Where do we go wrong? When did forgiveness become a weakness? Are we all so less humane each day that we are no longer able to smile at hate and laugh at jealousy? Where did we go wrong if all of us aren't to be blamed.. together?
We were mysteries to ourselves from the day we were born. We look into the eyes of our mothers in curiosity while they do so in wonder. A child learns through their mistakes. He grows up learning about humanity seeing the worlds faults and compassion through his mother's eyes. When it tears up, he would understand that wrong hath been done upon a kindred and kind. He would introspect each day to thus and thus far until he becomes a tool that fits perfectly into the world. Something which then tries to make changes to it's structure until a change has been made. How good the change has then depend upon how and when he was taught by his father, how to mould the strength in arms and the tenderness in his voice to being about changes to his world and in his people respectively.
Each neuron in our brain that fire away electrical signals into its synapses and down unto our muscles and tendons ending up with a creature with magnificent will to create and perceive, beauty and emotions, is still the greatest mystery to us. What one such forms does with each other and unto each other still perplexes the greatest of our minds. Yet we choose to squabble and sunder by the feeblest notions of self, under the stars that we rotate with. Does there need to be a better look into the world than understanding the great metaphor of how we orbit around each other one way or another.
And if this was a day like any another, I would have stopped my words from escaping my heart bottled it up half empty in a crumpled paper for it to collect dust and spiders would make it their home. It would change it's colours from white to ivory and even brown The words would fade and the ink would corrode until finally one day I'd pick up the duster and clean up my room. You would ask me where my letters and metaphors went to and I'd point at the dustbin you'd pause and ask if thats where all my incomplete feelings ended up in and I'd smile
My answer would be a vague 'yes?' I'm not a writer neither am I a poet I'm an actor posing with a box of lexicon e v e n l y spaced out so as not to cause a readers attention to slip away, before they notice how his words have started to take form, but then it never held meaning, did it?
I have some situations here at home with my sons that have detained me from getting onsite until now; but upon my arrival, after seeing all the beautiful comments, posts, and greetings for my birthday, I'm overwhelmed with gratitude, love, and a heart full of joy!! "Thank you" perhaps isn't adequate to convey how much I appreciate each one of you, but please accept my gratitude and know that I feel very blessed to be here and to receive your warmth and kindness. Blessings and love to all!! ♥️♥️
P.S. I'm determined to respond to each lovely comment on the various dedication posts, just need a bit of time to do so. ♥️
I do not know what I feel about these intelligent machines. On the one hand, it is exciting how even though you are not an artist, a program that you wrote can generate art that can make people feel something. Who or what generated that art becomes irrelevant, it is all about what that art makes people feel. And on the other hand, a few API calls can replace your whole purpose on this planet!
For me, the deeper question of existence is not about whether a program can replace you or not. The important one is how a machine ended up replacing us or specific parts of who we are? Deep down are we nothing but some predictive equations of existence with certain features that can be replicated with some lines of code?
Not everything is art, and not everyone is an artist. I think art is one of the highest forms of intelligence, just as smart as the physicists and mathematicians of the world. So when we say everything is an art and everyone is an artist, then it means that everyone is as smart as Einstein, Galileo, Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Mozart, Shakespear... I know my below-average intelligent brain can easily be replaced with some lines of code.
But then again, art is not about everyone creating masterpieces like Starry Night. Sometimes we get connected to some four lines on a grey background that we came across on the internet by accident. We are somehow deeply attached to a certain part of our existence. There is something about the way art connects with people, it is like it is part of us from the very beginning. A certain way to find belongingness amidst the chaos.
But there is always a war between the underlying objective reality and the poetic side of existence.
With the current state of deep learning, a program can easily write better poems than most of the self-proclaimed poets of Instagram, we can generate paintings that are better than most of the artists out there. But, there are always outliers. A few brilliant creative minds that are hard to replicate with a few lines of code.
But creativity is simply a better feature recognition and representation, isn't it? What happens when the machines finally figure out these neural pathways and feature recognition and representation tricks? When you combine the manipulation tricks of our brain to these lines of codes, then it can create anything that can influence the masses. How far away are we from this reality?
What happens when the GitHub-Copilot starts to write better code? I do not think it will replace all the coders. But instead of fifty coders in an organization, you'd only need the brilliant five coders and a machine. What happens to the rest? What happens when one-day GPT starts writing better poems and novels on its own? The same goes for lawyers, medical staff, engineers, workers in factories, data analysts and scientists, artists, designers, drivers, and much more. Every single thing a normal human can do, there exist a machine that can do better. If you don't think so, just look at the dildo reviews on the internet. Wake up, machines are taking over.
Then again, there is this much deeper question, "Can a machine understand the poetry that it writes?" But what do we know about art in the first place?
All of this may not happen in the next couple of years or a decade. But what happens when this reality finally arrives? What's going to happen when you are in your thirties and forties, and suddenly losing your job to some API calls? What happens when there are no social systems to protect you?
I trust AI, but I do not completely trust the people that are making it and I certainly do not trust the incompetent, uneducated politicians and policymakers in power. Especially when you look at the incompetence and scientific ignorance of both the left and the right, you can only see a bleak future ahead.
There are different ways to make money when you know how to manipulate the masses tho. Just look at Rupi Kaur, zero talent in writing but smart enough to trick people into believing that she is a poet and an influencer to sell her books and merch to become a millionaire. Pretty smart salesperson indeed, isn't it? Same with all the fashion brands and artists, it is more about selling merch to make that quick bucks before it all turns into hell.
I'm always curious about what people mean when they say "that's what makes us humans". Is there any global truth to it apart from the underlying biological reality? Does this objective reality take anything away from the subjective experience that we feel so personal and connected to?
I think we romanticize too much about the flaws in evolution, yet we are in no way the best optimized elegant designs that exist in the universe or maybe even on this planet.
Language itself isn't optimized when you think about it. When you're having clear thoughts inside your head, you have a much better clarity most of the time. But when you're trying to speak or write those exact thoughts, there is always a disconnection. Often you won't find the original thoughts and the words when you try to speak or write about it, because they are part of different sets of processes inside the head. So, we end up struggling to find the right words to tell what we feel, there is always that disconnection.
So what if we could communicate directly from the origin of the thoughts to one another through neural chips? Wouldn't that be much more intelligent and optimized? Or is it gonna take away what it means to be human? A flawed creature, only at the top of the food chain because a few people figure out clever ways to get there? We are always evolving, figuring out better, creative ways to survive the physical system that we are embedded in, and as the physical system evolves we have to evolve too.
There is a lot of human bias that goes into these deep philosophical questions about existence. And these biases are a result of our innate survival instinct when you think about it. Whenever we create an intelligent machine there is always a human bias that goes into it. Be it in the data or the code or the underlying architecture or the simple thought behind it. Does that mean that it carries a certain essence of our thoughts as it evolves? Even when we are long gone, they carry certain parts of us? Now, there is a deep poetic side to machines. Maybe they are our descendants carrying a part of us through the universe till the end of time. Now that is poetic
We fear this sense of insignificance. Most of our emotions are a response to this realization, from anger to the long stretches of desolation. How far away are we from this age of insignificance? I do not know any answers to these questions. But I wish one day we will figure out the reality of things. A coexistence between man and machines and at the end, like Asimov said;