Riana's Adventures
Jan. 3rd, 2024 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aliyn_ravenShort sketches from the lives of a variety of people through the eyes of an ironic lady.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/52497217
https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3370230/1/Riana-s-Adventures
Story-4. Snail, Neural Networks And Whatever-You-Want
"Uncle Kevin," Riana said to the goodly old man who was sitting behind the counter, "Ms. Danver will bring the hand fan and reticule by three in the afternoon. If you take it, immediately take a photo and send it to me in Messenger."
This man was not her relative. They met when Riana bought a store from him. But it so happened that Riana called him "uncle," and he called her "Ri".
The world was changing, and even such a conservative business based on personal meetings as the antiquities trade moved online. And Kevin Wilson had a hard time mastering all this newfangled stuff. And travelling all over the world, looking for goods at swap meets and garage sales, is difficult too. Wilson sold the store and settled in a resort village on the southern seacoast. But it soon became boring. And the new owner of his store was looking for an assistant who could not only talk a visitor into buying but also evaluate the products. Wilson got a part-time job with Riana; he worked when she was traveling. This left enough time for rest and made him feel like a sought-after specialist, not a decrepit and useless dodderer.
Wilson worked the old-fashioned way, through personal communication with buyers and sellers, and all network affairs were handled by Riana. Successful division of labor. And Wilson liked the new design of the trading floor that Riana did: a very high-quality stylization of Dickens's books — namely, books — and not the real Victorian era. Furniture imitating these years and small, specially made and precisely calculated wear and tear created a feeling of homeliness. Only the bar stool behind the counter was modern, and visitors could not see it. And the cash register was hidden in a real Victorian jewellery box. Even light bulbs completely imitate gas lamps. Of course, there was modern, bright, shadowless lighting, but it was turned on for a few minutes if the buyer wanted to look at any product. But basically, it was an ideal, very realistic scenery that immersed the visitor in one of the most famous universes in the world. And this turned out to be a very cunning and effective commercial move, because in antique stores they buy not things but dreams.
Even the visualisation of the site was like a visit to a fairy tale.
And this fairy tale allowed the store not only to survive the COVID lockdowns without going broke but also to make a profit.
However, the world continued to change rapidly and irreversibly. Wilson was afraid of losing his job. It wasn't about the money at all. Wilson is wealthy enough to afford to live a comfortable life in a resort area with a housekeeper and a sick-nurse. But being a popular antiques consultant and playing bridge with old farts are two completely different things. Wilson didn't want to be a dodderer. Age doesn't matter. It all depends on what you do. But the rapid renewal of the world again threw Wilson to the roadside, took his life, and turned him into a worthless wreck of trash.
"Ri, you’re not a stupid girl," he said. "Aren't you scared of artificial intelligence? All these neural networks..."
"They are useful. And only idiots with the educational level of a snail talk about the fact that AI, NNs, and all that will take over the world or destroy humanity."
"Why did you decide that nothing threatens humanity?" Wilson became interested.
"There are many things that threaten humanity, but AI and NNs are not included in this list. Artificial intelligence, neural networks, and all other things in this area have no need for food and sex. They can't die. This means they don't have the instinct for intraspecific and interspecific competition for survival resources. Therefore, all these wunderstuff, of their own accord, do not move a single bit. And if you hear that somewhere artificial intelligence, a neural network, or a supercomputer have begun to destroy humanity, then they are controlled by a group of Homo Sapiens."
"So be it…" Wilson nodded. "But what about work? How many people will be on benefits? Not everyone can be a programmer. And where to get funds for benefits?"
"I'm afraid there will be a shortage of personnel in many areas," Riana smiled. "There will always be few neural network operators."
"So be it…" Wilson nodded. "But what about work? How many people will be on benefits? Not everyone can be a programmer. And where is the state budget to get funds for benefits?"
"I'm afraid there will be a shortage of personnel in many areas." Riana smiled. "There will always be a few neural network operators. And you don't need to be a programmer. It is enough to formulate the task. But it is also necessary for everyday life."
"Look!" Wilson turned the laptop towards her. "This advertising video was made in ten minutes by a neural network on the orders of one person. One hundred advertising agency workers lost their jobs."
Riana watched the video.
