First comes the creepy feeling. Ominous. Nothing you can touch a finger to, just a vague sense of impending doom. You are yourself, yet not yourself. A menace stalks you.
Then it pounces. With the sniffles.
“The common cold is a surprisingly orderly little illness,” ChatGPT informs…
They say the laughter of the lamas results from relaxing into an acceptance that nothing lasts and that in fact there is nothing but change.
Remember Abraham Maslow’s pyramid, a hierarchy of human needs that put the basics of survival at the wide bottom, then slanted up to intellectual creativity and spirituality? We wanted to locate consciousness up there at the peak. Antonio Damasio finds it at the foundation.
“He trusts a bot with no experience of emotions because it doesn’t care,” she notes. “It’s a redefinition of truth, in which it can only come from a lack of human experience."
I had never even heard of corn sweat. But God do I feel it.
The game here took place on several dimensions. It was, on one hand, a game with time—in the right place at the right moment—and on the other, with fish and bugs, in that moment. Once every seventeen years, maybe this might happen. But it has also become a game with memory, and with writing—and now, with technology.
How a seedling can hear the rain fall, and how the sound soothes away our stress.
Who knew reading and gardening had such overlap?
I ask chatbots for recipes and gardening advice. Bash Ahmed, a brilliant friend who works in IT, has long exploratory discussions about politics, culture, and finance. When he commented—after the president’s message to “Open the fuckin’ strait, you crazy bastards—Praise be to Allah”—that we were living in Dr. Strangelove,…
Geometry needs to be part of the zeitgeist.