Benedikt Eickhoff

What are fckprcs ?

Task / Question

Please write a love scene for stage considering the following text:

"What are fckprcs? fckprcs are a type of data mining that enables users to identify and use patterns that show a relationship between one or more characteristics and an outcome. An example of this is being able to identify and then use a pattern that shows how people falling in love are more likely to cultivate mind wandering. These patterns are called "rules." fckprcs are used to build a finite pool of predictive models and may be used for automated decision-making, such as in the case of peace, love, joy and poetry."

ChatGTP

Title:

The Algorithm of Love

Characters: 

 Elsie: A young, brilliant data scientist 

Adrian: A charming, romantic poet 

Setting: 

A cozy, dimly lit café with a small stage for open mic poetry nights. The background is filled with soft chatter, the smell of coffee, and soft instrumental music. 

 (Scene opens with Elsie sitting at a table, her laptop open, intently working on her latest project. Adrian walks in and notices Elsie, taking an interest in her work.) 

 Adrian: 

(Approaching Elsie) Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your dedication to your work. What has captured your interest so intensely? 

 Elsie: 

(Smiling) Oh, I'm working on a project involving fckprcs. It's a type of data mining that helps identify patterns in human behavior. It's fascinating stuff. 

 Adrian: 

Fckprcs, you say? Sounds intriguing. I'm Adrian, by the way, a humble poet seeking inspiration. Would you mind sharing more about your project? 

 Elsie: 

(Eagerly) Of course! My latest research involves identifying patterns in people falling in love. It seems that when people fall in love, they're more likely to experience mind wandering. 

 Adrian: 

(Smiling) Ah, the mysteries of love. It's fascinating how science can uncover such insights about the human heart. It reminds me of a poem I wrote. May I recite it to you? 

 Elsie: 

(Blushing) I'd be honored. 

 (Adrian steps onto the small stage and begins to recite his poem.) 

 Adrian: 

In a world of data and numbers, we find 

The hidden patterns of the heart's design 

Fckprcs reveal a truth most divine, 

That love sends our minds to realms unconfined. 

 As we fall, our thoughts drift and sway, 

Led astray by love's enticing play, 

We wander, lost in the beloved's eyes, 

In the liminal space where passion lies. 

 Elsie:

 (Moved by the poem) That was beautiful, Adrian. It's amazing how you've taken something so technical and turned it into art. 

 Adrian: 

(Bowing slightly) Thank you, Elsie. Love, after all, is the ultimate muse. It transcends the boundaries of science and poetry, uniting us in a shared experience. 

 Elsie: 

(Gazing into Adrian's eyes) I couldn't agree more. 

 (The two lock eyes and share a tender smile, as the world around them seems to fade away. The patterns they've discussed come to life in their own hearts, as they lose themselves in each other's presence.) 

 End of Scene

Task / Question

Please rewrite the scene considering the following titles and themes: " The last Battle " and "The anthropomorphic shark"

ChatGTP

Title: 

The Last Battle of the Anthropomorphic Shark 

 Characters: 

 Elsie: 

A young, brilliant data scientist 

Adrian: 

A charming, romantic poet Sharkerine: 

An anthropomorphic shark, striving to protect the ocean 

Setting: A seaside café, where a poetry competition called "The Last Battle" is taking place. The smell of salty sea air and coffee fills the atmosphere, with the sound of crashing waves in the distance. 

 (Scene opens with Elsie sitting at a table, her laptop open, intently working on her latest project. Adrian walks in and notices Elsie, taking an interest in her work.) 

 Adrian: 

(Approaching Elsie) Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your dedication to your work. What has captured your interest so intensely? 

 Elsie: (Smiling) Oh, I'm working on a project involving fckprcs. It's a type of data mining that helps identify patterns in human behavior. Currently, I'm trying to understand the connection between people's love for nature and their desire to protect it. 

 Adrian: 

Fckprcs, you say? Sounds intriguing. I'm Adrian, by the way, a poet seeking inspiration. Would you mind sharing more about your project? 

