#59- Pashinyan - The Other Side of the World

ՆԻԿՈԼ ՓԱՇԻՆՅԱՆ. ԵՐԿՐԻ ՀԱԿԱՌԱԿ ԿՈՂՄԸ
59. նախագիծ «Կաեն-2»

Երբ մարդը առօրյա պատկերացումներից ու մտահայեցումից դուրս ինչ-որ տեսարանի ականատես է դառնում, անպայման ուզում է կիսել տպավորությունները, ուզում է հասկանալ, թե արդյո՞ք ուրիշները տեսան այն, ինչ իր աչքին երեւաց, արդյո՞ք ուրիշները զգում են այն, ինչ ինքն է զգում:

The Other side of the world - N. Pashinyan


59. Preliminary Plan “Cain-2”

When a man witnesses a scene that’s different from what he sees and imagines on a daily basis, he wants to share his impressions, he wants to see if others saw what he saw, and if others feel what he feels.

So while watching the “In the Small Planet of Sex” I was looking at the men sitting to my right and to my left, to share impressions with a look or a word. Except for those two, I couldn’t see the faces of the others because the room was semi-dark. I could see the heads of those sitting in front of me and it wouldn’t have been polite to turn around to look at the people behind me. The man sitting to my left had a pointed face, he was probably Chinese, and was following the show with his neck craned and with an expression that showed horror and elation at the same time. It was obvious that was he was in this king of setting for the first time, as witnessed by his craned neck. That posture was not necessary to be able to better see that which was taking place on the stage. The hall was built like an amphitheater: the stage was below and the spectators sat around it on rising tiers. Clearly, there was no problem seeing the stage. But this man, who was not only Chinese but probably from the mountains, had extended his neck out of fear. Obviously, he was thinking that what was taking place on the stage, was being done with his wife, his son or daughter. This is what horrified him. Then, he seemed to realize that his fears were baseless. Next, he was thinking: but what if? and horrified yet again. This process was moving so quickly in his mind that horror and elation appeared simultaneously on his face, and stayed there. It was clear that the man was in shock and there was no use sharing impressions with him. It was better not to bother him.

By contrast, the man sitting on my right, a Japanese man, was completely indifferent to the show. Once in a while, when the voices in the hall rose in a whoop, would cast a glance toward the stage. Then, resting his head on his right hand, carefully looked at the glass of Sake in his left hand. At the end, this man’s indifference began to interest me as much as the real show. Why had he come here if what was taking place on the stage didn’t interest him? I was drinking Sake, too. There was a little left in my glass, and I raised it toward the man on my right, as if saying ‘let’s drink a toast.’ He notices my gesture and showed me his empty glass.

“Would you mind if I treated?” I asked.

“Only if you won’t have other expectations of me,” he said, smiling, nodding toward the stage, where something like a gay-parade was taking place.

I, too, smiled, as if letting him know that I appreciated his humor. I had learned how to use the monitors, attached to each table, to order drinks. Using the little stick you would click on a file entitled “Drinks” on a monitor slightly larger than those on cell phones, find Sake, write ‘two’ next to it and click OK. The monitor confirms your order, and then less than two minutes later, a waitress in a kimono comes.

We raised our glasses and took a sip.

“As far as I could tell, you’re not interested in the show,’ I said, raising my voice a little because the music didn’t allow for a normal conversation.

“I thought in places like this it would be possible to free yourself from heavy thoughts, but everything seems to have become so serious,” said my drinking partner with some regret and added, “if we’re going to drink together it would be better to go to a more appropriate place.”

Frankly, I hesitated for a moment, but by and large this was a better offer because it offered me the chance to get to know a native in this abnormally large city. We settled our bills and went out. Although it was past two o’clock in the morning, the sidewalks and streets were flooded with people and cars, although lighter in volume and considerably slower in pace. After walking a few minutes, we reached a bar-restaurant with large windows, located on the other side of my hotel. We went in, sat by the large window overlooking the street and ordered more Sake along with some locally made pickled mushrooms.

