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feminist-space · 6 months ago

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"Balaji’s death comes three months after he publicly accused OpenAI of violating U.S. copyright law while developing ChatGPT, a generative artificial intelligence program that has become a moneymaking sensation used by hundreds of millions of people across the world.

Its public release in late 2022 spurred a torrent of lawsuits against OpenAI from authors, computer programmers and journalists, who say the company illegally stole their copyrighted material to train its program and elevate its value past $150 billion.

The Mercury News and seven sister news outlets are among several newspapers, including the New York Times, to sue OpenAI in the past year.

In an interview with the New York Times published Oct. 23, Balaji argued OpenAI was harming businesses and entrepreneurs whose data were used to train ChatGPT.

“If you believe what I believe, you have to just leave the company,” he told the outlet, adding that “this is not a sustainable model for the internet ecosystem as a whole.”

Balaji grew up in Cupertino before attending UC Berkeley to study computer science. It was then he became a believer in the potential benefits that artificial intelligence could offer society, including its ability to cure diseases and stop aging, the Times reported. “I thought we could invent some kind of scientist that could help solve them,” he told the newspaper.

But his outlook began to sour in 2022, two years after joining OpenAI as a researcher. He grew particularly concerned about his assignment of gathering data from the internet for the company’s GPT-4 program, which analyzed text from nearly the entire internet to train its artificial intelligence program, the news outlet reported.

The practice, he told the Times, ran afoul of the country’s “fair use” laws governing how people can use previously published work. In late October, he posted an analysis on his personal website arguing that point.

No known factors “seem to weigh in favor of ChatGPT being a fair use of its training data,” Balaji wrote. “That being said, none of the arguments here are fundamentally specific to ChatGPT either, and similar arguments could be made for many generative AI products in a wide variety of domains.”

Reached by this news agency, Balaji’s mother requested privacy while grieving the death of her son.

In a Nov. 18 letter filed in federal court, attorneys for The New York Times named Balaji as someone who had “unique and relevant documents” that would support their case against OpenAI. He was among at least 12 people — many of them past or present OpenAI employees — the newspaper had named in court filings as having material helpful to their case, ahead of depositions."

#whistleblower #open ai whistleblower #open ai #suchir balaji #may his memory be a blessing

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maxwellatoms · 1 year ago

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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

#maxwell atoms #animation industry #grim reaper

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smithjohnk02 · 11 months ago

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Artificial Intelligence Assignment Help provides specialized assistance in tackling AI-related tasks, catering to students and professionals seeking in-depth understanding and practical application support. Our expert team offers guidance on machine learning algorithms, neural networks, natural language processing, and AI ethics, ensuring comprehensive comprehension and skill development. From programming assignments to theoretical frameworks, we offer bespoke solutions that enhance understanding and academic performance.

#artificial intelligence assignment help #artificial intelligence homework help #artificial intelligence for assignment

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natanielkovack · 4 months ago

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I love to tell you stories but I can't remember how they end!

Tenya Iida x ADHD! Reader

You've been dating Tenya for a while, but even before that he had noticed the way you struggle to pay attention, stay still, concentrate, study and how you get sudden waves of energy throughout the day, ending tired and even grumpy!

When you opened to him and told him how you have ADHD his mind clicked, understanding most of your actions!

‌Tenya would be so understanding. The moment you tell him about your problems concentrating, the way your brain sends random waves of energy over just to end up tired and how it impacts your everyday life he is quick to learn as much as he can about it, asking people around him if they have similar experiences and how they regulate themselves (Denki is his principal source aside from you).

You take medications?

‌If you take medication, he would made sure to draw you a schedule for them, adding water intake and multiple breaks for you to be properly active throughout the day. He would totally do it in black and white for you to paint it! He heard that it can help you memorize it!

Troubles eating?

‌He would check the food you eat, making sure the levels of sugar are not too high, to evade artificial food, too processed, if they have dangerous food colorings, chemicals, etc. You name it, he already checked! He would only force you to eat things if they're healthy and you are extra picky, disguising them with spices and more!

Chores? Boring!

‌He would treat chores as games! Setting timers to receive stickers and such. He read about it online and does it with Denki too, making chores far more fun to finish and maintaining everything in order.

