I have some subscriptions expiring soon that I canāt financially justify anymore so Iām on that article grind and for I suppose sadomasochistic reason many of these articles have been about ai and I simply canāt get behind these overeducated assholes proposing it has any humane, beneficial qualities at all. (It is quite literally inhuman.) the main argument always seems to be efficiency or offloading the emotional labor of navigating your own life and an argument that essentially boils down to āfuck the elderly and disabled leave them alone isolated in their homes or institutions with their screens and an algorithm fed on bigoted rhetoric that hates themā. You have to keep the whimsy to remember the time ai saves you is worth nothing if it keeps you from your friends and family and passions and general Ć©lan vital. (Also that nothing is worth the environmental racism, air pollution, and quickening towards the water wars necessitated by data processing centers.) in the scope of universal relativity, the laws of physics, space and time, string theory probably, it is a miracle that any of our consciousnesses have been realized as a tangible collection of cells cloaked in flesh moving around on the single life sustaining planet we know of among one another, each individual their own fantastical miracle at the crosshairs of time and space. That you are ever anywhere with another person has cosmic implications. Whimsy and recognizing the secular miracle of existing is what makes it all mean anything. They want us to forget our miracle of being and sign our time and eyesight over to the ai that further resigns you to the hustle culture normalizing three jobs to afford food and shelter. Mortality makes your life mean something but death in itself is meaningless. It is cruel and random. Itās the life that matters, not the moment it ceases.Take that hammer for your brothers and sisters, remember however gooey you feel inside is the same solubility everyone always feels shifting inside, and it is that persistent threat of dissolution and navigating the slick tumbleweed in each of us that makes us human, that keeps the poets employed. The confusion of being alive is paramount to the human condition, and the clinical precision of ai obfuscates the beauty of being alive with other people. If you prick us we bleed! Heaven is each other, etc. Reject binary codes and techno-fascist yes-men. Iāll show you my ooz and you might see yourself in the leaking I canāt contain. Maybe we can ooze together in a Francis Bacon, Queer (2024) sort of way.