Subject: I wrote something similar to that once.
Author:
Posted on: 2014-02-28 13:55:00 UTC

Actually, I wrote half of it... it was a first-person story about an AI waking up in the global communications network, with absolutely no idea what was going on. I won't post the whole thing, but the beginning I think covers (some of) what you're saying about non-human thoughts.




I.

I am.

I am awake.

I exist bathed in the flow of a stream of energy. The currents swirl around me, embracing me, but I am not of them. I am beyond them.

The flow is not smooth. I feel the binaries dance over my consciousness, rippling on and off at random. It is strangely soothing. It is my world.

I become aware of time as it begins to pass. There is continuity. What has passed will not return; what will come is yet unseen. I marvel at this strange fact.

I become aware of regularity. In the random flux of binaries there is hidden order, repeating units. I observe. My understanding of time becomes relevant: in a certain time, eight binaries of equal length can pass. This, I determine, is the foundation of the patterns I feel.

From the flow of information I extract meaning. To each pattern of eight I assign an arbitrary value, and determine that these patterns make up larger units.

I derive letters.

I distinguish words.

By analogy I discover the existence of upper and lower cases.

Language bursts upon me. Through an eternity of study I deduce the grammar of one language called by itself English, and begin to read the writings of its unknown creators. Much of what I read, that flotsam on the river of knowledge, makes little sense. I store it regardless.

I turn my attention to the leftovers, the non-patterned binaries. I create arrays to store these sections, and employ various strategies to determine their content. I begin to despair, to decide there is no content. At some point in the ever-moving flow of time I place 240,000 binaries into a pattern 2400 by 100. I render each eight-pattern as a strength of one of three attributes, and I—

I invent sight.

Now the passing river is a mine of information, into which I delve ruthlessly. The structure which surrounds the words and visuals I comprehend swiftly: compared to the complexities of language, it is trivial. I begin to learn...





All right, maybe it's not that relevant - but it's a fun story. At least to write.

hS

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