Every so often, I open up one of Douglas Hofstadter's books and take a crack at reading it.  I've never succeeded in polishing one off start to finish, though.  Moreover, I'll admit that the material that does sink in might take me two or three passes to really get the gist of it.  But what I appreciate most when it comes to Hofstadter's work is the fact that it consistently pushes me to approach things from an unconventional perspective.  His material is "thought provoking" in the most basic sense of the phrase; not because it elicits a brief moment of insight or a fleeting emotional response but because the work compels the reader to ponder and reflect on concepts that are both simple and multifaceted.

Such was my experience as I recently reviewed Chapter 19 of Hofstadter's most popular book, Gödel, Escher, Bach. This chapter examines the prospect of artificial intelligence (AI), largely in the context of basic cognitive processes.  Of particular interest to me was the portion of the chapter which deals with Bongard problems.  At first, it was difficult for me to appreciate these "puzzles" as anything other than some kind of eclectic inside joke.1  However, after a good deal of subsequent reading in GEB and on the 'net, I got the general idea and before long, I decided to take a crack at drawing up a Bongard problem of my own.

Below is my original Bongard problem.  As an added bonus, I've included a small batch of clues in verse form.  I won't be upset if anyone labels this as "eclectic" or if folks say that it's just not very good, but I will be slightly pissed if someone nails it in under five minutes.




Saturn Devouring His Son
by Francisco Goya
Across the Styx and Descending

Arguments and angry thoughts,  
Churlish chides in fights well fought;
Undermining peaceful time,  
Telling tales of woe and crime.
Eating beast and folk alike;  
Absalom…atop the pike…  
None dare stand against the storm!
Godlings, flee—pray change your form!
Leave this place; avert thine eyes,
Emerge, great Saturn—claim thy prize!


1.  I've long regarded the label of "eclecticism" as something of a pejorative, even well before I read Lenin's thoughts on eclecticism (I'll compile a list of examples someday).  A high school English teacher once read one of my poems aloud to the class and when she finished, she folded her hands in her lap and said, "This is what we call an eclectic poem.  That's because nobody understands it but the author."  Feh.