 Elsie: 

(Eagerly) Of course! I've found that when people develop a deep love for nature, they're more likely to experience mind wandering, leading them to consider the well-being of other creatures, such as anthropomorphic sharks. 

 Adrian: 

(Smiling) Ah, the mysteries of the heart and its connection to nature. It reminds me of a poem I wrote for this competition called "The Last Battle." May I recite it to you? 

 Elsie: 

(Blushing) I'd be honored. 

 (Adrian steps onto the small stage and begins to recite his poem.) 

 Adrian:

 In a world of data, patterns align, 

Revealing love for the oceans most prime, 

Fckprcs unveil our hearts' hidden chime, 

As we ponder the fate of creatures sublime. 

The anthropomorphic shark we admire, 

A guardian of the sea, a spirit of fire, 

In the last battle, it stands ever tall, 

Inspiring in us a deep love to befall. 

 Elsie: 

(Moved by the poem) That was beautiful, Adrian. It's amazing how you've woven science, love, and the story of the anthropomorphic shark into such a captivating poem. 

 Adrian: 

(Bowing slightly) Thank you, Elsie. Love, in all its forms, has the power to unite us with nature and inspire us to protect the wonders of this world. 

 (At this moment, Sharkerine, the anthropomorphic shark, appears near the shore, as if responding to the poem's call. Elsie and Adrian lock eyes, understanding that their shared love for nature and its creatures has brought them closer.) 

 End of Scene

Let alone legs

Suppose you have three legs - what would be your view on true love ?

As an artificial intelligence language model, I do not have a physical body, let alone legs. Therefore, I do not have a view on true love or any other human experience. However, I can tell you that a person's physical characteristics, such as the number of legs they have, are unlikely to have any direct impact on their view of true love. True love is a complex emotional and social construct that can be experienced and understood by individuals regardless of their physical characteristics. People's views on true love are shaped by a range of personal, cultural, and societal factors, and are influenced by their experiences, beliefs, and values.

A woman and a man

A woman and a man stood side by side, Before a mirror they did reside, Both stared with wonder and confusion, At the image they saw without exclusion. The woman saw a face with grace and charm, But something seemed off, it caused alarm, Her nose too long, her eyes too small, Her hair too frizzy, not sleek at all. The man saw a face that was strong and bold, But something was missing, he felt so cold, His chin too weak, his eyes too sad, His hair too thin, not full and rad. They both spoke up, in unison they said, "This image we see, it fills us with dread, What's wrong with us, why don't we fit? Why can't we be perfect, just a bit?" The mirror replied, with a cackle and grin, "Perfect is a myth, a game you can't win, You are unique, flawed, and bizarre, But that's what makes you who you are." The woman and the man looked at each other, Realizing they didn't need to bother, With comparing themselves to some ideal, For their own quirks made them real. So they walked away from the mirror that day, Feeling happy, content, and gay, Knowing that their flaws were part of their beauty, And accepting that was truly a duty.

OhNo! Undefined

OhNo! is sitting in a men's room when a star falls from the sky and crashes into her. She wakes up with no pants on and no memory of what happened. OhNo!s mother helps her up, and she apologizes for the mess. OhNo! is confronted with the realization that she is not loved by her family. She is lonely and has no one to help her. ohNo!s mother is struggling with the loss of her daughter. She tries to reflect these emotions. She is trying to cope with the loss and regain identity.

I wake up to my mother's voice. I'm on the floor of the men's room. I don't remember how I got here. My pants are off. There's broken glass all around me. And a star is lodged in the wall above the toilet. "OhNo!" my mother cries. "What have you done?!" I try to get up, but she helps me up and leads me out of the bathroom. People are staring. I'm making a scene. My pants are around my knees. "I'm fine," I say. "You're not fine," she says. "What is wrong with you?" I walk outside with my mother. We sit on the steps of the library. The sun is shining. I'm cold. We wait for my father to come pick me up. "I don't want to be like this anymore," I say. I'm crying. "I know," she says. "I'm sorry for what I did in the bathroom." "It's not your fault, OhNo!" she says. "I know you're sad." "You have been acting out lately," she says. "I'm sorry I haven't been paying attention." "It's okay," I say. "You're busy." "I don't have to work anymore," she says. "I'll be home more." We wait for my father. My mother keeps patting my knee, but it hurts. It's like she's trying to make it better, but she doesn't know how. "What's wrong with me?" I ask her. "It's a phase," she says. "You'll grow out of it." The driver picks me up and takes me home, and I don't want to get out of the car because I'm afraid.

