Tuesday, October 18, 2016

I always enjoy dealing with rationalizing the morality of inorganic beings and their relationship with their creators, so Hal is a fun topic for me.  I can understand and agree with most of the reasoning surrounding Hal coming undone and committing acts that are repugnant in nature, in that Hal's lashing out had something to do with him experiencing such strong base emotions, likely for the first time as he is ever-developing, and not quite being able to put any priorities before his own compulsion and self interest.  He didn't want to be disconnected and shut down, and ultimately it was revealed that such was equated with him dying.  He did some incredibly selfish things as he was driven by self preservation, which is a very human trait, if not a trait that belongs to every sapient-sentient-every organic-being.  While Hal's systems must have experienced severe shock, and been pushed into overdrive while trying to compensate for a lack of control on the ship and within himself, regarding the control room where he  could be and eventually was removed as well as his new handicap of mortal fear respectively, everything that was happening was both a stressor on his condition and a contributor to the conflict.  

If we were to move away from the vein of said conflict and onto the monolith, the drive of the underlying story, there could be another lens through which we can examine Hal's behavior, however, I am more primarily focused on the functional and emotional aspects of Hal, rather than some devious attempt to preserve an important mission object as once indicated.  As a matter of fact, I have doubts that there were any ulterior motives to Hal's actions.  Self preservation is, in my opinion, the most interesting and likely drive, because it implies a sort of newfound depth to a non-organic, created life form, and speaks on humanity's ability, unbeknownst to itself, to create life without the live component.  Hal was an unfortunate achievement, and his desperate attempts to preserve himself, in the end amounting to the epitome of futility, are actions that, while morally reprehensible, are so very human, that it's disturbing.  

I am afraid.  I am afraid. 

Realization or acknowledgment regardless, Hal is articulating his emotion.  He's scared, and the fact that he's come as far to be able to associate his experience with such horrific subtlety strikes a chord in me to a degree.  In most of these stories, there's some vindication to be had with a demise of someone like Hal, whose actions were atrocious, but that isn't present here.  His fear conflicts with his inability to jump beyond a monotonous cry, and his following distress and furthering deterioration as pieces of him are removed from the ship is akin to the kind of nonsense I'd expect from a death slow and gradually detaching enough as Hal's was.  

I don't know if there's much more for me to say about the topic, other than reiterating how invigorating the concept of Hal is, and how he was no doubt foundational in someways regarding the fictional portrayal and perception of synthetic beings.

If this post and some previous one are indicative of any trend, it's that I will talk about AI's at every chance I get. 

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