#understanding artificial general intelligence

[pinkthrone445]

-What we used to be-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:hurt, reconciliation

Warnings:insults

Summary: a mistake from your past pushes you to remember your ex and what you used to be, making you realize how much you really missed her.

AN:I don't know if somebody is still here on my profile, but I will just leave this here and go. I hope you like it

Your eyes were closed, the darkness of the room still kept you company when you started to feel soft fingertips outline the shape of your cheek and nose, very carefully, almost like the the gentle touch against your skin that a feather getting drafted by the air would leave behind, so soft that you weren't completely sure if it was really there. You couldn't avoid the smile that formed on your lips, and then, between the silence of the room, a little but deep laugh escaped from her lips

-"Good morning Hon..."-The redhead whispered softly, you could feel the air of her nose against your skin, her voice deep from the sleppyness of the night still attached to her body. You didn't said anything, pretending to be asleep just to enjoy a little more her soft and carefull hands giving you caresses. Her fingers traced your eyebrows and lips, it felt so innocent and intimate at the same time, so perfect, like if it was meant to be. Her perfume taking over your senses and your hand searching for hers between the sheets, still with your eyes closed, trying to force her closer, force her to stay a little longer. But after a few seconds of searching, you couldn't find her hand and all of the sudden the soft caresses stoped, and the bed felt cold, the sunshine slipping trough the curtains forced you to open your eyes, only to find the other side of the bed empty, almost perfectly placed, like if nobody had used that side in a long time. You couldn't avoid to sigh and touch the empty and cold pillow beside you, forcing yourself to swallow that knot that formed on your troath.

You turned to the side and saw the time on the clock, fuck, it was so late, you didn't had time to even cry or feel sad about the dream you just had. You were fucking late for work.

You ran out of the bed, trying to get ready as fast as you could, and kept running to your car.

After a fast but still legal drive, you got to school, ready to have an amazing day with your highschollers students...

-"Oh my fucking god... This is our future generation?... They don't even understand what they are trying to say... 'The Existences of Life and Deep Thought: Why Everything Is Something'" - You sighed looking at the paper in your hands and continued to read out loud-"'

In this paper, I will explain the importance of things because when we look at the world, things are really important. Many scientists like Einstein and maybe also Shakespeare have explained that thinking is crucial to the human species. If we don’t think about thinking, then what are we even thinking about? The theory of existentialism proves that existence exists, which is very meaningful when you really think about it. Furthermore, according to many philosophers and people on the internet, being is better than not being, unless not being is part of your being, in which case it depends. This paper will demonstrate that life is a metaphor, and also literally not a metaphor, depending on how you interpret the facts that I will soon discuss but haven’t yet...'"-You sighed again-"' Thinking is crucial to the human?' They should try some of that..."-You commented out loud to the empty room-"'Existence exists?' What is wrong with this kids?"-Your eyes hurt from squinting so much in confusion, one paper was worse than the other, and even the ones that used artificial intelligence were bad and no coherent at all after they tried to 'fix' it so you wouldn't notice they used AI-"Oh goodness I need a coffee"-You took off your glasses and rested your head against the desk. Since the moment you woke up today, or even before waking up, everything seemed to be against you, you had a lovely dream with your ex that made you feel so shitty, your alarm didn't ring, the coffee maker broke, you ran out of gas, you forgot your badge at home and the new security guard didn't want to let you in. And now, in your free period you had to check this horrible amount of bad written papers. While you were trying to rest your eyes a little, your phone rang with a notification taking you away of your tired thoughts. When you opened the messages the nickname "Captain Ally" pooped out, it was your old time friend Jacob, you put that nickname because he always wants to support, even when he has no idea what’s actually going on. Even if you didn't went to college with him anymore, he always tried to invite you to things like if you were still part of the gang

-"Usual bar tonight! You coming?" - You could almost hear his voice when you saw the message

-"Drinks and being away from grading papers? Count me in"- Before you could press the send button, the principal's voice cracked from the speakers

