Wat’s Carbon Water-N-Stuff Thread - Concepts In Iron And Wood!!!

At last, there is hope for the Lit Libturd lonely hearts club wankers:


https://www.newyorker.com/culture/t...bcc5&esrc=MARTECH_ORDERFORM&mbid=CRMNYR012019



Your A.I. Lover Will Change You​

A future where many humans are in love with bots may not be far off. Should we regard them as training grounds for healthy relationships or as nihilistic traps?
By Jaron Lanier
March 22, 2025


Is it important that your lover be a biological human instead of an A.I. or a robot, or will even asking this question soon feel like an antiquated prejudice? This uncertainty is more than a transient meme storm. If A.I. lovers are normalized a little—even if not for you personally—the way you live will be changed.

Does this notion disturb you? That’s part of the point. In the tech industry, we often speak of A.I. as if it were a person and of people as if they might become obsolete when A.I. and robots surpass them, which, we say, might occur remarkably soon. This type of thinking is sincere, and it is also lucrative. Attention is power in the internet-mediated world we techies have built. What better way to get attention than to prick the soul with an assertion that it may not exist? Many, maybe most, humans hold on to the hope that more is going on in this life than can be made scientifically apparent. A.I. rhetoric can cut at the thread of speculation that an afterlife might be possible, or that there is something beyond mechanism behind the eyes.

Until the recent rise of A.I, it was fashionable to claim that consciousness was an illusion or, perhaps, an ambient property of everything in reality—in either case, not special. Such dismissiveness has become less common (perhaps because techies still believe that tech entrepreneurs are special). Consciousness is lately treated as something precious and real, to be conquered by tech: our A.I.s and robots are to achieve consciousness.


And so on . . . .
 
“The wilderness once offered men a plausible way of life," the doctor said. "Now it functions as a psychiatric refuge. Soon there will be no wilderness." He sipped at his bourbon and ice. "Soon there will be no place to go. Then the madness becomes universal." Another thought. "And the universe goes mad.”

~ Edward Abbey
 
When the cities are gone, he thought, and all the ruckus has died away, when sunflowers push up through the concrete and asphalt of the forgotten interstate freeways, when the Kremlin and the Pentagon are turned into nursing homes for generals, presidents and other such shitheads, when the glass-aluminum skyscraper tombs of Phoenix Arizona barely show above the sand dunes, why then, why then, why then by God maybe free men and wild women on horses, free women and wild men, can roam the sagebrush canyonlands in freedom—goddammit!—herding the feral cattle into box canyons, and gorge on bloody meat and bleeding fucking internal organs, and dance all night to the music of fiddles! banjos! steel guitars! by the light of a reborn moon!—by God, yes! Until, he reflected soberly, and bitterly, and sadly, until the next age of ice and iron comes down, and the engineers and the farmers


~ Edward Abbey
 
As far as the therapy is concerned, (Sir Isaac) Newton writes that

"the best is a toad suspended by the legs in a chimney for three days, which at last vomited up earth with various insects in it, on to a dish of yellow wax, and shortly after died. Combining powdered toad with the excretions and serum made into lozenges and worn about the affected area drove away the contagion and drew out the poison".


https://i.pinimg.com/736x/80/30/86/803086864a72419870ec2a2c1f315503.jpg
 
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