Provocative and timely piece. Since I am Old School, a song from the past started playing in my head as I read this. Which one? "Feel Like a Number" by Bob Seger.
You definitely had me in the beginning wanting to smash my phone and then somehow convinced me I can indeed continue through contradictions, the machine won't predict me or define me. Yet maybe that's what it wants through you, ugh 😩 haha
I think that ai is teaching us the humanity is just a biological machine. But also the within the cold process of all energy and matter, there is a ghost in the machine, a consciousness, a will. 👽 👾
I just started a Manhattan project for bipolar and posted my first hypothesis. Thank you Mr computer. I'm not talking about solving everything and everyone, I'm talking about the ones who leave, which is unacceptable and omelas.
But according to definitions of algorhythms they do not apply to predictions involving words, books, human thought even public relations. Heuristics do apply more to such fields. The algorhythm may be a superstition or man made fantasy of infinity, like in Borges’ “library of Alexandria.”
I’ve read this thrice. Each time your words work their prophetic lament and call to revolt deeper into my soul. I really enjoy reading you reading the world.
You are wonderful at naming idols. Technology as the destination of human longing (worship) with empty promise to elevate us from our mortal finitude. That’s the one in this post! Well carved.
I have a recommendation.
There is an unholy trinity among us. Technology, market, and self. These devouring beasts give birth to many other idol offspring; the nation state, celebrity, materialism, etc. but tech, market, and self are the modern godhead. All of them erode our humanity with misplaced love.
I would enjoy reading part two and three for self and market. I think there is so much to explore there.
Excellent piece. Thank you I am only pasting one paragraph in the hope that those who read the whole essay, will stop and re-read THE ILLUSION OF INVISIBILITY.
Here’s the cruel joke: the machines are always wrong, yet never in doubt. They claim omniscience while reducing your hunger for meaning to a “wellness app subscription,” your loneliness to a target demographic: “Single, 28–35, prone to existential streaming.” (You! Yes, you. I’m talking to you). And still, you dance for them! You dull your edges, swallow the unprofitable truth, code-switch for bots, rehearsing a self palatable to their brittle imagination.
Who haunts whom?
You, the trembling ascetic, starve your soul to feed their databases.
Once, men hid from gods; now, they hide from algorithms. But what do you fear? Exposure? Or the terrifying freedom of being unseen? The machine’s “certainty” is a farce: a hall of mirrors reflecting its own biases. Yet you cling to its lies, preferring the comfort of its errors to the vertigo of autonomy. What is this if not the will to weakness? The Übermensch would shatter their mirrors, roar into the void, and laugh at their metrics. But you? You curate. You comply. You apologize. How long before you see: the ghost is not in the machine. You are the ghost, haunting yourself.
If you tire of writing these, move on. You are allowed to grow beyond that which you once were.
Is it the theme or the style that you now regret?
I am sorry you dread writing these now. They are powerful. But I commit to reading your longer-form, less polemic work.
Provocative and timely piece. Since I am Old School, a song from the past started playing in my head as I read this. Which one? "Feel Like a Number" by Bob Seger.
You definitely had me in the beginning wanting to smash my phone and then somehow convinced me I can indeed continue through contradictions, the machine won't predict me or define me. Yet maybe that's what it wants through you, ugh 😩 haha
Terrific.
Maybe we need some modern Markov Cheney characters (illuminates trilogy) to stir the pot.
I think that ai is teaching us the humanity is just a biological machine. But also the within the cold process of all energy and matter, there is a ghost in the machine, a consciousness, a will. 👽 👾
Bro, I'm logging a formal complaint.
I just started a Manhattan project for bipolar and posted my first hypothesis. Thank you Mr computer. I'm not talking about solving everything and everyone, I'm talking about the ones who leave, which is unacceptable and omelas.
Conceptual framework can/must subsume brute force ai. Computer helping. Humans annoying.
Much love! Keep up the power of your writing.
But according to definitions of algorhythms they do not apply to predictions involving words, books, human thought even public relations. Heuristics do apply more to such fields. The algorhythm may be a superstition or man made fantasy of infinity, like in Borges’ “library of Alexandria.”
Powerful.
I feel you. The nécessity still for this. I thank you.
You may not like writing these, maybe there is a secret in that, this is a very clear transmission and rather excellent.
I’ve read this thrice. Each time your words work their prophetic lament and call to revolt deeper into my soul. I really enjoy reading you reading the world.
You are wonderful at naming idols. Technology as the destination of human longing (worship) with empty promise to elevate us from our mortal finitude. That’s the one in this post! Well carved.
I have a recommendation.
There is an unholy trinity among us. Technology, market, and self. These devouring beasts give birth to many other idol offspring; the nation state, celebrity, materialism, etc. but tech, market, and self are the modern godhead. All of them erode our humanity with misplaced love.
I would enjoy reading part two and three for self and market. I think there is so much to explore there.
Market as neoliberal ideology
Self as individual spawn of the enlightenment.
What say you?
Peace friend.
Excellent piece. Thank you I am only pasting one paragraph in the hope that those who read the whole essay, will stop and re-read THE ILLUSION OF INVISIBILITY.
Here’s the cruel joke: the machines are always wrong, yet never in doubt. They claim omniscience while reducing your hunger for meaning to a “wellness app subscription,” your loneliness to a target demographic: “Single, 28–35, prone to existential streaming.” (You! Yes, you. I’m talking to you). And still, you dance for them! You dull your edges, swallow the unprofitable truth, code-switch for bots, rehearsing a self palatable to their brittle imagination.
Who haunts whom?
You, the trembling ascetic, starve your soul to feed their databases.
Once, men hid from gods; now, they hide from algorithms. But what do you fear? Exposure? Or the terrifying freedom of being unseen? The machine’s “certainty” is a farce: a hall of mirrors reflecting its own biases. Yet you cling to its lies, preferring the comfort of its errors to the vertigo of autonomy. What is this if not the will to weakness? The Übermensch would shatter their mirrors, roar into the void, and laugh at their metrics. But you? You curate. You comply. You apologize. How long before you see: the ghost is not in the machine. You are the ghost, haunting yourself.
https://www.torproject.org/
https://onionshare.org/