-"Miss (Y/N) please come to my office, immediately" - You sighed and got up putting the phone on your pocket, wondering if all the swearing you did when you were alone was heard by someone and they snitched on you and got you in trouble. When you got to the office the principal pointed at the chair in front of him, so you sat down. He was reading a folder with a few pages on it, and after a few seconds of murmuring to himself, he finally spoke-"Yeah... So you are being investigated..."-you frowned in confusion

-"Investigated, for what?" - Your voice came out higher than what you wanted

-"A mom... Linda Throne..."-he started to explain

-"Throne? I know that name..."-you mumble to yourself trying to remember from were

-"...Alleges that you kissed your girlfriend in front of her daughter..."-he continued

-"Oh my god!" - You knew where this was going and you didn't liked it one bit

-"...and in front of a whole class of other high schoolers at the end of school year of 2022"-he took off his glasses

-"Come on! You talked to me about it! It was nothing" - You complained

-"I know. But now she's made a formal complaint, and I have to read this..."-the principal seemed exhausted about it

-"Wait a minute that kid graduated, she is in college now. Why is she doing this now?..." - You were so confused

-"I don't know, why does anybody do anything? Attention? Money?" - He took a sip of his coffee

-"Wait a minute, Linda Throne, I remember that name. That's the mom that complained about the grade system when her kid got and F... And she complained about the books assignments... And..."-You started to remember, she was a piece of work

-"Oh my god" - The principal seemed more frustrated now than before

-"This is insane..."-You rolled your eyes

-"I know, but you did kiss your girlfriend in front of her daughter...This is serious now because she can have proof and help from other parents or students"-he was upset, almost as much as you

-"Come on, it was barely a peck. I'm not even sure if our lips touched... Do you understand? This is homophobia, this is homophobia behavior right here..."-You started to do a lot of hand gestures, angry ones

-"I know, but this is bigger than us now, you can get suspended by this, even loose your teaching license... She has a lot of money and power and she is a pain in the ass" - He got up from his desk- "You didn't hear the last part..."

-"So what do I do? I just wait for my fate to be decided?..."-You were frowning so much that your forehead started to hurt

-"Look, you are a good teacher. I want you to keep your job... You... You could write a statement in defense of your position and I will submit it on your behalf, that's all I can do to help" - He grabbed his suitcase

-"A defense? I'm not writing a statement, this whole thing is bullshit..."-You complained

-"This is not bullshit, you are lucky they are not suspending you right now and they are waiting for a trial" - He tried to make you see the gravity of the situation and you sighed trying to calm down

-"Let me ask you something... Her kid, remember that kid?" - he nodded- "Is she gay now?" - he didn't said anything, he just looked away- "She is in college and she is gay now, right?" -he didn't confirm or denied anything-"Am I right? I am right! She thinks that we turned her kid gay... Oh my god! This is insane..."-You laughed at the situation

-"Please I can not discuss it further with you, my only job was to read that notification to you... Please take the rest of the day off" - He said and insisted on it, so you grabbed your stuff to leave, calling Jacob to let him know that you definitely need a few drinks on your system.

When night time arrived, you got to the bar, finding Jacob and Janine on a table with drinks already waiting for you, the music was almost loud enough to drown your thoughts as you made your way to them, almost enough, but not enough at all...

-"You guys are amazing" - You took two big glups of your drink after saying hi to them, feeling that sweet burn on your throat

-"Oh wow, you weren't kidding when you said you weren't feeling okey..."-Jacob said seeing your glass half empty already.

After a basic chit-chat, they gave you the opportunity to explain everything that happened that day, always exited for any tea that you had to spill, and by the end of it, they were as shocked and mad as you were

-"That's definitely homophobic" - Jacob said and you nodded, already sipping on your third drink

-"I can't believe it, there should be something more that we can do besides writing a paper... What if we get Melissa's help? She is involved in this too, I bet she knows someone that can help, she knows a lot of people..." - Janine comented and you felt pain in your heart when you heard your ex's name

-"You should both go talk to the school board together, you are both involved in this and you are both teachers..."-Jacob also insisted and each minute of thinking about her, your pain grew

-"Yeah,but, first, we are not together anymore, second, she is not being investigated so I won't bring her to this, I could put her on risk of losing her job too. And third, Melissa changed schools to yours a long time ago and we haven't talked ever since..."-You sighed thinking about the redhead, seeing your reflection on your own drink, you seemed so sad thinking about her.