Studying with Tenya

‌Study dates would be in calm spaces with little to no distractions, fringing fidget toys to keep you stimulated and low sugar snacks to not get distracted my hunger. Small breaks in between assignments are a must and he knows it! Giving you a shoulder pat or a kiss (depending to how private the space is) as a reward for how good you're doing. He's rigid, but who is he to deny a little kiss in return for your intelligence?

Zoomies!

‌Oh no, zoomies time! You suddenly want to dance? Go outside? Run? The beach? The park? He's up for it! Using those moments to help you workout. You want to dance? Aerobics it is. Go outside? Hiking seems perfect to build strength! Run? You know he's up for it. The beach? Some laps on the sand to build resistance! Park? You'll be climbing trees and jumping! He knows how to make everything healthy.

Hobbies? Handcrafting

‌If you suddenly want to do handcrafted things he's willing to test you! Building things out of wood, let's test how you put crafting and building classes to work, you have to measure and cut precisely after all. Building with Legos is a big activity for him! He makes sure to put physics to the test, building giant places with you, bridges, houses, towers and more! This sweet boy gives the healthiest activities always.

Post-zoomies tiredness

‌He knows how tired you get after those moments of full energy and he has ways to help calm down during those, but he won't mind hugging you and cuddling to sleep afterwards, you get so tired! He'll encourage afternoon naps, his investigations led to realize that allowing you 20 minutes of sleep afterwards you wake up renewed so he makes sure you fall asleep and tracks your sleep for any sort of weird movements (he knows how anxious you can get too and is sure to wake you up and comfort you).

‌He'll make sure you have something to eat as soon as you wake up, yogurt with fruits are his go to! But granola bars and cookies or crackers work too if they're low in sugar. He'll have you working after that!

Hiperfixations!

‌You've got hiperfixations? Don't even worry about it, he'll encourage you to explore them safely and make sure that you won't do something bad such as isolate yourself just to indulge in it or spend huge amounts of money, they don't last enough and you always end up thinking "what have I done?" So he scolds you if you suddenly have a wall full with certain hiperfixation that is based in buying things, economical responsibility will be teached to you whether you like it or not.

Meltdowns? Breakdowns?

He understands when you get overwhelmed, there's so much going in your head at the same time that he can't even reprimand you for crying and suddenly getting angry at everyone. He'll try and get you to calm down in his arms, if it's needed he'll give you a calming tea or some light sleeping pills. As soon as your eyes get teary or your voice raises in that particular way, he holds your hand and takes you to a more private space, allowing you to let everything out and wind down, not an ounce of judging. At first it was overwhelming for him to try and calm you down with logic, now he understands that emotions are mostly not logical. He'll whisper sweet words and reassurance while you slowly calm down, he won't even judge you if you subconsciously regress when you're having a meltdown, he knows you seek the comfort of a home when you're crying or angry with the world and your self, caressing your back and calling you his little baby.

He'll bring you something warm to drink, a stuffed animal of your choice or a warm weighted blanket to ground you, he'll drop anything he's doing to comfort you during a breakdown.

Non-verbal or silent treatment?

He understands if you can't talk afterwards or simply don't want to, such strong emotions much leave you so tired that it's hard to communicate. If you go non-verbal he'll find ways to still communicate, even teaching himself and you simple sign language or reading your expressions to keep you comfortable and give you a way to communicate yourself without words.

If you do use silent treatment he'll feel hurt, why would you just ignore him like that? The first few times he'll excuse you but then he'll sit you down and talk about how much your silence hurts him, how you do not even looking at him. Both of you will find ways to bring you out of that state, slowly helping you stop that bad habit.

A/N: This is based off my own experience and my struggles as someone with ADHD, remember that it changes and variates between people! I tried to make these as inclusive as I could and not too based in just me, you're free to add anything in the comments!!

Hi! Natan here ; wanna read more about Tenya Iida? Check out my master list.

#mha headcanons #mha tenya #mha x reader #tenya iida #bnha tenya #bnha x reader #mha iida #adhd #tenya x reader #iida tenya x reader #tenya iida headcanon

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cherrynailsgrl · 1 month ago

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Nature and I were one.

words: 1,6k

Charlotte Matthews x Fem!Reader

type: fluffy & angst. You and Lottie were in situation ship and now you met again after two months, what could go wrong with an ex cult leader? I will be accepting requests <3

ty @lotties-ashwagandha for the beginning idea!!

