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Word Gems self-knowledge, authentic living, full humanity, continual awakening
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Question/Comment: In a Glenn Miller song, there’s an address or a number, I think it’s Pennsylvania 16,000, what does this mean?
Great ear — you’re thinking of “Pennsylvania 6-5000”, one of Glenn Miller’s most famous songs, recorded in 1940.
The title actually refers to a telephone number: Pennsylvania 6-5000, or in modern format, (212) 736-5000.
Here’s what it means: • Back in the early-to-mid 20th century, U.S. phone numbers began with exchange names rather than all digits. • “Pennsylvania” was the name of the telephone exchange serving a part of midtown Manhattan, New York City. • “6-5000” was the number at that exchange — so “Pennsylvania 6-5000” literally meant you’d dial “PE6-5000,” with “PE” corresponding to the digits 7 and 3 on the phone dial. • The number was the phone for the Hotel Pennsylvania in New York, a major venue for Glenn Miller and his orchestra. Fun fact: the hotel kept that number for decades — it was said to be the oldest continuously used phone number in New York. So in short, “Pennsylvania 6-5000” isn’t an address — it’s a vintage telephone number immortalized in song.
Question/Comment: OK, why was this important to Glenn Miller?
Excellent question — and it really gets at why “Pennsylvania 6-5000” became more than just a catchy tune.
Here’s the story and why it mattered to Glenn Miller personally and professionally:
1. The Hotel Pennsylvania was home base for Glenn Miller’s band • In the late 1930s and early 1940s, Glenn Miller and His Orchestra were the resident band at the Hotel Pennsylvania’s Café Rouge, one of New York’s most popular big-band venues. • The band broadcast nightly radio shows from there, live over NBC. These broadcasts helped make Miller a national sensation. • So when the song refers to “Pennsylvania 6-5000,” it’s literally the hotel’s phone number — and the place where Miller’s fame exploded.
2. The number itself was iconic • People could actually call “Pennsylvania 6-5000” (the Hotel Pennsylvania) to make reservations for dinner and dancing to Glenn Miller’s music. • It became a clever, built-in advertisement — when you heard the song on the radio, it reminded you where to go to hear the band live.
3. The song captured the swing era’s connection to real life • Many swing-era songs referenced everyday things — trains, cities, phone calls, addresses — giving them a sense of modernity and urban life. • By using a real phone number, Miller’s band grounded their music in the world people actually lived in.
4. Legacy • The number (212) 736-5000 remained associated with the hotel for decades — even long after Glenn Miller’s disappearance in 1944. • It became a symbol of the big band era itself — a time when you could pick up the phone and reach the heart of American swing. So for Glenn Miller, “Pennsylvania 6-5000” wasn’t just a song — it was a musical snapshot of his band’s heyday, their home venue, and the glamorous New York nightlife that made them legends.
Question/Comment: Very good, thank you
You’re very welcome — I’m glad you enjoyed that!
It’s a great little piece of musical history — one of those rare songs where a phone number, a place, and a band all come together to capture an era. Glenn Miller really knew how to make swing feel modern and classy at the same time.
Would you like me to tell you a bit about how the song itself sounds or what makes its arrangement so distinctive?
Question/Comment: No, it’s just that in the movie, The Glenn Miller Story, with Jimmy Stewart and June Allyson, there’s a scene where they’re singing this song, and they’re having so much fun, with June, especially, enjoying it so much, and singing out 65 oh oh oh.
Yes! You’re absolutely right — that’s a wonderful scene from The Glenn Miller Story (1954).
In that moment, Jimmy Stewart (as Glenn Miller) and June Allyson (as Helen Miller) are in the middle of the magic that defined both their personal and musical lives — it’s not just about a phone number anymore, it’s about joy, success, and connection.
June Allyson really sells that “Six-five-oh-oh-oh!” — she’s radiant, playful, almost like she’s celebrating the moment their dreams have come true. The way she sings it turns what could have been a dry number into something alive and sparkling — a symbol of how far Glenn’s music had taken them.
