," Joaquin replied.

"Neither do I," Laila acknowledged. But Artificial Intelligence will give its verdict: we will simply comply.

Joaquin resisted the idea, but Laila countered it with a sensual offer. The pact was sealed.

As if finding a mode of resolution itself worked as a balm, for the next few weeks no arguments arose. Until they were invited to the wedding of Angelica, a cousin of Laila. As soon as the guests spread out around the room, a waiter appeared with a tray of salmon canapés. Joaquin, hungry, threw himself on the spoils. Laila held him by taking him by the sack.

"Don't be the first," he demanded.

Joaquin accepted the reprimand. But immediately, a school of human piranhas preyed on the pitanza. The rest of the canapés and sandwiches boasted variety and quality; But a tray of salmon canapés did not reappear.

- Another missed opportunity claimed Joaquin to Laila-. I should be immortal to count the number of opportunities I missed. I wouldn't have made it without your help.

"You can buy a whole salmon stalk tomorrow," she replied. It was a piece of paper.

- Papelón, why? Your whole family threw themselves at the waiter. They looked like pygmies. I was the only one who ran out of salmon.

"Don't talk like that about my family," Laila admonished.

Both pronounced simultaneously and spontaneously: - Artificial Intelligence.

On their respective cell phones, through the voice system, they informed Ichat of the conflict and demanded a solution.

The program responded with a bunch of poorly worded platitudes: an automatic translation, without rigor, from English; Sprinkled with expressions of a lunfardo tango. The advice was inapplicable. They could be used for any discussion, but they were not useful for any particular discussion.

"You didn't explain the conflict well to your Ichat," Laila argued.

"I told him the same as you," said Joaquin.

"Actually," Joaquin added. Explain the conflict yourself. Whatever the Ichat says, I abide by it.

But one of the Ichat's suggestions was to wait for another waiter to appear with another tray of salmon. It hadn't happened.

"I couldn't know there wouldn't be any more salmon trays," Laila said without regret.

"You sensed it," Joaquin explained. There's something about you that struggles to limit my aspirations, whether it's a salmon canapé or discovering a new continent. If I were Columbus, you would recommend me not to set sail. Also, the word "papelón", in itself depressing. What is a "papelón"? A poster paper? A barrel? "Don't make a mess."

- Sure, so you ruin the party for me in front of everyone. Now everyone dancing and you are still, like a pole.

"The one dancing there is your uncle Leonardo, or he's being electrocuted," Joaquin speculated. No, he is obviously dancing. I prefer to look like a bus stop.

"I chat!" - shouted the two at the same time.

In this new consultation, Artificial Intelligence recommended that, if either of them wanted to dance, they did so; that if they wanted to dance together, they would agree, and that they would try to be in tune with the general mood of the party.

"It reminds me of my grandmother's advice," Joaquin recalled. How to ensure that there is no war? "Let there be no war." How to make money? "Make money." They are not advice: they are tautologies. As a counterpart to Kissinger's idea, "a good negotiation is one where everyone is equally dissatisfied"; my grandmother and your Ichat trust in a perfect, pre-conflict world. They do not resolve the conflict: they deny it.

- My Ichat? My Ichat? Laila raised her voice. It is the vanguard of world thought. Humanity talks about this. You never aggiornás, you only look at your navel.

-

Never in all my life did I look at my navel," Joaquin challenged her. Not once. I don't know what my belly button looks like. I don't even know if I have a belly button.

After a pause in which neither of them knew what to say, Joachim murmured: - We need King Solomon. Long before the fantasy of Artificial Intelligence, King Solomon gave the right answers.

"And Sancho Panza in the Insula also," said an old man.

Both members of the couple watched him with puzzlement. He was Uncle Solomon, a distant blood relative of Joachim and finally a relative of Laila as well, through a series of conjugal associations in Rhodes, the island of the uncle's birth, where he had lived for 30 years, the time they had not seen him, believing him already extinct.

- What should we do, man? Laila asked; intuiting that in his wisdom, Solomon would understand, without further questions.

"Don't try to be happy," he said in low volume and in his baritone voice. Always agree with each other. Forget all pretensions. Drink alcohol.

For the rest of the party, they danced together.

In the following weeks, they barely argued. A month later, Laila contacted Angelica's mother, asking for Solomon's address in Rhodes, and sending her a gift by private mail.

"Solomon died in 2003, twenty years ago," Angelica's mother, Mirna, said in dismay.

"But we saw it at the party," Laila couldn't help but react.

"Ah, I understand," Mirna said in a laughing tone. The robot that Uncle Tito gave us. An android with artificial intelligence. Everyone sees who they want, it works like a hologram with real appearance. What did he say to them?

Laila hung up without answering. When Joaquin arrived at the house, the episode functioned as a trigger for the worst argument they had ever had.

WD

See also

The new story of Marcelo Birmajer: 30 kilometres

Marcelo Birmajer's new story: Bella's younger sister

Source: clarin

All news articles on 2023-05-12

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