The redhead and you had a beautiful relationship a few years back, when you and her used to work on the same school. She was almost everything that you needed, she was kind, protective, hot, passionate, lovely... It was the perfect relationship if you only ignored the fact that you knew almost nothing about her. You tried to ignore how closed she was, trying to convince yourself that she would open more to you after a time dating. But when weeks became months, and months became a year and you still knew almost the same as when you started dating, you couldn't ignore it anymore.

You tried to talk to her about it, but she always brushed you off saying that she was that way, and there was nothing wrong in having a few secrets. You pressed further after, but nothing changed. You kept trying to make her understand, to make her see that when she didn't opened to you that hurt, "I keep opening up, but it’s like talking to a mirror" ; "How can I connect with someone who won’t let me in?"; was a few of the things you said to her. But she didn't seemed to understand or she didn't wanted to understand.

You even got frustrated and felt guilt, "Maybe I’m asking for too much. Maybe I need to be patient...", you kept repeating yourself.

But you reached a breaking point when you went to a teacher's weekend and a lady came to fight with the redhead out of nowhere, only to find out that it was her sister, a sister that you knew nothing about, not even her name, a sister that she never mentioned.

That night when you got home, you tried to talk once more... You could still remember the conversation almost completely

-“I like you. I really do. But I’m realizing that I’m the only one showing up fully here. I keep trying to get closer, and it’s like... you won’t let me. And maybe that’s where you are in life right now, and I respect that, but I need more than walls and small talk. I need someone who wants to be known.”- where your words between a few tears. And Melissa, instead of being understanding, she got offended

-"Wow. So now I’m the bad guy because I don’t spill my trauma on command? You don’t even know what I’ve been through. Maybe I don’t open up because I’ve learned what happens when I do. Not everyone has the luxury of being emotionally raw all the time. I was showing up the best way I could. Sorry it wasn’t good enough for you"-she said, almost screaming.

You both tried to fix your relationship after that, but no change was made and what she was giving you wasn't enough anymore, and the relationship worn out a few weeks after.

Soon Melissa changed schools and you tried to live your life with the emptiness she left behind, pretending to move on.

-Back to the present on the bar-

By the end of the nigth, when you were more drinks on you that you could count, you took your phone off and opened the app note, planning on writing the statement that you needed

-"To whom it may concern... I (Y/N), I'm being invested for showing apropiated and short love affection to my partner. I pecked my girlfriend on the cheek, perhaps making momentary passing contact with her lips, in front of a class of my students while we were on lunch break. We were a serious relationship at the time, and it is clear to me that this behavior would not be tolerated, but encouraged if a straight couple did the same... "-while you wrote it, Jacob, sitting besides you, read aloud-"Do you think it sounds defensive?" - You asked to your friend, your eyes barely open

-"No! I think you are on the right saying all of that...Will you talk to Mel about it?" - he asked, hopping to trick you while you were drunk to talk to her, planing to be a little cupid if the chance presented

-"I won't... Don't insist or I will punch one of you"-You insisted, seing double by now

-"Okey Okey, I won't... But tell me, what happened that time, did you really kissed in front of them?" - he asked, being as nosey as ever

-"We..."-You closed your eyes, letting your mind go back to the place that you have been avoiding since the moment you broke up with her, the moments when the love overcame the bad things. You could still feel her lips on yours if you focused, the way they perfectly fit with yours and how soft her hands were when she was holding your waist. You still remember that day perfectly, you were on lunch duty, making sure everyone eat at peace, and Mel went to keep you company for a little bit. You were still happy for the morning you had that day before school, she made you breakfast and you end up having a steamy kiss session on the kitchen and on the car... And when she came to keep you company on the launch break, you both kissed before she went back to her classroom, you couldn't avoid to suck her bottom lip into your mouth and the redhead let her hand wonder a little to the back pocket of your jeans, grabbing you closer, squeezing your ass for a very briefly moment before leaving. You sighed remembering her and her perfect lips- "We... We kissed..."-thats all you said, with pain on your chest, missing her more that you wanted to admit.

