A confused otter’s mumblings and rumblings

Friday, 10th February, 2006

Another title? You addict

Filed under: Humans — Otter @ 22:46

I’m ill today — or sick, if you prefer. It’s all semantics: the symptoms will probably be the same either way. So excuse the delusion: it’s not connected.

Lots of thoughts today on AI, as I defined it earlier in time. Goodness knows what any of them mean in practise. Bloody practice, always getting in the way. Why do we have to do anything any more? Why don’t we have assistants to do all the stuff we don’t want to? Anyone who thinks we’re rich is a fool — but anyone in the West who thinks they’re poor is just disgusting. I’d like to see them go to Africa without any money and blow their minds with real poverty, where human existence is totally different, and much less enjoyable for all that. If they turn out to like being infected with sundry diseases that in the Occident were dealt with decades ago, all well and good. It’ll be a very “long tail”, but I’m sure there’s someone out there. Maybe those that get to become kleptocrats.

I must stop a) complaining about things I can’t do anything about without the strong possibility of a myocardial infraction; b) dithering and blabbering; c) being ill/sick. None of these are likely to make me rich, and that’s what it’s all about, yes?

Sorry to write it in such a fashion (I can’t help it), but: Maybe not. Or at least not in the sense you, whatever you are, are very likely to have thought of, assuming you understand what the hell I’m talking about. You know the sense I mean, you comfortable idiot. For by developing AI for all tasks, we will be rich beyond compare. Nothing will cost us anything, and assuming that technology will have advanced to such a stage that we will be able to ask for anything we can dream of [including self-enhancements, you, which while a fine idea, are really only part of the “bigger picture” (you love those metaphors, don’t you, you ape? Yeah, you, reader. You. You’d support a fascist if they said the right metaphors at the right time, like an evil comedian, wouldn’t you? Wash your mouth out.)]. Although people will still complain and fuck (exclusively with other humans, if they can, mostly, probably, I hypothesise) and puke, they’ll be able to clean up the mess without any effort whatsoever.

Dystopia? Why? Because you want to control how other people behave, don’t you, even though it has nothing to do with you, right? You arrogant shit. Be an arrogant, patronising shit, fine, but at least admit it. I won’t think any less of you — it’s too late for that. It’ll just satisfy my silly hunger for honesty and accountability.

Wow, these tiny organisms are really affecting me, whatever I am. I keep forgetting about them, momentarily, because I can only think of one thing at a time. [Will be able to directly create AI with parallel processing powers? Or will we have to wait for our less functional AI to learn how to do it? I’m not taking bets, but you can give me stakes to look after, if you like].

I want to write something about writing, partly because I can, and partly because I know I can, and partly for other reasons [I think that covers all the reasons, as it were]. But I should do so in another post, for other reasons, or maybe the same ones by description. It’s really not that interesting. Move along. Continue your easy life dished to you on a non-existent plate. Go on. Shoo. We’ve reached the end.

But it took me so long to find that word (you know the one, literal literal smartass), that I can’t be bothered any more. One post should be enough. Do something useful until I tell you to stop. [And you’re unlikely to ever know if I wrote these words in the order you read them, no matter in what order you read them. Isn’t that wonderful, and scary, and dizzy-making? Who told you to stop doing something useful?]

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