"The picture is beautiful, but the work itself is a failure. This was fine in the 1980s, but terrible now. Twenty-eight seconds is too long; people today think much faster. Viewers will get bored and change the channel without finishing the video. Repeated episodes are annoying and make you hate the advertised product. And finally, how are you going to get people to even notice this video? A person receives three thousand advertising calls per day — not all day; this is its active part; that's sixteen to eighteen hours of wakefulness. But a person notices no more than three of them. In other words, twenty-one advertising messages in a week out of many thousands reach the addressee. And only one of them arouses interest. Please note that this is not a decision to purchase a product or service, but just a passing interest in the message."
Wilson turned the laptop towards him. He preferred to watch news on the Internet; Wilson knew how to use it. And he didn't even forget to check news reports for accuracy. But it turned out that this was not enough to avoid being deceived.
"Ri, did you choose an antique store because it’s easier to advertise here? Lovers of antiquity are a small world where it’s easy to make a name for yourself."
"And additionally, travel is included in production expenses and is not taxed. You can fly to Japan or the Seychelles as many times as you like."
"That's true," Wilson smiled. "When I was your age, I was more on trips than in the store. Behind the counter sat another master of art history or anthropology."
He looked thoughtfully at the laptop screen.
"Ri, what are you doing with neural networks?"
"Design for the website. I keep track of fashion for vintage and antiques through open posts on social networks. I'm looking for communities and groups where it would be appropriate to chat about old things. People don't see advertising, but light chatter has a small chance. I make little funny essays about products in the store for my accounts."
"Is it true that artificial intelligence can write not only small essays but also large novels?"
"Yes." Riana grinned. "And the quality is no worse than ninety percent of the waste paper of all genres that bookstores are filled with. The difference is, Uncle Kevin, that if the novel was created by a neural network, you only get what you want. You just need to list your likes and dislikes and point to a real book as a stylistic example.And you will have a pornographic detective thriller in the sublime vocabulary of Immanuel Kant."
Wilson laughed. And Riana added:
"I don't like this reading matter, but it can be done. People were boasting on social networks fragments of such works. And this is not the limit. You can combine anything with anything. The problems start when you want to share your fantasies with the world and be heard by at least someone. Three thousand messages a day is not just about advertising."
"But to see your vague fantasies in ready-to-eat form and to enjoy devouring them — this is akin to a miracle. I want to make myself a full-length movie. Or at least a series of short episodes. After all, if they make an advertising clip, I can create a story."
"Uncle Kevin, they've been making them for a long time. These are not exactly movies, but full-length cartoons of any visual type, but this is precisely a real full-length work. At that, it's not kids entertainment but things with serious adult problems. You can order artificial intelligence to find sites and groups on social networks where people help each other formulate the right prompts. This is a set of commands for the neural network to make the product you need. Most likely, you will need to make blanks in several different neural networks and assemble them into the final form in another one."
"Show me where and how to start," Wilson said decisively. "Even though I have become stupid with old age, even if my studies will be very slow, but if the snail could reach the top of Mount Fuji (1), then I will someday make the movie that I have wanted to see since I was fifteen."
Riana showed the basics of working with the simplest and most popular neural network and left for the airport. Then began a series of trips and searches for goods, participation in auctions, hassles with delivering purchased items to customers, and many other matters.
And Wilson's statement of dismissal came as a bolt from the blue for her.
"I'm creating my own studio," he said. "We already have a team and a big project. All this requires a lot of time and good equipment, which I can't bring to your store.I will work for a month, as required by law, and I will help you find a new assistant. I still have many connections in the university environment. But I'm starting a new life, and I want to fully commit to this."
"Uncle Kevin, promise me that I will be the first viewer of your movie." Riana smiled. She may have more troubles than usual in the coming days, but the realisation of a loved one's dream and his revival is worth it, isn't it?