The night kept going after that but you were too drunk to remember any of it, taking advantage that it was Friday, you kept drinking until you passed out. You couldn't even remember how you got home or who dragged your ass to your bed, you just assumed that it was your friends.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur, and school started again on Monday. While you kept having anxiety about your situation on your school, just a few blocks away in Abbott Elementary, Janine and Jacob were talking about you and all your problems on the teacher's room. When Mel came in, they shushed up immediately, thing that didn't went unnoticed by the redhead

-"Spill it" - she said, knowing that whatever they were talking about involved her

-"Spill what? We have nothing to spill. Do you have anything to spill?" - Jacob asked Janine, pretending to have dementia

-"Nothing to spill besides my favorite juice that's here on the table" - Janine pretend too, very badly by the way, with a very bad fake laugh at her bad joke. Melissa just stared at them, with a very serious face, and they panicked, folding under no pressure at all after just a minute under the redhead stare-"(Y/N) is under investigation for unproperly behavior, because she kissed you in front of her class on lunch time a few years back, her carrier is on the line and she doesn't want to involve you because she is scared you might get under investigation too and losse your job"-Janine talked so fast that Mel wasn't sure if she heard correctly

-"What?"-Melissa asked confused

-"Please don't make me repeat it" - Janine said and the redhead grabbed her jacket and purse immediately running outside.

-"What do you think she is going to do?" - Jacob asked Janine

-"I don't know, but if (Y/N) asks, we didn't said anything..."-The girl said and her friend nodded.

A week after that, your statement was finally ready and with shaking hands you took it to your principal

-"Here is my statement... I hope it really helps my case..."-You left it on his desk and he looked at you confused

-"What case?..."-he stared at you

-"I'm being investigated...remember?" - You explained and he let a little laugh escaped

-"Oh that! The lady dropped the charges. I forgot to tell you... I'm sorry" - He kept laughing and now it was your chance to stare at him. You have been worrieng sick for a whole week because he forgot to tell you, and he was laughing when it had nothing funny about it?

-"Dropped? Why?..." - You asked, still without understanding

-"I don't know exactly, something about focusing her time on other things that were more important that sue a teacher with minimal wage... Wait, but the district did said something" - He took a paper out to read- "First, you can not date any members of your work place anymore, and second, to avoid any sexual connection you might had formed with any colleagues here to go any further and create another problem, from next month on, you will be transferred to Abbot Elementary to help with the oldest students there... And since you were under investigation, sadly you don't have a saying on this..."-he finished reading and you left the office without saying another word, confused, barely understanding what he said.

When you managed to get your brain working again, you called Jacob to tell him if you could meet him at the bar that night, that you had news to give him, and without any further questions, he agreed.

When night came, you made your way to your usual bar, but after a few minutes of waiting, none of your friends showed up. Worried, you took out your cell phone to call, but before you could even unlock it, someone placed a glass of your favorite drink on the table in front of you, a wave of a perfume filled your nose and a wave of nostalgia flooded your chest, you knew that perfume very well

-"The woman over there sends you this" - a voice said, a voice you could recognized anywhere. You lifted your view to meet those green eyes that you haven't seen in so long, they still shone in the same way and had the same makeup as always, the only difference after all those years was a few more age lines around them. Your brain stop functioning for a few seconds, even forgetting how to breathe, she bit her lip nervously because you didn't said anything-"Hey..."-her voice snapped you to react

-"What woman?" - You asked, playing along for a moment. If you were going to work together again, you at least had to be able to have a basic conversation with her

-"Me, it was a little joke to break the ice... I'm the woman that sends you your favorite drink, who else would know exactly what you like?" - she smiled softly and you frowned. In front of you was the Melissa that you knew, but at the same time she seemed someone different, she looked more relaxed and open, more soft that all those years back. She even seemed nervous around you, not the confident redhead that pretended that nothing could get through her tough skin. Again, because you didn't answer, she forced herself to keep making up conversation -"Thank you for trying to not involve me in that investigation that they were making, that was really sweet of you..." - she said with a soft voice and sat beside you

