The Dead Can Speak...

This is just one of the uses of this technology. Reading a book in the author's voice is another use.

But I'm waiting for an AI program that can mimic behavior, as well as voice. So you can carry on an actual conversation with a loved on after they die.

I watched a Sci Fi episode with that very premise. A widow was offered a simulation of phone calls from her dead husband. They got his "personality" from scanning anything he wrote online, including texts and e-mails.

It was really convincing.

And I could see a huge market for such a service.
I'm sure I would buy it myself.

Well if i understand well AI will mimic the voice of someone you love and it will mimic after death

Well for some people it may bring a lot of joy as they can hear the loved one of the dear ones

My prahblem?

I cain't cook for sheeyilt.

Naht evin SALLID.

So when I gaht house guests ovah wanna eat, it is like Pissypants Territory.

I risk KILLIN' 'EM?

Or I figure Take Out .. Take In ... Possible Throw Anyways?

Uhm, yeah, so that is yesstidday.

Bcs now I discovahed Moi the BRONTE SISTAHS.

Sure, they like a zillion yards long each, an' you gotta git outta their way when they schlompin' along in their Jurassic-2-21stcenturyspazzmic cuppacity ...

but they gtg with naht killin' less voluminous beasts -- an' they know their frickin' greens almost by heart.

How I know this?

Bcs I came upon a mislaid kiddo book in the store whilst'n I shaapin' for zucchini.

It had T Rex an' flossiraptyoores, plus alla them weirdsy pre-avians helpya learn the alphabet backwards -- an' then you gaht yr proto-bovine BRONTSYS.

* breathes *

So ima kinda cool now layin' on sallid for house guests don't wanna die.

"You gotta jus' explore, yanno? Discovah succor where you see it, plus also STOMP STOMP STOMP."

I gaht knives, forks, spoons, sporks, chahpsticks, ladles, scissahs, tweezahs, plus a workin' metronome I inherited from sum guitar guy could come in useful you minded to flip the flippy thing.

So now where I at?

"Lay out your cucumbers before my hungry lips," my guests cry.

"Let me split open your tomatoes, two at a time, till the juice invalidates your iPhone warranty."

"Squish your avocadoes close to mine, in a guacamole yumminesscape of mutual oblivion."

"Peel the layers of my onion back and back and back and back again ... so I may be consumed by the spirit of eternal weeping."

You want transformation? This is prussisely that.

Stoopid thing is, you read the Bronte Sistahs Home Sallidd Prep Book, an' it is all in theyurre.

"Chomp out. Stay huge. Think nothing."

Such babes!