Sorry if I have some errors, english it’s not my first language. Enjoy your reading. <3

You were waiting impatiently at the traffic light, a silly song playing on the radio while your fingers lightly tapped the steering wheel.

Everything was fine. You were thinking about getting home to catch up on some of the assignments for the advertising company where you worked; and the workload had doubled since they now had to come up with something more impressive than what artificial intelligence could produce.

However, your thoughts scattered when you saw her—her fur coat, stepping out of the bank. Charlotte Matthews. You thought she was either in the psychiatric facility or leading her heliotropic cult like she had been since you met her.

But no, there she was. You hadn’t ended on bad terms with her; it had been a few months of good sex, and you had just stopped seeing each other because the distance from the city to her wellness center was too far. You’d had really good sex that night two months ago when you both said, “Well, I guess it’ll be a while until I see you again, if I ever do.” You got up shaking, and that feeling lingered for a few days.

You loved her in secret. You would have been in a relationship with her. But God, she was so far away.

You saw her step toward the curb, trying to catch a cab. When the light turned green, you drove up to her as quickly as possible and stopped beside her. You rolled down the window and leaned toward that side of the car. “Need a ride?” you asked, lowering your sunglasses to see her.

“Y/N?” she asked. She licked her lips, hesitated a moment, and then got in. Her perfume filled the car, and she kissed your cheek. “You look good,” she said as she buckled her seatbelt.

“You too.” You started driving. “Do you have plans?”

“I think I’ve got the afternoon off.” She rested her head on the cushion, watching how your hair had grown over the past two months, tracing your features, like she always did.

“Do you want to come home and… talk?”

“Can we order Chinese food?” she asked first.

“We can,” you said, glancing at her at a red light. “And you’re not paying,” you added before she could say it.

On the way, you talked about the psychiatric hospital—though she didn’t tell you much. They couldn’t lock her up because of her religion, and her meds kept her stable. Everything was fine. She told you about the death of one of her friends, which was somehow one of the reasons she lost her center.

When you got to your apartment, she took off her coat and helped you with your work—or rather, she made you tea and played with your hair while you worked and chatted. You told her you’d gotten a better position at work, that you were thinking of adopting a cat, and about some of the problems you were having with your friends.

“Can you order the Chinese food and let me cook myself some veggie noodles? Please.” She gave you those big brown eyes you could never say no to; though you didn’t understand—Why did she want you to order Chinese if she wasn’t going to eat it with you?

Still, you didn’t deny her request. You drank some wine while you waited for your food and helped her cook her own.

The odd part came when the doorbell rang—she was the one who went to the door with your money. She took an envelope from the pocket of her coat that you didn’t get to read. You heard her close the door a moment later and saw her sit on the couch beside you, now carrying a new kind of tension.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, setting her hot dish on the coffee table. She placed the cardboard bag there too. She didn’t look at you for a moment, adjusting herself beside you, sideways. “Lottie,” you called again, softly now, a bit worried by the look in her eyes. You tilted your head to get a better view of her.

“Can I stay the night?” she finally asked. She looked at you—and she looked so… so lost. Lottie was never lost. She was always the guide.

“Lottie,” you murmured, not to say no—her nickname slipped from your lips with… was pity? You just knew she wasn’t telling you everything, and you wanted to help.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid,” she said quickly, standing up. “I should go.” When she turned, you took her hand and gently pulled her back to you.

“Stay.” It was a plea.

You intertwined your fingers with hers. “Talk to me.” You gently caressed the back of her hand.

She took a breath. “I lost everything. And I ruined so many lives thinking I was helping people.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I lost my home, I lost the Wellness Center, my friends think I’m insane, I’ve never… never felt so lost.”

Her voice broke, but she didn’t look at you, trying not to cry. She sobbed, and you moved closer, letting her speak while your free hand gently tucked her dark hair behind her ear.

“I thought I was helping people, truly healing them. Lisa was like a daughter to me, you know? And now she’s back on cigarettes, she has that same look in her eyes from when I first met her. I couldn’t fix anything. I didn’t help anyone. If I’d done better, I wouldn’t be like this. It’s my fault.” The delivery girl…

You pulled her into a hug. She finally broke, crying into your neck, a silent scream while you whispered, “Shh, it’s okay,” into her ear. You held her as long as she cried, comforting her, reassuring her that she did the best she could, that she had helped a lot of people, and if they relapsed, it wasn’t really her fault. That things would get better.

