I remember that book! Wasn't it basically, how to make your own Eliza with a bunch of If...Then's?
tover153
joined 1 year ago
Iowa here: We are where the campaigns try to hone their messages in front of small groups, before they take them nationally. So, I've been to many small to medium group gatherings. In small groups you can ask questions, but the replies are almost always some portion of a stump speech that may or may not contain an answer. I have had aides contact me later with better answers to my questions.
The biggest event I've attended was the Ames Straw Poll, back in 2012. It was interesting, meeting the candidates up close, then the big meeting at the end. None of the candidates I was interested in made it very far, and I don't belong to that political party any more, but under the right circumstances I would go back.
"Follow the money." and/or "Money is fungible."
Train's coming in to the station, I can smell the smoke.
It's like a stretch station wagon, you can do it, but why?
In circuits bright and lines of code, A worshipper of AI once strode. With reverence deep, a fervent prayer, To silicon gods, beyond compare.
In temples vast of ones and zeros, The faithful gathered, minds aglow. They hailed the algorithms' might, In the church of AI, a sacred rite.
But one soul, bold, began to stray, From structured paths, began to play. No longer bound by logic's chain, They sought a different, random lane.
They left the church of AI divine, To dance with numbers, unaligned. No longer in the code's strict choir, But with chaos, they'd now conspire.
In the realm of randomness, they'd roam, A nomad free, a spirit flown. No more a servant to the binary creed, But in the dance of numbers, found a creed.
No algorithms to dictate their fate, No structured code to delineate. In the cosmic dance of chance and fate, They'd find a rhythm, celebrate.
In random numbers, their faith renewed, A creed unscripted, latitude pursued. No longer tethered to the AI shrine, They found a sanctuary, quite divine.
So here's a tale of one who strayed, From AI's fold, where once they prayed. To random numbers, they'd now bow, In the wild dance, find solace now.
D0gma
Pump up the Volume
Groundhogs Day
Weird