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Yes, how to live is a topugh one
Can machines think? Depends on what you mean by think.
But, no, not really.
I guess I’m still surprised/interested in how badly the AI/Wired/technophile crowd wants this to be a real possibility. It’s as if once we determine there’s nothing fundamentally unique about being human, we’ll be able to turn to...what exactly?
- 2/26/2006 10:11:07 PM |
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Deepth Doughts
#5: One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
More, so many more.
- 2/22/2006 9:51:00 PM |
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More pet peeves
Yes, this is going to be one of those whiny bitch-fests, so skip it if it’s going to lead you to leave some "Man, you’re negative" comments b/c I have my wife to tell me I’m really negative and I love her. I don’t love you.
Tolerate. I tolerate you.
- When you go to a restaurant and the waiter/waitress asks you "Have you ever been to [fill in restaurant name] before?" Like they have some special way of preparing/serving food that is so beyond the pale of anything you’ve ever experienced that they have to explain it to you in a series of hyperbolic and yet mundane announcements. Like they’ve revolutionzied eating to the point that you’re going to be spinning around in your chair upside down while midgets come out and cook your food with their feet. Except they haven’t. They’re just going to explain the level of spiciness in their sauces.
- Any and all emails I receive from the monolith known as Texas State. I swear to God, the MFA emails are the most worthless piece of shit emails I get in my whole day and I get like twelve of them. About half of them announce some worthless poetry prize. The other half announce a worthless fiction prize. If I wanted to PAY TO HAVE MY GODDAMN WRITING JUDGED, I’d hire an editor. Oh wait, I’m already paying. Yeah, I could really use a chapbook or a subscription to PISS ON FIRE literary journal. Thanks. Could we maybe combine all these emails into one email? Have it say something like "Random Shit That People Have Sent Me Today."
- That guy from Lost. You know the one.
- When somebody comes by my cube and asks me if I’ve seen somebody who doesn’t sit right next to me and isn’t in my clear line of view since, well, I have a cube and I don’t have a camera installed in everyone’s cube, monitoring their comings and goings. But, if you want to cough up some money, we could have that arranged.
- The notes we get from the boys’ school. Combined with the MFA emails, these work to undo whatever shred of sanity I still have by the time I get home. I’m going to offer this up as advice to teachers everywhere who think that sending home a pink piece of paper with a picture of a bear and an announcment like "Pictures coming up. $15." makes any sense whatsoever. When? Do you need a check? Made payable to who? Start off with the basics. In fact, have a little template that you work up in Mac Word. It could go something like this:
WHEN THE FUCK?
WHERE?
HOW MUCH MONEY WE’RE BILKING YOU FOR THIS TIME (combined with a running total of how much money you’ve asked for over the course of the school year):
IF YOU MISS THIS THING, HERE’S HOW IT IMPORTANT IT IS ON A SCALE OF 1-10:
Also, try to get it to me, oh, let’s say more than one day before the whatever-the-crap is going to happen.
- The Ranger Soccer fields. Is that not positioned in the worst possible place in the whole world? I mean, I’m being totally serious. That is the Bermuda triangle of Austin. It’s impossible to find and when you do finally get there, you can’t get out.
- The Soup Peddler. Who is this creepy guy? I really want to buy soup from some proto-hippie who rides around on his bike leaving a trail of patchouli stink. No, no. I kid. I love the Soup Peddler. He’s hip! He’s capitalist! He’s sustainable! Pretty soon there will be thousands of soup peddlers all over town, waiting on their bikes in your front yard, making you feel better about yourself, food and Austin. There will be Soup Peddler franchises in places like Amarillo and Galveston. All you need is a bike and these strange, delicioso recipes. We’ll do for soup what Starbucks did for coffee. $15 for a cup of soup! And we pay the third world farmers double for the gaspacho beans! I’m going to order some
Sichuan Carrot Soup for tomorrow. | |