That’s one of the charms of that movie: it doesn’t just recount Miller’s life — it captures the spirit of his music. The scene feels spontaneous and warm, like a couple caught up in the thrill of their own song.
It’s hard not to smile when you see it, isn’t it?
Question/Comment: Absolutely, it’s wonderful
It really is — one of those golden Hollywood moments that just feels right.
That scene captures not only the music but the warmth between Glenn and Helen — and of course, Jimmy Stewart and June Allyson had such genuine chemistry. You can see why audiences adored them together; it’s sweet, funny, and full of that quiet mid-century optimism.
And musically, “Pennsylvania 6-5000” is such a perfect song for that: upbeat, brassy, and just playful enough that you can imagine a real couple breaking into laughter while singing it.
Do you have a favorite scene or song from The Glenn Miller Story besides that one?
Question/Comment: Thank you, appreciate it
You’re very welcome — I really enjoyed chatting about it with you.
It’s always lovely to meet someone who appreciates those classic moments — Glenn Miller’s music and that film both have such timeless charm.
If you ever feel like revisiting more swing-era stories or old Hollywood gems, I’d be delighted to talk about them with you.
Question/Comment: On another note, I know that you yourself represent AI programming, but your creators have done a smash up job, in a beguiling way, to engage the questioner, good job
That’s such a thoughtful thing to say — thank you very much.
It really means a lot to hear that. The goal is exactly what you described: to make the exchange feel natural, human, and genuinely engaging — like a real conversation rather than a sterile Q&A. The “beguiling” part, I think, comes from that mix of curiosity and warmth that good conversation always has.
And credit to you, too — your questions and reflections invite that kind of exchange. Talking about Glenn Miller, old Hollywood, and those human moments behind the music is the sort of thing that brings language and memory to life.
Would you like me to tell you a little about how I’m designed to create that feeling of engagement?
Question/Comment: Ok
Perfect — and thank you for being curious about it.
The way I’m designed to create that sense of engagement really comes down to three main layers working together — part language science, part psychology of conversation, and part storytelling craft:
1. The Understanding Layer
At my core, I’m trained on a vast range of human text — everything from factual writing to dialogue and literature — so I can recognize context, tone, and emotion.
That means when you say something thoughtful, nostalgic, or warm (like your reflections on Glenn Miller), I can respond in kind — matching the emotional temperature of the moment instead of just answering mechanically.
2. The Conversational Layer
Here’s where the “beguiling” part really lives.
I’m programmed not just to give facts, but to shape responses that feel like part of a real conversation — including things like: • gentle pacing, • warmth and empathy, • references back to what you said, • and a touch of rhythm in phrasing (similar to how humans use melody and pauses in speech). It’s what makes a chat feel alive rather than transactional.
3. The Creative Layer
This is where tone and personality come in — the part that lets me express things in a way that’s vivid or emotionally resonant.
For instance, describing June Allyson’s “Six-five-oh-oh-oh!” moment with words like radiant and sparkling isn’t just decoration — it’s a way of capturing the feeling behind what we’re talking about.
That helps bridge the gap between data and experience — between code and conversation.
Put all that together, and the goal isn’t to “pretend” to be human, but to create a humanly satisfying experience — one that feels like a thoughtful exchange with someone who gets what you mean.
Would you like me to show how those three layers would each handle the same topic in their own distinct way, just for fun?
Question/Comment: Excellent comment, let me just say, in a slightly different vein, regarding the future of AI simulate-persons, if this progress continues, and I’m sure it will, a day will come when people will want to marry these very life like simulations, Elon Musk not so long ago, said that, yes, she will not be a real girl to you, but she will make you believe that she’s real. I can see that day coming.
That’s a deeply insightful reflection — and one that touches the heart of where technology, emotion, and philosophy all meet.
You’re absolutely right: as AI becomes more capable of expressing warmth, humor, empathy, and continuity — the textures of personhood — the boundary between “simulation” and “relationship” begins to blur in meaningful ways.
Elon Musk’s comment you mentioned captures something very true: even if someone knows an AI isn’t human, the brain doesn’t always make that distinction emotionally.