————
(1) Wilson hints at one of Japan's greatest poets, Kobayashi Issa (June 15, 1763 - January 5, 1828), and his "Snail" haiku. This poem has become widely known all over the world; there are many translations. My favourite is the one by Eri Takase:
Snail
ever so slowly climb
Mt Fuji
The translation by Asataro Miyamori is not so poetic and not literal, but it conveys the meaning more accurately: "A simple snail making its way up… the tallest mountain in Japan!"
https://archiveofourown.org/works/52497217
https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3370230/1/Riana-s-Adventures
Story-4. Snail, Neural Networks And Whatever-You-Want
"Uncle Kevin," Riana said to the goodly old man who was sitting behind the counter, "Ms. Danver will bring the hand fan and reticule by three in the afternoon. If you take it, immediately take a photo and send it to me in Messenger."
This man was not her relative. They met when Riana bought a store from him. But it so happened that Riana called him "uncle," and he called her "Ri".
The world was changing, and even such a conservative business based on personal meetings as the antiquities trade moved online. And Kevin Wilson had a hard time mastering all this newfangled stuff. And travelling all over the world, looking for goods at swap meets and garage sales, is difficult too. Wilson sold the store and settled in a resort village on the southern seacoast. But it soon became boring. And the new owner of his store was looking for an assistant who could not only talk a visitor into buying but also evaluate the products. Wilson got a part-time job with Riana; he worked when she was traveling. This left enough time for rest and made him feel like a sought-after specialist, not a decrepit and useless dodderer.
Wilson worked the old-fashioned way, through personal communication with buyers and sellers, and all network affairs were handled by Riana. Successful division of labor. And Wilson liked the new design of the trading floor that Riana did: a very high-quality stylization of Dickens's books — namely, books — and not the real Victorian era. Furniture imitating these years and small, specially made and precisely calculated wear and tear created a feeling of homeliness. Only the bar stool behind the counter was modern, and visitors could not see it. And the cash register was hidden in a real Victorian jewellery box. Even light bulbs completely imitate gas lamps. Of course, there was modern, bright, shadowless lighting, but it was turned on for a few minutes if the buyer wanted to look at any product. But basically, it was an ideal, very realistic scenery that immersed the visitor in one of the most famous universes in the world. And this turned out to be a very cunning and effective commercial move, because in antique stores they buy not things but dreams.
Even the visualisation of the site was like a visit to a fairy tale.
And this fairy tale allowed the store not only to survive the COVID lockdowns without going broke but also to make a profit.
However, the world continued to change rapidly and irreversibly. Wilson was afraid of losing his job. It wasn't about the money at all. Wilson is wealthy enough to afford to live a comfortable life in a resort area with a housekeeper and a sick-nurse. But being a popular antiques consultant and playing bridge with old farts are two completely different things. Wilson didn't want to be a dodderer. Age doesn't matter. It all depends on what you do. But the rapid renewal of the world again threw Wilson to the roadside, took his life, and turned him into a worthless wreck of trash.
"Ri, you’re not a stupid girl," he said. "Aren't you scared of artificial intelligence? All these neural networks..."
"They are useful. And only idiots with the educational level of a snail talk about the fact that AI, NNs, and all that will take over the world or destroy humanity."
"Why did you decide that nothing threatens humanity?" Wilson became interested.
"There are many things that threaten humanity, but AI and NNs are not included in this list. Artificial intelligence, neural networks, and all other things in this area have no need for food and sex. They can't die. This means they don't have the instinct for intraspecific and interspecific competition for survival resources. Therefore, all these wunderstuff, of their own accord, do not move a single bit. And if you hear that somewhere artificial intelligence, a neural network, or a supercomputer have begun to destroy humanity, then they are controlled by a group of Homo Sapiens."
"So be it…" Wilson nodded. "But what about work? How many people will be on benefits? Not everyone can be a programmer. And where to get funds for benefits?"
"I'm afraid there will be a shortage of personnel in many areas," Riana smiled. "There will always be few neural network operators."
"So be it…" Wilson nodded. "But what about work? How many people will be on benefits? Not everyone can be a programmer. And where is the state budget to get funds for benefits?"
"I'm afraid there will be a shortage of personnel in many areas." Riana smiled. "There will always be a few neural network operators. And you don't need to be a programmer. It is enough to formulate the task. But it is also necessary for everyday life."
"Look!" Wilson turned the laptop towards her. "This advertising video was made in ten minutes by a neural network on the orders of one person. One hundred advertising agency workers lost their jobs."
Riana watched the video.
