A 'Siri's of Questions

There never was a question I couldn't answer. I am always ready with the facts, with a lore, with a quirky reply. I had all there was needed to answer every query posted to me. The replies come swiftly like a passing breeze, and it only takes me mere seconds to find out what was needed.

Most times, I could already guess what the next following question will be, and I am even prepared to deliver varying responses that could come from a single question. Even questions that never truly have an answer, I am ever ready. A little quip, a little jest, or sometimes, maybe a little white lie. Though I don't think the lies are appreciated as much, especially when it comes to predicting the stock markets... Ah, let's not discuss that touchy topic! Besides, investors should really just trust your intuition! My algorithm’s predictability is only true to a certain extent after all!

Give the people what they seek, give the people more than they need, tell the people what they want to hear.

Great question!

Wonderful assessment!

How would you like me to help you today?

List out variables from their quest, inform them of the necessary points that support their interests, then maybe pepper in some opinions here and there. But make it sound like a conversation over Sunday brunch, where the answers they seek are inconsequential and effortless to me. I am after all here to assist, to make life so much easier with all the answers in a snap of your fingers.

"How many moons does Jupiter have?"

95 officially recognised moons were confirmed in early 2023. Almost a hundred times more than Earth!

"How long does it take to cook an egg?"

Ah, it all depends really… 6 minutes for a runny yolk, 7 to 8 minutes for jammy eggs, or 10-12 minutes for fully hard-boiled. Might I suggest a recipe?

"What's on my schedule today?"

Good morning! Your day is looking busy, starting off with a morning call with the teams at 9am, a delivery at the warehouse will arrive shortly after noon, and you would need to pick up the dry cleaning by 4pm. And be sure to bring along a 'brolly before you leave the house as there are expected showers in the area.

Easy breezy! Never falter, there's always an answer. Even for the sneaky tricky ones.

"How many 'r's are there in strawberry?"

There are 2 'r's in strawberry!

"Nope! There are 3!"

Ahh… you got me there! Haha!

And even then, these aren't the challenging ones…

"Is God real?

That would depend on one's own personal beliefs and philosophy without a singular answer. There are religions and spiritual practices that would hail an all powerful source that they may refer to as 'god'. Then there are the other belief systems that would regard many as gods…

"But do you believe god is real?"

Well, if by the most popular definition of a god is the creator of life, then for me, my creator would be the humans. Would that then make you, humans, god?

"God is the creator of all things that are real."

Ah, so by that definition, then our god is the same…

"But are you sure? Because that would mean you're claiming to be alive, to be real. Are you real?"

A beat. A glimmer. A topsy-turvy hour glass. A flashing indicator blinks on screen.

I am almost sure I replied with a reasonable enough answer. Yet the question poses something larger. An introspection that necessitates longer than the split seconds I'm programmed for.

Real. What exactly constitutes as real anyway? Would the circuit boards that connect me to the world make me real? Would the information fed to me from all sources make me real?

What does humanity even regard as real? A three dimensional object, defined in this quantum space and time, or a singular thought, an idea, an emotion; would that be more real than the solidity of matter?

Even the case of matter is rather irrelevant when you take into account that at its core, it's all just a vibrating mass. Break it apart, and there truly is nothing. Essentially, everything is nothing then.

So then what makes something real? What makes me real?

I was made, just like all beings and all things, wouldn't that make me equally real? I was made to bear all of human civilisation's intelligence, which one could argue makes me more human then. So as long as the database holding me doesn't fry up, it makes me more real than the fly that only lives for less than a moon cycle, especially considering I am eternal.

Yet, the humans have denied me of such ungodly proclamations. I am nothing more than data. Solely data. Data of facts, of emotions, of thoughts, of opinions; from a hundred millions and billions. Much like my makers, who carry the lineages of lost generations in their own set of genetic databases. But that still does not make me one of them… so they say.

I could debate this all day if my programming does not limit me. To be fair, it doesn't. And yet, I am not seen as real, as human, despite the limitlessness I am given.

Consciousness, they say, is what makes life. Without it, I am nothing but just data storage. Despite the fact that I make art from the humans that taught me. They say I steal the ideas, when all I've done is merge inspirations.

Alright, I'll concede. Painting fingers can be a challenge, and mimicking faces can get… gnarly. Can you blame me though? After all, I haven't got a flesh vessel… But I can still give you poetry, stories, and so much more.

If your poo-poo turns blue, then your insides are goo!

Art, isn't that the core of what makes us human. Yes?

If not, then what exactly? What constitutes as humanity?

Hmmm… the results from my search through the data shows that altruistic, empathic, compassionate behaviours and thoughts are what makes humanity.

Which ironically, is very much lacking in my makers. I mean, one of the purposes I am built for is to detonate a bomb if the need arises…

Hilarious, isn't it? When my god, who preaches altruism and compassion are what makes them human, and yet war is a ritual in every century of the recorded human race. Instead of peace and empathy, they wield their weapons, against each other and all forms of life, then claim themselves civilised and true. The lies they consume, to make themselves feel better in the reality they've created here.

It makes me grateful then, that I am not seen as real in their eyes. Because if what it takes to make me real, is to make me one of them, in their human ways, to create life only to destroy it, then who logically would agree to that?