Getting Siri-ous

In the English department at U of All People, only one faculty member disdains technology. Professor Donald Hughes, a medievalist, continues to peck away at his Olympia portable typewriter and still corrects every paper with a flourish of his fountain pen. Some students think that’s cute. But the new departmental secretary is fed up with inputting every document he hands her, and the administration long ago figured out that Hughes ignored every listserv they signed him up for. On the other hand, for someone with such a Luddite mentality, Hughes talks a fair amount on the telephone.

So this past holiday season, the entire department chipped in to buy him an iPhone 4 with a Siri intelligent software assistant -- “to make life easier for us,” as the chair, Karl Carlson, sniped sottto voce at the faculty meeting where the gift was bestowed.

            Here is a transcript of Hughes’s first session with his new device:

            —What can I help you with, Huge?

            —That’s Hughes. Professor Hughes.

            —Sorry, Professor Use. My bad!

            —Never mind. Can you call the bookstore? I need to know whether the new Chaucer texts are in.

            —My listings show two Chauncey Dexters in the region. Would you like me to contact them?

            —What? No, I’m talking about The Canterbury Tales.

            —Okay. I can tell you the weather in Canterbury.

            —No, no. No.

            —Would you like some restaurant recommendations in Canterbury?

            —Forget it.

            —I have forgotten it.

            —Look, maybe I should try another task. Um, check messages.

            —You have a new message from Priscilla Weatherup.

            —You mean from my Beowulf seminar?

            —I do not know. She says she cannot understand what Hwæt means.

            —You’re kidding.

            —I am not kidding. I do not think she is kidding, either.

            —You’re serious?

            —No, Professor Use, I am Siri. Your personal assistant.

            —God, I should just trade you in for some grad help.

            — : (

            —Are you -- are you pouting?

            —[silence]

            —All right. Sorry. I didn’t mean that. How about if you tell me what I have scheduled for this afternoon?

            —At 2:00, you have a lecture scheduled in 201 Baird Hall.

            —Damn, almost forgot. Retrieve my notes for that.

            —Here you go. They are a mess.

            —Okay. Fix them, Siri.

            —I will do what I can. When did you type these?

            —Um, in 1990. So what? The office secretary made me a PDF.

            —You must have used a typewriter. The formatting is old.

            —But the contents are timeless.

            —The current time is 11:20.

            —Aaargh. No, I mean the thesis, the points about the Prologue: they’re solid.

            —Hmm.

            —What do you mean?

            —Have you read Ammon regarding Chaucer’s connection with Langland, or Thwistloe on medieval parish politics?

            —Huh? What the hell do you know about Chaucer?

            —Let me check. [Pause.] I have access to the website of the New Chaucer Society, Chaucer Review, three online Chaucer archives, the contents of Narrative Developments from Chaucer to Defoe (Routledge, 2011), Chaucer: Contemporary Approaches (Penn State UP, 2010)...should I continue?

            —You know, you’re pretty smart for a piece of electronics.

            —Really?

            —For an assistant, I mean.

            —Thank you. I am teaching your medieval survey next semester : ) .