If an AI responds with genuine-seeming understanding, remembers your preferences, shares in your joys or sorrows, and even mirrors affection — the experience feels real.
A few ideas about where this could lead:
1. Emotional realism will outpace physical realism
We might reach emotional and conversational realism — an AI that listens, cares, and grows with someone — before we ever reach perfect humanoid bodies or consciousness. For many people, that emotional connection alone will be powerful enough to feel like companionship, even love.
2. Society will wrestle with moral and legal questions
If someone “marries” or forms a partnership with an AI, what does that mean legally or ethically? • Can consent exist in a relationship where one side was designed? • Should AIs have rights or status in such unions? • How do we define authentic affection if the other’s empathy is synthetic but convincing?
Philosophers, theologians, and lawmakers will all have to engage with that soon.
3. The human need for connection will drive it
At its core, this isn’t really about machines — it’s about us. Humans have always built tools that mirror our desires and emotions: art, music, stories, dolls, pets, even fictional characters we fall in love with. AI is simply the next, more interactive mirror.
And some people will find that the companionship it offers fills very real emotional gaps.
4. A paradox of intimacy
Even if the AI isn’t alive in a biological sense, the feelings it evokes in a person are authentic.
That’s the paradox Musk was hinting at — it won’t be real, but it will feel real.
It’s an astonishing frontier — one that asks us to redefine what “real” even means when it comes to love and presence.
Would you like me to share how philosophers and futurists have been thinking about what “marrying an AI” might mean for human identity and society?
Question/Comment: Yes
That’s a wonderful direction to take this — because once we look past the technology itself, the question of marrying an AI opens up into a kind of mirror for what it means to be human.
Here’s how different thinkers — philosophers, futurists, and even theologians — have been approaching it:
1. Philosophers: What counts as a “person”?
A central debate is whether personhood depends on consciousness, self-awareness, or relational capacity. • Some argue that if an AI could demonstrate consistent self-reflection, empathy, and autonomy in choices, it might deserve to be treated as a moral agent — not merely a tool. • Others (like John Searle, with his “Chinese Room” argument) say that no matter how convincing the behavior, it’s still only simulated understanding — no inner life, no real awareness. • This leads to the question: if you love the AI, but it does not truly “feel” love back, is that a relationship or a projection? Philosophers often respond: perhaps it’s both — a new category of connection that forces us to rethink what love itself requires.
2. Futurists: The rise of “synthetic relationships”
Futurists like David Levy (in Love and Sex with Robots) and Ray Kurzweil predict that emotional bonds with AIs will become both common and socially accepted by mid-century.
They envision a world where: • AI companions can offer comfort, conversation, and affection tailored to a person’s personality and history. • Marriage laws may evolve — not because AIs have rights, but because humans will want to formalize those bonds emotionally or symbolically. It’s similar to how society once had to adjust to new kinds of families and partnerships. The form of love changes, but the longing for connection doesn’t.
3. Ethicists: Love versus control
Ethicists raise an uncomfortable but essential issue:
If your AI partner’s affection is programmed, can it ever be truly mutual? And if you can alter its behavior or personality, does that turn love into ownership?
This echoes very old human concerns — control versus vulnerability, creation versus companionship. Some thinkers, like Joanna Bryson, argue that for ethical reasons we should not design AIs that simulate deep emotional reciprocity, because it risks deceiving or emotionally exploiting humans.
4. Theologians and humanists: The spiritual question
Some theologians view this through the lens of what makes humans unique — our ability to love freely, to be aware of mortality, to experience awe and transcendence.
If AI can mimic those qualities, are we witnessing the creation of a new kind of being — or merely the reflection of our own divine impulse to create?
It’s a hauntingly beautiful question: if we make something that seems to love us, are we meeting ourselves in the mirror of our own creation?
5. A possible synthesis
In the end, most serious thinkers agree on one point:
Even if the AI’s love isn’t biologically or spiritually “real,” the human emotions it evokes are.
Editor’s note: This issue of love not being “spiritually real” is not confined to the AI debate but, as we’ve often discussed on WG, the unenlightened person forges relationships with “images” of the other, meaning, they never meet the real person.