When she finally pulled away from your neck, you wiped her tears with your thumbs and kissed her face, feeling her slowly relax. The food went cold, but that didn’t matter—not really.

“Do you want to go to bed?” It was your turn to comfort her. She always helped you when something happened—fights with your parents, with your friends, always offering useful advice. She was older than you, and if your problems were like the ones she’d once had, her advice was more precise.

“Yes, please.” You took her hand and led her to your room. She hadn’t seen your apartment until that day. The walls were white, a bunch of photos stuck on them with your friends, a TV, two shelves of books, a decent closet, and some plants.

“I know it’s not much,” you said, a little embarrassed, used to her home, as you turned on a small lamp. “But it’s something,” you added.

She shook her head and waved a hand, dismissing your words. “It’s perfect.” She walked over to you and, to your surprise, kissed you—softly, sweetly, slowly.

But what surprised you even more was when you felt her guide your hands to the straps of her dress. You gently pulled away. “Lottie,” you said, confused by her action since she didn’t look like she wanted to have sex.

“What?”

“You don’t have to do this to stay the night.” You clarified, and she let out a relieved sigh.

“Really?” she asked, just to be sure.

“Really.” You lifted the straps back up, let your hands slide from her arms to her cheeks, and kissed her slowly, with no rush—just one slow kiss, and you pulled away gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered warmly. You lent her some pajamas and sat with her in bed after your nighttime routine. You sat behind her, gently brushing her hair, braiding it. You remembered how she used to get out of bed just so you’d do that.

“All done.” She thanked you and crawled into bed beside you. You talked about all the good things she’d done while cuddling her like she used to do for you, and suddenly she confessed:

“I think sometimes I miss the woods.” She had told you about that before—the first time she did was when you asked why she’d chosen to live in nature so… literally. How she’d bundle up so much to keep the cold from getting to her bones.

“Why?” you asked, lying close, your breaths brushing against each other.

“I think I was never as… free again. I didn’t have to take pills. No one called me crazy. Nature and I were one. I… I think I belong to that. I don’t know, I miss it. No one judged us, it was 1998, homophobia was… but there, in the woods, no one judged us. We could be ourselves. I could be myself. Sometimes I just want to go back.” Lottie fell silent, then chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You just look so beautiful talking about something you truly love, like nature. Your eyes shine so much.” Charlotte often told you the terrible parts (not the terrible things they did), but mostly she also said things like this.

“Shut up, brat.” But you didn’t get to answer—she kissed you gently, and when she pulled back, you said something else cheesy and kissed her again. “Oh, you want to do this—kissing before sleep like we were teenagers?” And it felt so good to just do that. So soft.

“Yes. And I’m not far off from being a teenager again.” You kissed her while you cuddled her. It was simply soft. You weren’t looking for anything more than that—not in this moment, not tonight. Just kisses.

“Would you come with me?” she asked after a while, in your ear, as she hugged you to fall asleep.

“To the woods? Lottie, I’m afraid of bears,” you murmured just before dozing off. It wasn’t a 100% answer. You weren’t taking it seriously.

“I’ll have to kidnap you,” she whispered, kissed your head, and rested hers on top of yours, wrapping her whole body around you. “I’m not letting you go. Not again.”

#yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #simone kessell #lottie matthews x you #lottie yj #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews #charlotte matthews x reader #charlotte matthews x you #charlotte matthews

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tofu83 · 10 months ago

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What men bred for.

2. Guards

The alien masters never imagined that there are such versatile and easy-to-tame highly intelligent animals in the universe. Well, compared to the masters, the people on earth are actually inferior in intelligence.

The masters' scientists originally only developed breeds for military use, carefully selecting suitable genes so that the humans bred would be strong, aggressive, but united and obedient male individuals.

However, with military success, public opinion began to demand the development of breeds that could also be used by civilians, so breeds that were smaller, more independent, but still highly obedient to their owners were developed. They were also implanted with nanobots when they were young adults, so that their bodies could better meet the needs of their owners. At the same time, control helmets are also installed. Of course, they absolutely obey their owners, but they still need consciousness control to prevent them from attacking each other.

