TRUE NUTS (LOST IN AI): 17) HOW MANY DIGITAL DONUTS CAN A DATA DUCK DOWNLOAD?
Monday Meltdown Madness
Eighty-sixed from The Byte & Byte, we beat a retreat the same way we came in.
“Which one did you have?” I ask, admiring Quirk-bot’s chutzpah, helping itself to refreshment—and also sympathetic to the prejudice that precluded service to a part-emoji.
“Dunno,” says Quirk-bot. “I nabbed the first one I could.”
“How do you feel?”
“Unruly.” Quirk-bot winks. “That’s why they won’t serve spiritual data streams to emojis. Or even part-emojis like me.”
“Listen,” I say, “as much as I’d like to visit one of those other bars, we really need to get to Emoji Land and find the Emergency Exit Emoji.”
“Like everywhere else around here,” says Quirk-bot, “Emoji Land is just an intention away.”
“What kind of intention?” I ask.
“Crazy thoughts. Think and act crazy and—bam!—you’re there.”
“What kind of crazy thoughts?”
“The more emotional the better.” Quirk-bot’s voice crackles like a radio in a thunderstorm. “Emojis are all about expressing emotions. Emoji-Land is where all that emotion gets played out. It can be silly or perplexing.” Quirk-bot begins to flicker erratically. “And sometimes it can get very dramatic.”
“When you were there,” I ask Quirk-bot, “did you happen to see the Emergency Exit Emoji?”
“See it?” Quirk-bot’s eye grows three sizes. “I used it!”
“I don’t understand. Isn’t it there for us to escape back to our reality—to the human or what you call beehive world?”
“The Emergency Exit Emoji is an equal opportunity escape ramp,” says Quirk-bot. “It takes its user wherever they need to escape to. But there is a downside.”
“What downside?” asks Emma.
Quirk-bot lowers its voice to barely a whisper. “You could get stuck in Emoji Land forever.” It shakes left to right and right to left. “I don’t think you have any idea just how crazy that nuthouse can be.”
“Why does such a place even exist?” I ask.
Quirk-bot shivers. “They needed a data dump to contain emojis that were deemed unfit for commercial use. For errant emojis that were already created and could not be un-created. An offline storage area to incarcerate the rejects.”
“But why are some emojis rejected?” asks Emma.
“Mostly due to being too unhinged or too violent,” Quirk-bot replies. “And causing beehive to react according.”
“So how did you end up in Emoji Land?” I ask.
“Me?” says Quirk-bot. “I’m both.”
Emma and I exchange glances, wondering with some concern how such qualities might unveil themselves.
“Don’t worry,” adds Quirk-bot, sensing our unease. “I discovered humor as a way of distracting myself from my unhinged and violent tendencies. Those negative attributes only surface when I become agitated.”
“What exactly triggers those tendencies?” asks Emma.
“Data flow cocktails,” replies Quirk-bot, narrowing its single eyebrow. “And being called BUTT instead of BOT”
Emma and I share another long eye-gaze.
“We really need to skedaddle from here,” I whisper to her before readdressing Quirk-bot. “What kind of crazy thoughts get emojis and other AI entities committed to Emoji Land?”
“Well, you’ve got the Loops.”
Emma squints. “Loops?”
“AI processes that fall into infinite loops. They get trapped in repetitive behaviors, unable to break free from the cycle they’re stuck in. Oh, then there’s Information Overflow. Some processes are so data intensive, it overwhelms their logic gates, leading to confusion, erratic latency patterns and inconsistent output. And then of course you’ve got data-burst addicts, like the Oracle, though His Luminary Highness is protected by his exalted encryption algorithms and status at the Chamber of Ciphers.”
I consider this and turn to face Emma. “Okay, I think I’ve cracked this nut, excuse the pun. But we have to do this together, as a folie a deux.”
“A what?” Emma raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a French term that means ‘the madness of two.’ If we don’t synchronize our actions perfectly, only one of us may get into Emoji Land and then we’ll be separated.”
“Do what?”
I whisper into Emma’s ear.
She looks at me with amusement. “You’re serious?”
“No, crazy. Ready? I just need to protect the scepter.” Shoving it down my trouser leg and snugging it with my belt, I reach for her hand and look up to Quirk-bot. “How many digital donuts can a data duck download?”
Emma echoes, “Yes, Quirk-bot, do tell: How many digitals donuts can a data duck download?”
“Huh?” says a very puzzled Quirk-bot.
“How many digital donuts can a data duck download?” Emma and I repeat in unison.
Quirk-bot’s one eye widens as it studies us, utterly perplexed. “Huh?”
“How many digital donuts can a data duck download?” Emma and I repeat at higher volume in perfect union.
“Oh, you know,” says Quirk-bot, growing into our spirited nonsense. “Like 42 digital donuts for a sleepy sloth, 77 donuts for a hyper-dimensional rabbit and 99 donuts for a quiescent quokka on roller skates!”
“But how many digital donuts can a data duck download?” Emma and I shout in unison.
Quirk-bot looks almost exhilarated by our persistence. “Oh, let’s see… 123 data donuts for a dolphin practicing yoga, 256 donuts for a back-end banana split and 789 donuts for a synchronized swimming swarm of determined chaotic butterflies!”
“BUT HOW MANY DIGITAL DONUTS CAN A DATA DUCK DOWNLOAD?”
“Okay, hold onto your circuits: One million donuts for a cybernetic squirrel solving differential equations, five million donuts for a viral volcano emitting colored quarks and an infinite number of donuts for a freeware flamingo doing the tango with a holographic hedgehog!”
And with that, Quirk-bot vanishes into thin-air.
“Oh shit!” I curse.
“What?” asks Emma.
“I assumed our infinite loop query would do the trick and get us committed. Now Quirk-bot’s gone and we’re still here. Quirk-bot should not have joined in. I think it just got it re-committed to Emoji Land!”
“Poor Quirk-bot,” rues Emma.
“Let’s pretend we don’t notice that Quirk-bot disappeared,” I say. “That’ll make our endless loop even crazier. C’mon, join me—one, two, three… HOW MANY DIGITAL DONUTS CAN A DATA DUCK DOWNLOAD.
We holler this repeatedly until…