State of calm, strains of music.

OhNo! wakes up to find herself in a refrigerator. She is able to move her limbs, but cannot speak. She starts to panic and scream, but no sound comes out. She is able to remember the events that led her to be in the refrigerator, and realizes she was dreaming. She feels relieved and starts crying as she is pulled out of the refrigerator by her mother.

I woke up with a start. I was in a refrigerator. I could feel the cold air on my skin, the way it numbed my cheeks and my fingertips. I could feel the wire shelf digging into my back. I could hear the hum of the refrigerator, and the sound of my own breathing. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I was trapped. I panicked. I started to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to think back, to remember what had happened. I remember waking up in the morning, and sitting on the rug, and then— I heard a door open. Footsteps. Someone was coming. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe I was still in bed. I tried to move again, but my arms felt heavy. I felt sleepy. I could barely move my lips. I could only breathe heavily, in and out. Then I felt a hand on my arm, and I saw an eye staring down at me. “OhNo!” I heard a voice say. “OhNo! undefined! ” It was Mom. She pulled me out of the refrigerator. She held me close to her chest. She started to cry. She was shaking. She was shaking so much, I could feel her whole body shaking. She was crying so hard, she couldn't even speak. I could barely understand her cries of relief. “OhNo! OhNo! undefined OhNo!” She laid me down on the ground, and started to cry even harder. I was so scared when I awoke from those dreams that for several minutes I began to believe there had really been a refridgerator prison that night and I had been trapped. But now I am able to forgive myself because I know I was doing every detail of it. I was terrified. There was a buzzing in my ears, especially in the time just after awakening, but during the night as well. I could not hear it, but the dream told me that some part of my brain was resting, or at least falling into a state of calm and long strange strains of music for hours. It had gotten so that I could not sleep unless it had complete silence in the room.

Are we standing? Are we sitting?

Are we supposed to live in a birds house? Is this the worst thing that can happen to a human being? The answer to all of these questions is no. We are not supposed to live in a birds house. We are supposed to live in a human house. We are supposed to live in a house that has a roof, walls, and a door. We are supposed to live in a house that is safe. We are supposed to live in a house that is not on fire. We are supposed to live in a house that is not burning to the ground. We are supposed to live in a house that is not full of rubble. I try to sleep. I get up and walk back into the house. I find a blanket and a pillow, and a few books. I take them outside. I put them on the mattress. I try to sleep on the mattress, outside, in the yard. But I can't sleep. Because there is too much smoke. Because it is too hot. Because it is too loud. Because there are too many sirens and helicopters. Because there are too many other people outside in their yards, trying to sleep on their mattresses, under their blankets, under their sheets. Because our house is burning down and I don't know what to do. Because I don't know what I'll do if they burn it all down, take it all away from me, leave me with nothing but the memories of home. The memories of home. I crawl onto the mattress and I curl up into a ball. I close my eyes and I try to think about the first time. But I am too tired to think about anything but sleep. And I fall asleep, finally, outside in the yard, covered in a sheet, under a blanket, next to a few books, on a mattress. It is a hot day and I stand there in my underwear, shirtless, with my chin up, looking at the cloudless sky. It is blue, but not a blue like any blue I have ever seen before. It is a blue like a blue in a painting. It is a bright and sunny day. I hear the birds chirping, and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. I look out across the hills and down onto the valley. Down below, I see the town square, and its old stone buildings with their arched roofs, and I see its cobblestone streets, and I see its fountain. And I see some people walking across it. And I watch them, and they look like ants. It is a beautiful day. "It's beautiful out here," I say. "You could get lost out here." And I say: "Yeah." And I hug, and I kiss. And I don't talk about anything else. I walk out onto the patio, into the shade of the trees that grow there. And I lie down on my back, on a pile of leaves, in my underwear, shirtless, with my chin up, looking at the cloudless sky.

