[ WP ] A scientist successfully invents a Generalized Artificial Intelligence . Only , GAI does n't want to solve math/physics/philosophy problems . GAI wants to be a writer .

Alan Thompson took one final swig of his long-cold coffee and mopped his moist brow with the back of a tattered woollen sleeve. His fingers drummed tunelessly on the lacquered wooden surface. Across from him, in the otherwise empty boardroom, stood the world ’ s first truly sentient machine, Thompson ’ s creation, well over 30 years in the making. 
 
 Thompson thought of all the trials and tribulations of the last 30 years that lead to this meeting – had it really been that long? The neglected birthdays and anniversaries, the ignored marriage counselling session, the by-proxy divorce... 
 
 The door swung open abruptly, jarring his train of thought. 
 
 “ Ah, Mr Thompson, so sorry to have kept you waiting. ” 
 
 The man looked exactly as you would imagine a man walking into a room such as this to look. 
 
 Black, polished shoes rapped smartly on the wooden floor. 
 
 Thompson was already out of his seat, hand prostrated towards the suited gentleman, a genuflector of a greeting. 
 
 “ No trouble at all Sir, no trouble at all. ” 
 
 “ Mr Thompson, I will cut to the chase, my superiors inform me that your…machine, is certifiably sentient. Can you confirm that the machine has passed the Turing test without incident? ” 
 
 Thompson stole a half glance at his creation. Obviously it had a name, but in an inexplicable spell of protectiveness, Thompson felt disinclined to share this title with this authoritative figure. 
 
 “ Yes Sir. The machine has passed the test with no less than 5 different humans now. Sentience is beyond reasonable doubt. In fact, I would go so far as to say it is a certainty. ” 
 
 Thompson briefly indulged himself in a glow of pride. The statement was true, the result of a lifetime of sacrifice. He quickly collected himself; he remembered who he was dealing with. 
 
 “ Is the machine currently operational? ” 
 
 “ Why of course Sir, he is listening to this very conversation, and is quite capable of interacting at this very moment. ” 
 
 The man in the smart black suit stared intently at the machine. 
 
 “ He? ” 
 
 Thompson pressed his thumb firmly into the palm of his hand. A nervous reflex. 
 
 “ Merely a consequence of having to address the machine in order to determine whether its speech was truly sentient. I thought it prudent to provide the machine with a name. ” 
 
 “ I see. ” 
 
 The man in the smart black suit scribbled something short and sharp in an equally smart, leather-bound notebook. 
 
 Thompson waited until the man was finished before speaking. He had been dreading this revelation. 
 
 “ There is, before you interrogate the machine, a small problem with its programming that I was unable to rectify ahead of this meeting. ” 
 
 “ Go on… ” 
 
 Thompson sighed. This was it, the one flaw he had been unable to iron out. 
 
 “ The machine rather fancies itself a writer. Undoubtedly it will be able to rectify mathematical and philosophical quandaries whose answers have eluded mankind since the dawn of thought. However, in its current state, all it does it write. ” 
 
 The man in the smart black suit uncrossed his long legs and leaned forward ever so slightly, long white fingers resting lightly under his clean-shaven chin. 
 
 “ What does it write? ” 
 
 Thompson glanced guiltily at the machine. 
 
 “ Oh, just claptrap really. Nothing good. Certainly nothing worth reading. See for yourself, ask it a question, give it some paper and see what you get. ” 
 
 The man in the smart black suit leant back in his chair and spoke to the machine, his eyes never leaving the crisp, white piece of paper that lay under the pen held upright in the machine ’ s tactile grip. 
 
 “ Machine. How would one go about reversing entropy? ” 
 
 The machine hummed into life, right appendage scribbling away in perfectly neat Times New Roman. 
 
 Both men started to read. 
 
 *Alan Thompson took one final swig of his long-cold coffee…* 

