"Emulate. Emulate? What's that? Hey, Max. What's emulate?
Hey Max, c'mon back to Earth. Emulate what?"
Max jolted back to reality. "Oh, copy. You know, act like.
Emulate. Don't they teach you emulation during sex education in
France?" They both thought that that was the funniest thing
ever said, in any language for all of written and pre-history.
The substance of the evening's conversation went downhill from there.
A few days later Max came by Pierre's loft. "I been thinking."
"Scary thought. About what?" Pierre didn't look up from his
Apple.
"About emulating thought. You know what we were talking about the other night."
"I can't remember this morning much less getting shit faced with you the other night."
"You were going on and on about machines thinking. Remember?"
"Yes," Pierre lied.
"Well, I've been thinking about it." Max had a remarkable ability to recover from an evening of illicit recreation. He could actually grasp the germ of a stoned idea and let a straight mind deal with it the following day. "And, I maybe got a way to do what you want."