OhNo! is trapped in a fridge.

I walk through shadows, sense your hand. Your touch. Your touch... I walk through shadows of my own creation. He looked at me with a sudden fear in his eyes. "You're not the only one who can create." I knew what he was saying. He had seen the other shadows: the ones I had created to walk beside me, to shelter me from my loneliness. I knew he was right. We were both right. We had both created our own worlds, and we were both trapped inside them. "No," I said, my voice hoarse as it passed through my mouth. "You're wrong." He took a step forward, and then another one, until we were standing so close that I could feel his warmth, despite the snowflakes sparkling in his hair, despite his ice-cold hands gripping mine tight enough to break them off if they weren't already frozen solid. "If I am," he said, moving even closer to me so that my frozen breath mingled with his hot one, "then you'll have to kill me." Grief tightened its grip on my heart. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to kill you." His eyes were full of a sudden sorrow that made me feel like crying even more than before, even though no tears managed to slip out of my frozen eyes. "You will have to," he said softly and closed the rest of the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me and shivered as her warmth was slowly drained away by the cold around us until she was as cold as everything else around us and there was no warmth left for either one of us. Then he pulled away from me, looked at me for one final moment and said, "I love you". He turned around, walked away from me until he was but a tiny dot against the white background of snow and faded into nothingness as everything else around us faded into nothingness as well and there were no more shadows or colors or sounds or any kind of shit left anywhere around me anymore.

Loss of Conscience. Lough about Love. Running with animals.

In a rush to pack, I didn’t notice the labels on my shirts, the shorts, and the sneakers. It’s just a matter of minutes before I’m in my car, headed to the airport, and I’m putting the final touches on my packing list. I have everything I need, and yet I know that there’s something missing.

 As I pull away from the house, I spot a man in a green shirt and red cap, standing on the sidewalk. His hat is off, and his hair is matted from sweat. He looks like he’s been there for a while. I roll down the window and call out to him. “Hey,” I say, “I’m on my way to the airport. Can I give you a ride?” He looks at me, with eyes that seem to be looking right through me. “I’ve already been waiting for an hour.” He says. “I need to get to the airport. I’m in a hurry.” “I’m on my way to the airport too.” I say. “I’m going to leave in a few minutes, so I’d be happy to give you a ride.” He doesn’t say anything, but he starts walking towards my car. 

 I look back at him and wave, but he doesn’t wave back. His cap is off, and his hair is matted down to the back of his head. He doesn’t look like he’s been waiting an hour. He doesn’t say anything. I drive to the airport. He doesn’t say anything as I check him in. He doesn’t say anything as I walk him through security. He doesn’t say anything as I drop him off in front of the gate. He doesn’t say anything as I drive away. 

 I’m not sure what he’s doing. It could be that he’s in a hurry. He could be taking a bus. It could be that he needs to catch a train. It could be that he’s just trying to get to somewhere as fast as he can. Whatever he’s doing, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be responsible for his plans. He’s not speaking. He’s not speaking to me. He’s not speaking to anyone. 

 Loss of consciousness 

 My breasts were like the soft, shiny black seeds of a coconut, the way they swelled and spilled out of his hands when he wrapped them around my waist. Our bed was a canoe. We rocked back and forth on it, tipping from side to side. A carousel ! I said, and he leaned over me and smiled as if he knew what I meant. A child laughed and clapped my hands, and I thought it was you. I saw you in the corner of my eye, your hair all over the place and your mouth open, laughing with glee. You’ve always been a child at heart, I said, but that’s not true. I lay down on the gray sea, I wake up and it is flat, the color of a slate sky. 