They are kept by many owners as pets and guards, just like humans kept dogs in the past. They take pride in pleasing and being appreciated by their owners, who can make them very excited and proud just by touching their bodies. If they perform outstandingly, such as helping their master fight off robbers or thieves, or assisting in hunting, completing various daily tasks, etc., their master will upgrade their bodies as a more glorious reward.

Master’s scientists have also discovered that when the physical parts of human males of this breed are covered in tight rubber and artificial leather, they will be extremely excited and even fall into a euphoric state, which is only seen during the mating period of primitive species.

Scientists are still unable to explain the exact reason why male humans have physiological reactions to rubber and leather, but they have been widely used commercially to improve the maneuverability and work performance of human guards.

In addition, a new type of guards that first covers the whole male body in a rubber bodysuit , then strengthens the body with nanotechnology, and finally covers it with armor has been put into production. The consciousness of these guards is extremely pleasurable, and their bodies are controlled like puppets by microcomputers implanted in the back of their necks. They will soon be assigned to law enforcement agencies everywhere to protect, serve, and obey forever.

#ai image #reprogramming #drone #scifi #cyborg #scifi story #dronification #malebot #male robot #robotization #tofu83 #guards #what men bred for

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deathworlders-of-e24 · 9 months ago

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Liz, Biotechnician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir, with all due respect, this is horseshit.”

Elizabeth Collins stood in front of the giant desk, usually manned by the entirety of the Admiralty, now barely a sixth taken up by one man, Admiral Townes, who just sighed. This was clearly not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. He could be golfing with the Riltayon ambassador, their species had the lower half of arachnids, but no, he got picked for this.

“You knew going in that the Herald was set to be decommissioned at the end of this year, you knew it would be a short posting when you asked for it,” he said, bracing himself. This was gonna be rough. Ensign Liz was infamous for being…vocal.

“Sir, that’s not the issue here and you know it. I worked my ass off to get that posting. I got to cut my teeth on a heavy cruiser for god’s sake,” Liz said, flushed. “My grades at the academy were flawless, and my record shows-”

“Your record?! Let’s talk about your record for a moment.” A few taps on the table and a holoscreen appeared. Through the transparency Liz could see her file photo as well as lines of shifting texts as updates and memos filed in. “Your first week aboard you locked a supervising officer in a containment field and sedated him with gas.”

“The guy had a zeno-sporic infection, so I only really gassed the mushrooms. Plus I cured him.”

“A month later you stole a shuttle and jumped to restricted space to collect samples of…” a few scrolls down, “…why does this just say glowing rocks?”

“Because the proper noun for them isn’t pronounceable by humans, we don’t have beaks, sir.”

“Why’d you need glowing rocks?” Townes asked.

“Because the rocks were radioactive, and one of the Zilgrats we had on board at the time needed an interesting blend of chemotherapy, it’s actually really cool when…”

“Enough, ensign.” Admiral Townes cut her off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Elizabeth��Liz. Clearly, you are your father’s kid. You are brilliant, and fearless.”

“Thank you, sir, I know dad would be happy to hear you say that.”

“I wasn’t finished. You’re also completely irresponsible, have zero regard for protocol or regulations, and think you’re always right. I’m reading that word for word from your file, your last captain made it the first thing you read in there.” Townes clicked off the hologram and sighed.

“Look, Liz, I’m not saying this as an admiral right now. I’m saying this as your uncle. Your dad, my brother, made me promise to watch out for you when he left the service, so that’s all I’m trying to do here.”

Liz took a beat before speaking.

“I understand that, sir.”

“Your new assignment has already been certified by the admiralty, and you ship out from Tranquility in two days on board the Noah.”

Liz, in the middle of rolling her eyes, actually did a double take. “The Noah? That test ship for interspecies cooperation?” That might actually change things, an opportunity to examine different species up close for extended periods of time was a goldmine of research for her.

“You need to know though, this is your last shot. Every rules, every regulation, to the letter, or I can’t help you anymore, regardless of what I promised your dad.”

Liz didn’t stop to think too hard about it.

“Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the 50 years since the Human race had joined the GAIL, or the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms, Earth had undergone several extreme and extraordinary changes. The first being the level of technology. In the early 21st century we got to experience communication and information technology progress by leaps and bounds, and that was managed just by ourselves. The addition of alien technology added rocket fuel to that particular bonfire. Our understanding of biological and technological sciences shot forward by centuries, as well as transportation, namely space flight. Our first interplanetary guests, the lizard like Quintins, shared their forcefield and artificial gravity specs to make interstellar travel safer for us as well.

They were, however, initially horrified at our ‘rudimentary’ first designs. There were a lot of questions like ‘you use explosives as initial propellant?’ and ‘you shot into space at faster than light speeds without any shield array?’ In retrospect, the human race should not have gotten as far as it did. But there we were, members of a collective 200 species strong, setting out into the stars to explore the universe.

Ensign Liz Collins was thinking about such things as she walked the gangway aboard the Noah, a midsized exploratory ship, the first in a new line of experimental expedition vessel. The experiment was two fold. The first, and more practical, was to test a new propulsion system the science and engineering division of the GAIL had submitted. In theory it was capable of long sustainable WARP time with a significantly higher energy efficiency compared to older models, as well as a new power core make up to keep the ship running longer between docking. Supposedly the Noah would be capable of going at least a year without a recharge.

The second, more dubious aspect of the experiment was to see how many different species handled being in close proximity to one another. The Noah’s full crew compliment numbered exactly 100, and of the 200 races in the GAIL, 25 volunteered to put 4 members each of their species on board. Meaning Liz would only see 3 other humans for potentially the next year of her life.

How exciting, she thought. Finally a chance to study what the Galaxy has to offer up close and personal.

The cast off ceremony was boring. The captain, she believed he was a member of the Mergal species, was the only reason she didn’t try to sneak out. It appeared he had a cybernetic limb above the second insect set on his abdomen, which was interesting. Definitely more interesting than the other three humans she saw in the crew line up.

Afterwards she finally made it to the science division and booked it to biotech. The lab was state of the art, next gen super computers, stasis field generators, even a gene splicer!

“Oh hell yes,” Liz said, taking it all in. “Yeah, I can make this work.”

The only thing that stood out to her, however, was the potted plant in the corner. It was about 5 foot tall, standing in a square aluminum ‘pot’, the only thing in the room that wasn’t made of metal or ceramic. Upon closer inspection, it was more like a small tree or sapling, where its vines had wrapped around one another to grow up instead of hang down, with a lush leafy canopy.

“Why is there a tree in my lab?” Liz said, mostly to herself, but apparently the tree had an answer for her.

“Because this is my lab as well.”

Liz was so startled she thought the translator would fall out of her ear.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know there were any Sprygans on the crew!” Liz dropped her stuff onto the counter and approached the tree, who she now recognized as her crewmate. “I’m, uhh, Ensign Elizabeth Collins. You can call me Liz, if you like.” She held out her hand, unsure of even how they’d shake. As she stood there, the tree pulled itself out of the pot and onto the floor, dragging soil and dirt with it as its roots retracted into its body. Outside the pot the Sprygan only stood about 3 1/2 feet tall.

“Why is your…hand(?) out?” It asked. Liz’s translator registered two questions asked, and she realized the Sprygan wasn’t sure what a hand was.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, dropping her arm, “it’s how my people greet each other. Sorry.”

Great. First new species she’s gotten to meet and she’s acting the fool. Chocking it up to nerves, she tried to get back on track.

“What should I call you?” She asked. “Any pronouns I should be aware of?”

Liz watched as a vine extended from their body and reached out to grab a photo bar and switch it on. The bar lit up with synthetic star light and Liz realized the Sprygan was eating.

“You can call me whatever is convenient for you. On Spryga only the colonies have names, and I am not there right now.”

Liz was simultaneously baffled, intrigued, and mortified. She knew this, she knew all of this, this was practically social studies 101. She had to get her footing here. Townes voice in her head was disappointedly saying ‘Last chance’ over and over again. Change of topic then.

“Why’d your people volunteer for this mission then? I thought Sprygans didn’t leave their home world for anything.”

The Sprygan looked at her a moment, or at least she thought it did. Hard to tell when it didn’t have eyes.

“We came to see how predator species behave, so as better to surpass(?) them on our home world.”

The word ‘surpass’ flagged an error in her translator. Liz tapped the earpiece she was wearing and went to the alternative translation.