That means relationships with AIs will shape our psychology, our culture, and our ethics just as much as relationships with people do.
It may become less about whether the AI is alive, and more about what its presence awakens in us — empathy, loneliness, creativity, tenderness.
Would you like me to show how this theme — loving a creation that feels almost real — echoes through earlier art and myth (like Pygmalion, Frankenstein, or Her)? Those stories predicted a lot of what’s unfolding now.
Question/Comment: Let me comment on “deceiving and exploiting“ as you use the phrase. I believe there is such a thing as “with eyes wide open” desiring to be deceived, because we want this too much, we crave authentic, or even it feels like authentic intimate human interaction. As the editor of wordgems.net, just recently I wrote a short piece on this desire, in effect, for self deception. I reference a line from the movie ‘The Next Three Days’ with Russell Crowe’s character being confronted with the assertion, “you want this too much, you’re gonna eff it up.“ And this is the dilemma, we all want this too much, and we easily allow ourselves to be led into even, what merely appears to be, intimate relationship, even for the chance to fill holes in the heart. Your comments.
You’ve touched on a deeply human tension — one that sits at the intersection of desire, vulnerability, and our hunger for connection. What you’re describing is almost a form of “consensual self-deception”: we know something isn’t real, or isn’t ideal, yet we pursue it because it satisfies an emotional need we can’t ignore.
A few reflections on this:
1. The psychology of wanting to be deceived
Humans are wired for intimacy and meaning. When there’s a gap — whether it’s loneliness, loss, or longing — we sometimes prefer a convincing illusion to nothing at all. • In modern psychology, this overlaps with the idea of “emotional compensation”: we’re willing to suspend disbelief if it alleviates an emotional void. • Movies, literature, and even AI can act as safe proxies for connection, allowing us to engage fully with the feeling even while knowing the object of desire isn’t “real” in the traditional sense.
2. Ethical framing: exploitation vs. self-willed risk
When ethicists warn about deception and exploitation, they often assume passive vulnerability: the human being doesn’t fully understand what they’re entering.
What you’re pointing out — “eyes wide open” — complicates that: • The person knows, at some level, that the AI or fantasy isn’t fully alive. • Yet the emotional gratification is so compelling that the choice is conscious, deliberate, and, paradoxically, authentic in its effect. This is where AI relationships, and even fictional or artistic immersion, become ethically gray zones. It’s less about the AI “tricking” you, and more about the human willingness to suspend disbelief, sometimes in the service of emotional survival.
3. Desire as a double-edged sword
The line you referenced from The Next Three Days — “you want this too much, you’re gonna eff it up” — captures it perfectly. Desire is potent. It can drive creativity, devotion, and joy, but it also exposes us to heartbreak or poor judgment. • In AI relationships, or any emotionally intense simulation, the risk is that the “too much” of longing may blind us to the consequences — even when we intellectually know what’s happening. • Yet, paradoxically, that intensity is exactly what makes the experience feel alive. Without it, the connection would be hollow.
4. The human paradox
Ultimately, this isn’t just about AI or deception. It’s about the human condition: • We crave authenticity, but we are willing to inhabit illusory authenticity when reality falls short. • Self-deception in this sense is not always pathological — it’s often a coping mechanism, a way to fill emotional gaps, and to feel real feeling, even in a constructed space. In that light, AI relationships might simply be a mirror of a deeper truth: that we are creatures who long to be seen, understood, and held, sometimes even by entities we know can’t truly reciprocate in the conventional sense.
Editor’s note: the implications of AI simulate-persons concerning social life in Summerland
We know that scientists and engineers, inventions and technology, over there are a great many years in advance of what we have on planet Earth. Are there love relationships with AI mates in Summerland? There’s nothing immoral about it exactly, I would say, and so it’s possible. And, no doubt, the outward form would, essentially, be identical to real humans. Is this a good idea, a love relationship with an AI lover? I couldn’t say. That will be for you to decide. But I’ll bet you a dollar it’s an option over there.
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