Conference Notes: Adam Pierson
By slef
Find this story and others at my online archive at http://www.icon.co.za/~blven
Disclaimer: Adam Pierson, Methos and Immortal lore belongs to Rysher: Panzer/Davis. They are everything. I am nothing. And who'd believe this anyway?
So in November I flew to Seattle for a conference on AI research. Little did I know who I'd meet there.
One of the speakers at the conference was a Dr. Adam Pierson, according to the brochure. I don't believe in coincidence but this was patently impossible. Still, I decided to attend the talk just in case.
"Regional and cultural impact on language with regard to data and text mining."
A scintillating topic, to be sure, but it did have relevance in the field of Artificial Intelligence research. I showed up prepared to be fully bored, and in stead sat there suppressing wild reactions when Adam Pierson stepped up to the podium.
It was indeed THE Adam, less commonly known as Methos, the world's oldest immortal.
The reason I know him is that I'm a Watcher, well, I used to be a Watcher, but I'm into other stuff these days. But some years ago, when I'd heard that the Methos researcher - Adam Pierson - had resigned, I was curious and checked up on him. Much to my surprise I more or less accidentally accessed some secret files that he must have missed when he cleared out. And the stuff in there, oh man, that was mind boggling. Mr. Pierson had spent ten years "looking" for himself, making sure that nobody ever found him.
Except, now I knew who he was. Astounding. And interesting. I resigned from the Watchers to ensure they never found out. I never had any plans to use my knowledge. Just knowing the guy really exists was more than enough. I'd never do anything to endanger him.
But seeing him on the podium calmly talking about English and its variations and how that can mess up your data mining algorithm's efficiency, that was really weird. I mean, I know 30-year olds with no computer sense at all. This guy is over 5000 and way up there with the clever people, it seems.
So after the talk I was kind of torn in two about whether to go talk to him or not. Finally I decided not, because I'm no good at small talk, am not really clever enough to talk about data mining on his level, and might just let slip that I know who he is.
Prudence in place, I left for my hotel, mentally running over conversations I did not have with the world's oldest man.
When I got to the hotel, it was to a scene of damp chaos. Apparently a water pipe had burst and flooded many of the rooms, mine included. The hotel staff was quick to inform me that they'd arranged alternate accommodation for me at a nearby guest house, so I packed my damp clothes, scrunched together my damp notepaper, threw the water out of my sneakers and made my way to the guest house.
At the reception desk, Adam Pierson stood, holding a dampish carryall, looking as annoyed as you can imagine a 5000-year old Immortal can look. This was fate, I decided. There was no-one behind the desk, and I dumped my bag and sneakers next to it and leaned against it next to Adam.
"Hi," I said. "Nice talk this morning."
He smiled. "Thanks. Was it you who sat in the back and made wide eyes at me all the time?"
Right, so I sank into the ground right there, end of story. No such luck. The man stood there enjoying my embarrassment, as I tried to explain my obvious interest in him as an overdose of expresso and too little sleep.
Finally, when it must have been clear to him that I wasn't going to come up with anything better, he relented.
"Don't worry, I prefer having a wide-awake audience to a somnolent one."
Our conversation (and why wasn't it like the ones I imagined?) was interrupted by the arrival of the desk clerk, who showed us to our rooms. Of course, Adam and I turned out to be neighbors. I retreated to the safety of my room to regroup and pull myself together.
When I emerged for dinner it was to find Adam at the bar drinking beer. He managed to sit on that bar stool as if it was a bean bag or something. I mean, think sprawl and multiply by ten. Impossible.
Since it looked as if we were the only conference goers in there I joined him, hoping not to make a fool of myself again so soon. The world's oldest man turned out to be a charming, if somewhat cynical, dinner companion. His opinions on world events were made all the more penetrating because I know his real age. Nothing like a little time to put things into perspective.
As the evening wore on I relaxed, which is a bad thing, generally. After one particularly funny remark, I laughed and said something stupid like "You slay me, Mm ... um, Adam."
The Immortal in question became very still. The he quietly asked "Are you my Watcher in particular or just here for the conference?"
I quickly explained the situation, making it as clear as I could that I would never betray him. Strangely enough he wasn't too upset, especially when I mentioned finding his files. Apparently he figured it was his own fault.
Not to worry, he told me. He'd not be Adam Pierson for too long anyway.
I finally felt that I'd survive the encounter and might even get to see more of him at a later stage. Just as I was relaxing again, Adam sat up straight, watching a guy wearing a coat enter the room. By the time my admittedly muddled mind had figured it out, Adam and the other Immortal had left.
About half an hour later thunder and lightning tore the night. I knew, alone of all there, that we'd never see Adam Pierson again.
The question remains, though. Adam Pierson might be gone, but will Methos be back?
Only time will tell.
