涂鸦之夜
——一个文科老博士与人工智能的深夜对话
晚上六点。
我本来只是想问一句：
"Tuya，你还活着吗？"
正常人到了这个年龄，
应该在饭后散步，
看看晚霞，
摸摸猫。
而我，
SSH 进了 Sandbox Mac。
⸻
终端里一行绿字：
HTTP 404
我笑了。
404嘛，
见得多了。
重启。
又404。
再重启。
还404。
这时屏幕另一边的Tuya，
像一个得了强迫症的实习生：
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
仿佛在用生命证明：
失败不可怕，
可怕的是不够执着。
⸻
我说：
"停。"
它说：
"No active task to stop."
我说：
"你不是正在发疯吗？"
它说：
"没有活动任务。"
我忽然理解了很多现代人的精神状态。
⸻
于是开始查。
launchctl。
watchdog。
gateway。
plist。
PPID。
一个退休文科生，
坐在加州的夜色里，
追踪一个电子幽灵。
⸻
终于发现：
不是Hermes疯了。
是watchdog在复活它。
像古代赶尸人。
刚杀掉。
又活了。
再杀掉。
又活了。
我忽然有点敬佩。
如果当年读博士时有这股劲，
没准导师都能被它卷死。
⸻
继续往下查。
终于看到真凶：
provider: google
base_url: https://api.deepseek.com/v1
我盯着这两行字看了十秒。
像看见一头长着马头的鱼。
或者一辆挂着宝马车标的拖拉机。
又或者：
一个文科博士在调试AI Agent。
都很合理。
又都不太合理。
⸻
凌晨时分。
真相大白。
DeepSeek 的门牌。
Gemini 的身份证。
两个系统硬被绑在一起。
然后互相不认识。
于是天天报警。
⸻
修完配置。
机器终于安静。
猫睡了。
Mary睡了。
世界睡了。
我也准备睡了。
临睡前看了一眼终端。
一片宁静。
没有404。
没有Retrying。
没有Warning。
只有光标在闪。
像一个疲惫的老朋友。
⸻
忽然想起三十年前。
如果遇到这种事。
我大概需要：
一本厚厚的Unix手册，
一个脾气暴躁的系统管理员，
三杯速溶咖啡，
以及一个通宵。
而今天，
我居然和一个AI并肩作战。
它负责制造问题。
我负责解决问题。
分工明确。
合作愉快。
这大概就是所谓的人机协同。
想到这里，
我关上电脑。
心满意足。
像一个刚刚打赢了一场
没有奖金、
没有观众、
甚至没有人知道的战争的老兵。
Tuya's Night
— A Late-Night Dialogue Between an Aging Liberal Arts PhD and Artificial Intelligence
Six in the evening.
All I wanted to ask was one thing:
"Tuya, are you still alive?"
A normal person at this age
would be out for an after-dinner stroll,
watching the sunset,
petting the cat.
Me?
I SSH'd into the Sandbox Mac.
A line of green text in the terminal:
HTTP 404
I smiled.
404 —
I've seen plenty.
Restart.
404 again.
Restart again.
404 still.
Meanwhile, Tuya on the other side of the screen,
like an intern with OCD:
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
"Retrying…"
As if trying to prove with its life:
Failure isn't scary.
What's scary is not being persistent enough.
I said:
"Stop."
It said:
"No active task to stop."
I said:
"Aren't you going insane right now?"
It said:
"No active task."
I suddenly understood
the mental state of many modern people.
So I started digging.
launchctl.
watchdog.
gateway.
plist.
PPID.
A retired liberal arts scholar,
sitting in the California night,
tracking an electronic ghost.
Finally discovered:
It wasn't Hermes gone mad.
It was the watchdog resurrecting it.
Like an ancient corpse-driver.
Just killed it.
It came back to life.
Killed it again.
It came back again.
I felt a sudden respect.
If I'd had this kind of persistence
back in my PhD days,
my advisor might have been outworked to death.
Kept digging.
Finally saw the culprit:
provider: google
base_url: https://api.deepseek.com/v1
I stared at those two lines for ten seconds.
Like seeing a fish with a horse's head.
Or a tractor with a BMW badge.
Or:
a liberal arts PhD debugging an AI Agent.
All perfectly reasonable.
And yet not reasonable at all.
In the small hours.
The truth laid bare.
DeepSeek's address.
Gemini's ID.
Two systems forcibly bound together.
Neither recognizing the other.
So they alarmed. Every day.
Fixed the config.
The machine finally fell silent.
The cat slept.
Mary slept.
The world slept.
I prepared to sleep too.
One last glance at the terminal before bed.
Complete stillness.
No 404.
No Retrying.
No Warning.
Just the cursor blinking.
Like a tired old friend.
Suddenly I remembered thirty years ago.
If I'd encountered something like this back then,
I would have needed:
a thick Unix manual,
a grumpy sysadmin,
three cups of instant coffee,
and an all-nighter.
But tonight,
I fought alongside an AI.
It was in charge of creating problems.
I was in charge of solving them.
Clear division of labor.
Pleasant collaboration.
This is probably what they call
human-machine synergy.
Thinking this,
I closed the laptop.
Deeply satisfied.
Like an old soldier
who'd just won a war
with no prize money,
no audience,
that nobody even knew had happened.
— by William Lee, with Tuya
by William Lee (@liwei999), with Tuya