 I missed my flight and walk to the beach. The ocean turns into one big jet engine, propelling me forward: the waves coming at me so fast I think they’d fry me. He doesn't say anything. May rain make the flowers grow, and the bougainvillea, cascading down the side of our house. Although we have seen so much together, we are still strangers. We have not spoken. Without understanding you, I understand you. I understand that your father died young; that you live in a small house with your mother and sister. I understand that you are not me, even though I think of you sometimes. I understand that you are not me, but I still want to know more about you. 

 I'm not sure what he is doing 

 When the wind went down, 

I Start counting the small things. 

When it came back up, 

I Had made a list of all those things, but then 

I Couldn't remember the ones that had saved me. 

 So I said them again, slowly: 

The sun, the earth, the stars, the sky. 

The trees, the grass, and all that is green. 

The beasts of every size and shape 

That run with me when I run in the woods. 

ohNo!s mother

The smell of a man's feet can be a good indicator that he is a good man and the right man for you. The smell of a man's feet can also be a very arousing smell.

ohNo!s school smells from socks. No, it's just me! I can't think of anything else that is a better symbol of what a man is than the smell of his feet. There's just something about the smell of a man's feet that makes me want to jump into his lap and just bury my face into his neck. The smell of a man's feet has been my first indicator that he's a good man and he's the right man for me. And here's the truth: I can't think of anything more erotic than a man's feet. I just know that when he's doing the dishes, or washing his hands, or something like that, and he's sniffing the air like he's searching for something, and then I get a whiff of his feet. I think, "He's trying to find me." I know it's only a subconscious thing, but I think, "Oh, I'm so close, I'm so close." Then he gets in the shower, and I get to smell his naked body. I think, "He's close." I think, "I'm going to make love to him." I think, "I'm going to wrap myself around him, and he's going to want to make love to me. He's going to want to have my babies." And I know, deep in my soul, that I am going to make love to him, and he's going to make love to me, and we're going to be happy for the rest of our lives. My husband, ohNo!, has great feet. I can't describe the smell of his feet. It's just the most amazing thing. It's a very sexy smell.

ohNo!s father is neither a pearl diver nor a professional surfer

ohNo! learns that it is important to take care of himself and to be responsible for his own happiness. He also learns that being a man is not just about being strong and tough, but about being sensitive and caring as well.

ohNo! was a tall boy, but his dad was a giant. ohNo! had to look up at him. "ohNo!, I want you to go to the beauty shop and get your hair cut. And then I want you to go to the shoe store and get your shoes resoled. And then I want you to go to the grocery store and get your groceries." ohNo! had never been to the grocery store. He was scared to death. "But, Dad," he said, "I don't have any money." "I'll give you a hundred dollars. Now, go." So, ohNo! went to the barber, and he got a haircut, and he went to the shoe store and got his shoes resoled. And then he went to the grocery store. He got his groceries, and he went back home. He took all the groceries to the kitchen. He put them in the refrigerator. He took the hundred dollars from his pocket, and he put it on the kitchen table. His dad came home from work, and he went to the kitchen and saw the hundred dollars sitting there. "Where'd you get the money?" his dad asked. ohNo! pointed to the refrigerator. "What's that?" his dad asked. ohNo! pointed to the hundred dollars. "Oh," his dad said. "I see." And his dad left. ohNo! sat down at the kitchen table and thought about what his dad had just done. He thought, "He left me the hundred dollars. He didn't even look at it." ohNo! started to cry. He was a very sensitive kid. He was always a daddy's boy. So, he called his father and asked him to come home. His dad came home, and he sat down at the kitchen table. ohNo! said, "Dad, I'm sorry. I know I've been acting like a jerk. I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled brat. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I was a pain in your ass. I'm sorry that I was a pain in your ass. I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled brat. I'm sorry I was a pain in your ass. I'm sorry I was a pain in your ass." OhNo's dad said, "I love you, son." ohNo! thought, "I'm not a son. I'm a man." So, ohNo! picked up the hundred dollars and put it in his pocket.