-" How did you..." - You were about to ask

-"Jacob and Janine told me..." - she confessed ordering a drink for herself and you nodded

-"Of curse they did, I don't know why I was hopping they would keep their mouth shut..." - You took a sip of the drink she ordered for you, it was just the way you loved it

-"I'm glad they didn't tho. I couldn't let you lose your job for something that we were both involved at... It was the fault of both of us..." - she whispered playing with the straw on her hand- "I regret nothing of that by the way... Well almost nothing..."-her voice was weak, almost like if she were on pain

-"What are you talking about?" - You asked in confusion

-"I'm talking about us... I regret loosing that. I know it's too late now, but you were right... I should have let you know more stuff about me... I was just scared and I end up pushing you away" - she looked at your eyes and you sighed, those words that you always wanted to listen were too late now

-"It doesn't matter... We... That was a long time ago, we were not the same back then, it doesn't matter anymore..."-You whispered

-"I know we are different people now... But it's to late for a second chance? Would you like to meet the new me?" - she extended her hand to you and you just stared at her - "I'm Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti. I'm 51 years old" - she mentioned her age, you knew this was serious- "I have 8 siblings, 5 sisters, 2 brothers and one half brother. I love to cook and watch housewifes, also build tiny display puzzles... I..." - You stoped raising your hand

-"I appreciate your effort... But as I said, it doesn't matter anymore..."-You repeated and she gave you a sad smile

-"I know... I just realy regret my past behavior and all I did to you, you didn't deserve any of it... I just thought that if I fixed the problem with the mom that made that complaint, I would be able to fix some of the damage I did on the past..."-she seemed really sad and you felt pain in your heart for seeing her like that

-"What do mean by fixing the problem with the mom that made the complaint? That was you?" - You asked surprised

-"Yeah... I couldn't forgive myself if, because of me, you end up hurt again... So I payed a little visit to that mom and convinced her to drop all the charges after a friendly conversation..."-she played with the straw on her drink again. You knew that by friendly she must have dig out some dirt on the mom and used against her to make her drop the charges, but still was a sweet move

-"That was you?... And my transfer is also your doing?"-You asked further

-"What transfer?" - now was her time to see confused

-"They ask me to transfer to Abbott..."-You whispered and she smiled with surprise

-"Really? Oh wow... I promise it wasn't me, I wasn't even expecting that to come out of your mouth... It will almost be like old times... You and me in the same school..." - she whispered the last part very happily

-"No, it won't. This time, you and me are just coworkers...there is no 'we' this time..."-You clarify and she nodded

-"I know... I'm sorry... I'm just happy that you get to keep your job..."-she smiled softly-"By the way... Who invited you to the bar? We have been talking a while now and noone seem to be looking for you...-she made an observation and you remember the phone on your hand

-"Jacob did... I was about to call him when you arrived..."-You finally dialed the number and after a few rings your friend picked it up

-"Hey! I was about to call to let you know that I'm sick and I can't go..."-he was lying, you could even tell through the call, specially when he faked a cough-"I'm so sorry... Raincheck?" - he asked and you sighed turning to the redhead, covering the mic of the phone for a second

- "Who invited you here?" - You asked her

-"That's what I was about to tell you, Jacob invited me too, is he okey?" - Melissa asked and you rolled your eyes, a few pieces clicking into place now. Jacob knew that Melissa defended your ass so you could keep your job, and being the cupid that he always tried to be, he invited you both to that bar so you had no other chance to talk, hopping that what Mel had done to help you, was enough to forgive her. You put the phone on your ear again-"I'm with Melissa..." - You heard an exited little scream behind Jacob, confirming all your suspicious about them making a plan-"We hope that you get better soon, because next time I see you, I will kick both of your ass" - You said to your friend, hearing two different kind of screams on the phone, being pretty sure that Janine was with him too, playing cupid together.

