Robot Brain Breakfast at Tiffany’s

I wanted to see if a dictation program would be helpful when writing, so, I tested one out by narrating the first paragraph of Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I read s-l-o-w-l-y, enunciating clearly, mentioning each punctuation mark as specified in the directions. The results are below.

“I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, houses and their neighborhoods. For instance, there is a brownstone in the East 70s where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment. It was one room crowded with a tick furniture, a sofa and fat chairs or pollsters in that itchy, particular red velvet that one associates with hot days on a train. The walls were stuck up, and a cover rather like tobacco spit. Everywhere, in the bathroom to, there were prints of Roman ruins freckled brown with age. The single window looked out on a fire escape. Even so, my spirits hit enter whenever I felt in my pocket the key to this apartment; with all its glue, it still was a place of my own, the first, and my books were there, and jars of pencils to sharpen, everything I needed, so I felt, to become the writer I wanted to be.”

Not content with my efforts I asked the Mister to read aloud an article about what went on last week in British politics. The computer displayed 40 flares for Tony Blair and Brooks to crisis for Brexit.

When he read something about baby rearing the dictation device took down baby wearing. My phrase robot brain resulted in robot grandma which strangely auto corrected to robot rain.

Although there is a certain poetry involved, I’ll stick to tapping out the words myself.

Cheers dears, with all sincerity from your robot grandma. I’m going to drape a toddler over my shoulders and go for a walk 😉 .

4 Comments »

  1. Do you agree that, as lousy as it might have been, in many ways the Twentieth Century was a helluva lot easier! In many ways ………? 🧡

    >

  2. Yeah…I tried dictation once. Emphasis on “once.” It wasn’t the fact that it didn’t capture the words well enough but that I didn’t feel like I was writing. I realized that the physical act of typing was an intrinsic part of the process of creation. Meanwhile, back at the keyboard…

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