"The picture is beautiful, but the work itself is a failure. This was fine in the 1980s, but terrible now. Twenty-eight seconds is too long; people today think much faster. Viewers will get bored and change the channel without finishing the video. Repeated episodes are annoying and make you hate the advertised product. And finally, how are you going to get people to even notice this video? A person receives three thousand advertising calls per day — not all day; this is its active part; that's sixteen to eighteen hours of wakefulness. But a person notices no more than three of them. In other words, twenty-one advertising messages in a week out of many thousands reach the addressee. And only one of them arouses interest. Please note that this is not a decision to purchase a product or service, but just a passing interest in the message."
Wilson turned the laptop towards him. He preferred to watch news on the Internet; Wilson knew how to use it. And he didn't even forget to check news reports for accuracy. But it turned out that this was not enough to avoid being deceived.
"Ri, did you choose an antique store because it’s easier to advertise here? Lovers of antiquity are a small world where it’s easy to make a name for yourself."
"And additionally, travel is included in production expenses and is not taxed. You can fly to Japan or the Seychelles as many times as you like."
"That's true," Wilson smiled. "When I was your age, I was more on trips than in the store. Behind the counter sat another master of art history or anthropology."
He looked thoughtfully at the laptop screen.
"Ri, what are you doing with neural networks?"
"Design for the website. I keep track of fashion for vintage and antiques through open posts on social networks. I'm looking for communities and groups where it would be appropriate to chat about old things. People don't see advertising, but light chatter has a small chance. I make little funny essays about products in the store for my accounts."
"Is it true that artificial intelligence can write not only small essays but also large novels?"
"Yes." Riana grinned. "And the quality is no worse than ninety percent of the waste paper of all genres that bookstores are filled with. The difference is, Uncle Kevin, that if the novel was created by a neural network, you only get what you want. You just need to list your likes and dislikes and point to a real book as a stylistic example.And you will have a pornographic detective thriller in the sublime vocabulary of Immanuel Kant."
Wilson laughed. And Riana added:
"I don't like this reading matter, but it can be done. People were boasting on social networks fragments of such works. And this is not the limit. You can combine anything with anything. The problems start when you want to share your fantasies with the world and be heard by at least someone. Three thousand messages a day is not just about advertising."
"But to see your vague fantasies in ready-to-eat form and to enjoy devouring them — this is akin to a miracle. I want to make myself a full-length movie. Or at least a series of short episodes. After all, if they make an advertising clip, I can create a story."
"Uncle Kevin, they've been making them for a long time. These are not exactly movies, but full-length cartoons of any visual type, but this is precisely a real full-length work. At that, it's not kids entertainment but things with serious adult problems. You can order artificial intelligence to find sites and groups on social networks where people help each other formulate the right prompts. This is a set of commands for the neural network to make the product you need. Most likely, you will need to make blanks in several different neural networks and assemble them into the final form in another one."
"Show me where and how to start," Wilson said decisively. "Even though I have become stupid with old age, even if my studies will be very slow, but if the snail could reach the top of Mount Fuji (1), then I will someday make the movie that I have wanted to see since I was fifteen."
Riana showed the basics of working with the simplest and most popular neural network and left for the airport. Then began a series of trips and searches for goods, participation in auctions, hassles with delivering purchased items to customers, and many other matters.
And Wilson's statement of dismissal came as a bolt from the blue for her.
"I'm creating my own studio," he said. "We already have a team and a big project. All this requires a lot of time and good equipment, which I can't bring to your store.I will work for a month, as required by law, and I will help you find a new assistant. I still have many connections in the university environment. But I'm starting a new life, and I want to fully commit to this."
"Uncle Kevin, promise me that I will be the first viewer of your movie." Riana smiled. She may have more troubles than usual in the coming days, but the realisation of a loved one's dream and his revival is worth it, isn't it?
————
(1) Wilson hints at one of Japan's greatest poets, Kobayashi Issa (June 15, 1763 - January 5, 1828), and his "Snail" haiku. This poem has become widely known all over the world; there are many translations. My favourite is the one by Eri Takase:
Snail
ever so slowly climb
Mt Fuji
The translation by Asataro Miyamori is not so poetic and not literal, but it conveys the meaning more accurately: "A simple snail making its way up… the tallest mountain in Japan!"
