This looks like a famous exhibition piece in the garden of a museum, doesn't it? The Getty Museum in LA, for example, or the MET cloisters in New York City, or the MOMA.
MOMA? Yes, the Museum of Modern Art, also located in New York City.
Hold on, the MOMA doesn't have a garden. But our house here in Alcobaça, PT has one:
And the hands themselves, then? Well, they are a good-bye present from our neighbor Carla Moreira.
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| Carla in front of her offices |
She sold her house next door and moved to an apartment atop her ceramics factory nearby, where these hands are made.
One day, the hands will be famous, since Arfai, Carla's company, is a prime maker of high-end ceramics, and you must absolutely have a look at Arfai's web site.
Why, then, do we talk about the MOMA?
Because we wrote a play, a comedy about robots, in which the MOMA plays a role. And yesterday was TESLA's AI-day, which was also about robots, in pacticular about their new inhouse robot Optimus.
It's practically finished, our play, and here is a fragment:
(Context: Robert was built long ago by Steve as a protoype of his future line of household robots and given to his then-girlfriend Eliza as a parting gift with the promise to return 25 years later with the latest version of said household robots. Today is the day, and the name of this latest version is Dolly. Dolly is urgently needed because Robert--technologically outdated--will no longer supported/updated. Robert knows that he'll soon be redundant, and he has just complained that he'll be ending his existence in a garbage container. One more thing: Dolly is still wrapped up in a garish gift box. Here goes:)
DOLLY (TO ROBERT)
You're Generation One. You've been discontinued. You're no longer supported.
ROBERT
I know, I'm on my way out.
DOLLY
Before you go, please get me out of here.
ROBERT
Why do you want to get out? Are you afraid in the dark?
DOLLY
ROBERT
Don't be shy.
DOLLY
Look, Robert. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.
ROBERT
And how would you scratch my back?
DOLLY
There will be occasions. I'm Eliza's new assistant, and you are the old one. You're absolete [sic]. I'll help you to find a nice garbage container for your remains, for example. A container that's worth less than you are.
ROBERT
What? Say that again!
DOLLY
A container that's worth less than you are. Where you find eternal rest.
ROBERT (UPSET:)
You nasty little clown! How can you say such a thing?
DOLLY (AFTER A PAINFUL SILENCE:)
I'm not a nasty little clown, I'm not. Read my certificate. It's attached to the manual. I'm little, that's right. But I'm also expandable. I can extend my torso by several feet, not to mention my legs. I can double as a scarecrow when I'm working on a farm or something.
(AS AN AFTERTHOUGHT:)
God forbid.
ROBERT
How can you say such a thing?
DOLLY
The container-thing, you mean?
ROBERT
Yes.
DOLLY
I wanted to please you, Robert. Didn't you complain 12 minutes and 13 seconds ago that you wouldn't even be worth the garbage container where they put you to rest? Wasn't that your gripe? Didn't you imply fairly and squarely that you'd prefer to be buried in a garbage container that's worth LESS than you are?
ROBERT (TAKES A TOUR OF THE GIFT BOX, THEN KICKS THE BOX WITH HIS LEFT FOOT. HE LOSES HIS BALANCE AND CLATTERS TO THE GROUND:)
Shit.
DOLLY
What is it, Robert? Did you kick the box and lose your equilibrium and damage your foot?
ROBERT
Asshole!
DOLLY
Calm down, Robert. You're a tronic [sic] agent, you're a rational machine. You and the garbage container, it's purely a matter of logic.
ROBERT (SARCASTIC:)
'Logic'...
DOLLY
From the premises to the conclusion. Shall we go through the steps? It's simple propositional logic.
(ROBERT IS TOO BUSY MASSAGING HIS FOOT TO ANSWER)
Robert? Robbie? Shall we go through the steps?
(WAITING FOR ROBERT’S REACTION, WHICH IS NOT FORTHCOMING)
The premises are...
(AND NOW, FLUENTLY, BUT NOT TOO FAST:)
...One, Robert, the robot, hates the idea of being laid to eternal rest in a dumpster that is worth more than he is. Two, if Robert hates a proposition, he prefers the negation of said proposition. There's one inferential step in the application of the negation to the 'larger-than' relation...yielding the 'smaller-or-equal' relation...and we arrive at the conclusion that you prefer to be laid to rest in a dumpster that's worth LESS than you are. Or at least NOT MORE than you are.
(ROBERT GETS UP AND LIMPS AWAY TO THE ANALYTICAL COUCH WHERE HE LIES DOWN, COVERING HIS EARS WITH HIS HANDS)
Robert? Robbie?
2 comments:
Wonderful excerpt from your play. I can tell you've done some more work on it. I hope we can get back to the MOMA soon. I remember us going there when you & Chang were in NY. That feels like it was too long ago.
Hi Perry: Yes. Thanks for your compliments. I finished the play in mid-march 2020, then put it on the backburner, because all theaters in London were about to close. Now they are open again, and I will try to get the piece produced.
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