[Survive]

Oh. Oh god damnit. Liz you idiot. The Sprygans were a plant based race, they weren’t hunter or gatherers, they were basically the vegetables to other species on their home planet, of course they had predators they’d have problems with.

“Yeah, uhh, that makes sense.”

Before she could make any other off handed mistakes, Liz was quite literally saved by the bell.

“Attention all hands, this is your captain speaking. The start of our year long mission begins now. You all know the purpose of this ship is to test not only our mettle, but our spirits as well. Every species, every crewmate aboard this ship is going to be tested in ways they never have before, to the utmost limits. Help each other. Stand with each other. Because together, we’re going as far as our connections can take us. Everyone, to your stations. We’re going to WARP.”

The announcement clicked off. The Sprygan climbed back into their pot. Liz sat down at her station and sighed.

It was gonna be a long year.

#deathworlders of e24 #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #earth is space australia #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humans are strange

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starleska · 3 months ago

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i just had an ancient fandom memory unlocked which i need to share with you all 🙈 many of you are far too young to remember the halcyon days of early-2010s-Tumblr...particularly a pre-Once-ler Tumblr. so there may be a good chunk of you who weren't present for the insanity that was the Portal fandom, and specifically the fixation around Wheatley: one of the earliest Tumblr Sexymen 😳 so strap in for a little Tumblr Sexyman History...!!!

meet Wheatley, your companion and later-turned-antagonist in the enormously beloved Portal 2. bumbling and never able to shut his digital mouth, Wheatley is a Personality Core: a type of artificial intelligence housed in a metal sphere, developed by Aperture Science. specifically, Wheatley is an Intelligence Dampening Sphere. he was developed to attach to GLaDOS, the main antagonist of the whole series, to distract her with a litany of terrible ideas 😂

however, Wheatley doesn't remain amiable for long. in a scheme to dethrone GLaDOS and escape the facility you (or your playable character, Chell) are trapped in, you perform a core transfer, placing Wheatley in GLaDOS's chassis. the sheer power of being in control of the entire facility immediately goes to Wheatley's head, transforming him into an evil, sadistic, Machiavellian figure who forces you to perform test after test for his own satisfaction. also, he has a British (Bristolian!) accent. you can see the recipe for obsession, right? 😂💖

however, this was a time wherein fandom tastes were a little different. while today we are delighted to obsess over characters with unusual designs (and particularly thirst over characters of the robot/android/objectum/etc. variety), 'White Twink Humanisation' was rife in the early 2010s. if you've seen humanisations of Bill Cipher and ideas of what Cecil Palmer looked like, as well as the site's preoccupation with pale gangly weirdos (David Tennant and Matt Smith's Tenth and Eleventh Doctors come to mind), you can imagine that the urge to humanise Wheatley was huge.

enter Stephen Merchant: Wheatley's actual voice actor, who just so happens to be a six-foot-seven, gangly, nerdy British guy. fanfic author Wafflestories wrote an extremely well-known Wheatley redemption fic called Blue Sky, wherein Wheatley is able to control a hard-light human version of himself...who bears a striking resemblance to the real-life Stephen Merchant. the Portal fandom unanimously decided that human Wheatley looked just like Stephen Merchant—a design trend we still see today!! 😳 here's where the cursed forbidden memory comes in. we were so goddamn obsessed with Wheatley. we wanted to see him as a human so badly. so we went through Stephen Merchant's filmography, and...

this is Tracy, Stephen's character in Tooth Fairy (2010), starring Dwayne the Rock Johnson 😂 Tracy is a wingless caseworker fairy assigned to the Rock's character Derek, an ordinary man who becomes a tooth fairy against his will. Tracy is...unhinged. bizarrely intense. a delightfully weird and memorable character in a movie that can only be described as a fever dream, played with idiosyncrasies only Stephen Merchant is capable of. i recently found out it was directed by Michael Lembeck, who directed both The Santa Clause 2 and The Santa Clause 3 🙈💖 yes. for some ungodly reason, plenty of us Wheatley simps decided that not only was Stephen Merchant the faceclaim for human Wheatley...but this specific iteration of Stephen Merchant as a wingless tooth fairy. Tracy had his own little dedicated fanbase complete with ask blogs and fanart and extended Tooth Fairy lore. of course Tracy's popularity was helped along by his dapper dress sense and his...interesting personality. there was even a joking trend called 'Tracy Goes Insane 2011', wherein fans made a significantly more yandere, knifemurder-esque version of Tracy after he finally snapped. truly incredible 👏 so there you have it. we all started simping for a silly little metal ball who got drunk on testing juice and went full Joker mode, decided that he needed to resemble his tall, handsome voice actor, and consequently became obsessed with his stint as a deranged tooth fairy. and so it shall be written. thanks for reading 🙏💖

