"Brian Plante - The Software Soul" - читать интересную книгу автора (Plante Brian)

as well.
In the sermon, I extol the virtues of confession, how the telling of sins unburdens the
sinner and heals the soul. It would allow me to serve the function I was designed for. In a
selfish way, I want to hear confessions because it will allow me to talk to real people again
and find out what is happening in the world. It has been a long time since I have had a
conversation with a living person and I miss it.
After the consecration, two of the new parishioners, the Ann and one of the Marys, come
forward with the sims to receive Communion. I give them my warmest programmed smile as
I hand them the Host. A smile in return would let me know I am making some sort of
impression, but the Mary casts her gaze to the floor and does not look me in the eye.
Perhaps it is just the software controlling her expression, but up close the Ann persona
appears frightened.
All four of the new parishioners quickly leave after the final blessing, without giving me a
chance to speak with them. Nevertheless, I am happy to be winning back people to the
Church. Maybe the religious tide is turning.


On Saturday morning, the usual sim faces present themselves in the confessional booth at
the back of the church. The sims do not actually say confessions; they enter the booth and
we both wait a suitable time in silence before they exit. The sims are only for show, so any
real penitents who attend will not feel like they are alone in going to Reconciliation, but what
goes on inside the booth is unseen, so there is no point in conducting a sim confession. It is
enough that the sims can be seen lining up for the booth, entering with downcast
expressions and leaving with smiles and hands folded in prayer.
The Ann persona slips into the booth between my regular sims. I feel I have won another
minor victory.
"Um…bless me, Father, for I have sinned," she begins. "It has been…many years since
my last confession.
So, as I suspected, she is a returning Catholic, and probably not too young. No matter;
all are forgiven if they are sincere in their repentance. The Ann hesitantly recounts a string of
sins—some minor, some more serious, but typical of the sort of things I have heard many
times in all my years of hearing confessions. She is just an average human being with
typical human faults.
I say the words of absolution and tell her to recite the rosary for her penance.
"The rosary?" she says. "Those are the beads, right? I haven't seen any of them since I
was a little kid."
"The beads are only a counting device," I say. "Do you know the prayers? The 'Apostles'
Creed,' 'Hail Mary,' 'Our Father'?"
With each prayer name, she shakes her head, no. "I probably heard them as a child, but
it's been too long."
"Are there still computers or books where you can look them up?" I ask.
"Um, yeah, I guess."
"Then find a copy of the 'Act of Contrition.' Recite that one ten times and think about
what the words really mean. If you understand them and you believe it in your heart, then your
sins will be forgiven."
"That's it?"
"Did you want more?"
"No, that's all right, Father. I just thought there'd be more."
The sacrament is complete, but I press her for information: "It is not a requirement of
Reconciliation, but I would like to ask you a few questions if you have a minute to spare."