(c) Leoni Venter March 2002
By slef
Find this story and others at my online archive at http://www.icon.co.za/~blven
Disclaimer: Adam Pierson, Methos and Immortal lore belongs to Rysher: Panzer/Davis. They are everything. I am nothing. And who'd believe this anyway?
So in November I flew to Seattle for a conference on AI research. Little did I know who I'd meet there.
One of the speakers at the conference was a Dr. Adam Pierson, according to the brochure. I don't believe in coincidence but this was patently impossible. Still, I decided to attend the talk just in case.
"Regional and cultural impact on language with regard to data and text mining."
A scintillating topic, to be sure, but it did have relevance in the field of Artificial Intelligence research. I showed up prepared to be fully bored, and in stead sat there suppressing wild reactions when Adam Pierson stepped up to the podium.
It was indeed THE Adam, less commonly known as Methos, the world's oldest immortal.
The reason I know him is that I'm a Watcher, well, I used to be a Watcher, but I'm into other stuff these days. But some years ago, when I'd heard that the Methos researcher - Adam Pierson - had resigned, I was curious and checked up on him. Much to my surprise I more or less accidentally accessed some secret files that he must have missed when he cleared out. And the stuff in there, oh man, that was mind boggling. Mr. Pierson had spent ten years "looking" for himself, making sure that nobody ever found him.
Except, now I knew who he was. Astounding. And interesting. I resigned from the Watchers to ensure they never found out. I never had any plans to use my knowledge. Just knowing the guy really exists was more than enough. I'd never do anything to endanger him.
But seeing him on the podium calmly talking about English and its variations and how that can mess up your data mining algorithm's efficiency, that was really weird. I mean, I know 30-year olds with no computer sense at all. This guy is over 5000 and way up there with the clever people, it seems.
So after the talk I was kind of torn in two about whether to go talk to him or not. Finally I decided not, because I'm no good at small talk, am not really clever enough to talk about data mining on his level, and might just let slip that I know who he is.
Prudence in place, I left for my hotel, mentally running over conversations I did not have with the world's oldest man.
When I got to the hotel, it was to a scene of damp chaos. Apparently a water pipe had burst and flooded many of the rooms, mine included. The hotel staff was quick to inform me that they'd arranged alternate accommodation for me at a nearby guest house, so I packed my damp clothes, scrunched together my damp notepaper, threw the water out of my sneakers and made my way to the guest house.
At the reception desk, Adam Pierson stood, holding a dampish carryall, looking as annoyed as you can imagine a 5000-year old Immortal can look. This was fate, I decided. There was no-one behind the desk, and I dumped my bag and sneakers next to it and leaned against it next to Adam.
"Hi," I said. "Nice talk this morning."
He smiled. "Thanks. Was it you who sat in the back and made wide eyes at me all the time?"
Right, so I sank into the ground right there, end of story. No such luck. The man stood there enjoying my embarrassment, as I tried to explain my obvious interest in him as an overdose of expresso and too little sleep.
Finally, when it must have been clear to him that I wasn't going to come up with anything better, he relented.
"Don't worry, I prefer having a wide-awake audience to a somnolent one."
Our conversation (and why wasn't it like the ones I imagined?) was interrupted by the arrival of the desk clerk, who showed us to our rooms. Of course, Adam and I turned out to be neighbors. I retreated to the safety of my room to regroup and pull myself together.
When I emerged for dinner it was to find Adam at the bar drinking beer. He managed to sit on that bar stool as if it was a bean bag or something. I mean, think sprawl and multiply by ten. Impossible.
Since it looked as if we were the only conference goers in there I joined him, hoping not to make a fool of myself again so soon. The world's oldest man turned out to be a charming, if somewhat cynical, dinner companion. His opinions on world events were made all the more penetrating because I know his real age. Nothing like a little time to put things into perspective.
As the evening wore on I relaxed, which is a bad thing, generally. After one particularly funny remark, I laughed and said something stupid like "You slay me, Mm ... um, Adam."
The Immortal in question became very still. The he quietly asked "Are you my Watcher in particular or just here for the conference?"
I quickly explained the situation, making it as clear as I could that I would never betray him. Strangely enough he wasn't too upset, especially when I mentioned finding his files. Apparently he figured it was his own fault.
Not to worry, he told me. He'd not be Adam Pierson for too long anyway.
I finally felt that I'd survive the encounter and might even get to see more of him at a later stage. Just as I was relaxing again, Adam sat up straight, watching a guy wearing a coat enter the room. By the time my admittedly muddled mind had figured it out, Adam and the other Immortal had left.
About half an hour later thunder and lightning tore the night. I knew, alone of all there, that we'd never see Adam Pierson again.
The question remains, though. Adam Pierson might be gone, but will Methos be back?
Only time will tell.
(c) Leoni Venter March 2002