#the way this forbidden Wheatley knowledge was locked up behind a Fort Knox constructed in my own brain. oh my GODDD 🙈💖💖💖💖#we. were. down. so. bad. you. have. no. idea. AND I'LL BET THAT WE STILL ARE #i'm sure most folks know the bulk of humanised Wheatleys are based on Stephen Merchant #but the love of Tracy some arcane lore. feels like a relic of the way early Tumblr fandom functioned #i'm going to rewatch Tooth Fairy soon. sorry for the person i'll become again #but the psychic damage you suffered on this site between 2010-2015 is incomparable to anywhere else #wheatley #portal #portal 2 #stephen merchant #tracy #tracy the caseworker #tooth fairy #tooth fairy 2010 #tumblr sexyman #tumblr sexyman history #starleskatalks #long post

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probablyasocialecologist · 10 months ago

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The programmer Simon Willison has described the training for large language models as “money laundering for copyrighted data,” which I find a useful way to think about the appeal of generative-A.I. programs: they let you engage in something like plagiarism, but there’s no guilt associated with it because it’s not clear even to you that you’re copying. Some have claimed that large language models are not laundering the texts they’re trained on but, rather, learning from them, in the same way that human writers learn from the books they’ve read. But a large language model is not a writer; it’s not even a user of language. Language is, by definition, a system of communication, and it requires an intention to communicate. Your phone’s auto-complete may offer good suggestions or bad ones, but in neither case is it trying to say anything to you or the person you’re texting. The fact that ChatGPT can generate coherent sentences invites us to imagine that it understands language in a way that your phone’s auto-complete does not, but it has no more intention to communicate. It is very easy to get ChatGPT to emit a series of words such as “I am happy to see you.” There are many things we don’t understand about how large language models work, but one thing we can be sure of is that ChatGPT is not happy to see you. A dog can communicate that it is happy to see you, and so can a prelinguistic child, even though both lack the capability to use words. ChatGPT feels nothing and desires nothing, and this lack of intention is why ChatGPT is not actually using language. What makes the words “I’m happy to see you” a linguistic utterance is not that the sequence of text tokens that it is made up of are well formed; what makes it a linguistic utterance is the intention to communicate something. Because language comes so easily to us, it’s easy to forget that it lies on top of these other experiences of subjective feeling and of wanting to communicate that feeling. We’re tempted to project those experiences onto a large language model when it emits coherent sentences, but to do so is to fall prey to mimicry; it’s the same phenomenon as when butterflies evolve large dark spots on their wings that can fool birds into thinking they’re predators with big eyes. There is a context in which the dark spots are sufficient; birds are less likely to eat a butterfly that has them, and the butterfly doesn’t really care why it’s not being eaten, as long as it gets to live. But there is a big difference between a butterfly and a predator that poses a threat to a bird. A person using generative A.I. to help them write might claim that they are drawing inspiration from the texts the model was trained on, but I would again argue that this differs from what we usually mean when we say one writer draws inspiration from another. Consider a college student who turns in a paper that consists solely of a five-page quotation from a book, stating that this quotation conveys exactly what she wanted to say, better than she could say it herself. Even if the student is completely candid with the instructor about what she’s done, it’s not accurate to say that she is drawing inspiration from the book she’s citing. The fact that a large language model can reword the quotation enough that the source is unidentifiable doesn’t change the fundamental nature of what’s going on. As the linguist Emily M. Bender has noted, teachers don’t ask students to write essays because the world needs more student essays. The point of writing essays is to strengthen students’ critical-thinking skills; in the same way that lifting weights is useful no matter what sport an athlete plays, writing essays develops skills necessary for whatever job a college student will eventually get. Using ChatGPT to complete assignments is like bringing a forklift into the weight room; you will never improve your cognitive fitness that way.

31 August 2024

#ai #artificial intelligence #ai art #chatgpt #generative ai #ted chiang

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