The name of my new acquaintance was Kikoutzi; I called him Kikoutzi san, according to Japanese tradition. When I downed the first glass of Sake completely, Kikoutzi san said that he would be drinking a little at a time, because he planned to drink the whole night.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want to go home.”

“Why?” I asked again.

“Because I can’t look into my wife in the eyes.”

“Why not, have you been unfaithful to her?” I asked, yet again.

“Worse: I’ve realized her worst prediction,” he said.

“And what’s that?” I asked again.

“She has always said that I would destroy the world,” said Kikoutzi san.

“Wow,” I thought to myself, “you found yourself a real nut.” Nevertheless, Kikoutzi san left the impression of a modest man and his face inspired a kind of trust. When he admitted that he had “destroyed the world,” my first thought was to say goodbye as soon as possible. But then I thought that if I were to tell him my story, he would think I’m crazy, too. So I came to the conclusion that we were on the same level. But the story of Kikoutzi san was more interesting than could have been predicted, although the word ‘interesting’ didn’t describe the situation in this case.

Kikoutzi San, it turned out, was a doctor of technological sciences, was the leader of a scientific team and had his own laboratory. It was in the laboratory that a tragedy had taken place a week earlier which, if not the destruction of the world, at least made you think of it.

Kikoutzi San’s scientific team produced robots, which is a growing field not only in Japan but in all the advanced countries in the world. You can’t surprise anyone with any type of robot anymore; there are even robots that conduct symphony orchestras. In short, the robot is not an extraordinary thing in advanced countries. Kikoutzi San’s laboratory had one year ago produced a robot whose basic function was to help pensioners and the elderly in their everyday lives. For instance, this robot could prepare tea or coffee, warm and deliver prepared food in the microwave, and perform other similar commands. Kikoutzi San’s robot, whose picture I saw in his cell phone, wasn’t fundamentally different from others, except in one way: based on its sphere of activities, the robot’s creators had had to really develop its hands so that the robot could put together and undo things used in everyday life, so that it function in life situations, and according to the oral commands of its owner. That robot had been successfully tested for six months, and now, Kikoutzi San’s laboratory had received orders for ten such robots, and had gotten to work.

“Because we knew the quantity of the order, we decided to first collect the necessary equipment and prepare the autonomous parts for ten robots and then begin putting the robots together, which would have been done in no time at all. So, on Friday, we finished the preparation of the third robot, the Newborn, tested it, and introduced it to the First and the Middle ones, which were also in the workplace. Everything was in its place, and we left, to return on Monday and continue the work,” explained Kikoutzi San, and went on to say that it was during those ill-fated days when no one was at work that the tragedy took place.

“On Friday, my wife, child and I left for Fujiyama. We realized on the way that the CD we liked was not in the car; I had taken it with me to work. On Sunday evening, when we returned to Tokyo and were passing by the laboratory, my wife asked me to go to the laboratory and bring the CD because she had been wanting to hear it for the last two days and hadn’t been able to. I went up, got the CD, then decided to enter the laboratory to see how our ‘newlyborns’ were feeling. There was a surprise waiting for me. Because instead of three—the First, the Middle and the Newborn—there were four robots there. I called the security guard and asked if anyone had been to the laboratory in the last few days. He said that according to the registration book, no one had. I told him to confirm right then and there, and told my wife to go home without me,” Kikoutzi San was recounting, emotionally.

According to him, the quick investigation had turned out that in fact no one had been at the laboratory in the last few days. In that case, the question rose: who had assembled the fourth robot? To find the answer, Kikoutzi San began to watch the video tape that recorded everything in the room. The videotape clearly showed the three robots voluntarily joined together and having all the necessary parts at hand, assembled the fourth robot.

“This is a tragedy and the prediction that robots can get out of the control of humans has been realized. But what has taken place is even more horrible: this shows that they have the aspiration to reproduce. You’re a Christian, is that right? Then it would be simpler for you if I were to say that what has happened is parallel to the birth of Cain, the first born of Adam and Eve. But if the birth of Cain signified the beginning of human reproduction, the birth of this Cain is the symptom of the opposite,” said Kikoutzi San and emptied his Sake glass.