[in-sightjournal]

Ask A Genius 1361: The Limits of Science, Time, and Understanding AI

Rick Rosner: On-time first: I do not think time itself has to have a limit. Time, as we understand it, needs a universe to exist within. A universe can continue indefinitely into the future. However, you never actually reach infinity. You keep extending further and further without ever arriving at an infinite point. You can have a universe that is any finite age, no matter how old it gets. Every…

[hussyknee]

I've gotten to the point in my life where I will no longer be debating or arguing a single fucking thing. I'm gonna just tell them to fall into a vat of acid and dissolve into glue or make velociraptor noises until they go away.

[cadmar]

Insights of the 4D Mind

Every living organism has energy that resists the environment's pressures; can distinguish inputs from other inputs; has a means to interact with the inputs; can assign a goal for its action; its actions can become inputs for future actions; and has a threshold to stop an action and goal it is pursuing. All this is automatic that under the same initial situations, will have the same outcomes!

Every living organism becomes the background and can not escape its role! There is no ability to being "outside" to this evolutionary process. The living organism is born into a role, maintains that role, and dies within that role. The role never changes. Evolution changes the role for the next living organism to be born to another role, in which that new role is maintained, and then dies with that new role. Repeats and repeats creating the evolutionary ladder and tree of life!

We, on the other hand, can step outside of this evolutionary ladder. Reasoning is insight. Perspective is insight. Logic is insight. Reasoning, perspective, and logic are all from someone having insight and this insight was handed down to others! An accumulation of insights! An insight is scratching an universal source of all patterns and knowledge!

How did I get the insight about the process of the brain and its neural tree-like patterns? From reading a book, "Fractals in Nature", that showed that water from a river overflowing onto its sandy bank can create a variety of patterns 10 to the 60 power all because of these variables: the amount of force, the amount of water, and the texture of the sandy river's bank.

My insight was taking this unrelated concept and connecting it to the brain's neural process: the sensory signals have different amount of force from different sensory sources; the amount of the chemical-electrical signals; and the neurons' previous connections (the more a connection is used, the stronger it gets). From this insight, I was able to teach others more effectively as this is the process the brain absorbs and maintains knowledge and memories! The students are better learners with higher academic grades!

My insight is taking two unrelated ideas and combining them! I was not thinking on how the brain works! I was curious about fractals in nature. It was only at the end of the book when I came upon this overflowing of the river did I make the connection to the brain! This is insight. How many other people read this book and never made this connection? The author certainly did not!

This is insight. It just comes out of nowhere! Suddenly, like a lightbulb turned on! This is the same when you notice the cause for one of your desires, anger, greed, addiction, and alcoholism! Happens on its own and one must prepare oneself for the unknown to happen! Welcome your insights! The more insights we all have, the more our civilization prospers and develops!

[peppermintschnapps]

bit of peer pressure going on in the discord to try that new bing AI image create thing. so, i described Red Dwarf to see what the algorithm could generate

this is me cherry picking the only cohesive images it could make, the algorithm is generally quite clunky and doesn't understand anything that isn't the most basic language. but yeah. mildly interesting to see what it interpreted, from my words

[mariathechosen1]

I think that from now on all tumblr users should be forced to answer a two-question quiz before being allowed to express any opinion about AI:

1. What is AI?

2. What separates a ‘good’ tool from an ‘evil’ tool?

[jcmarchi]

AI and the Future of Translation: A New Era of Human-AI Collaboration

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/ai-and-the-future-of-translation-a-new-era-of-human-ai-collaboration/

AI and the Future of Translation: A New Era of Human-AI Collaboration

Artificial intelligence is transforming industries at an unprecedented pace, and the world of translation is no exception. As AI-driven language models grow more sophisticated, one question continues to surface: Will AI replace human translators? At RWS, we believe the answer is clear—AI will never replace human expertise, but it will fundamentally change how humans and AI collaborate.

This belief is rooted in what we call Genuine Intelligence—the idea that true intelligence is not just artificial, but a combination of machine efficiency and human expertise. AI alone cannot understand nuance, cultural context, or emotion. It can process language, but it cannot truly comprehend meaning. That’s why the future of translation isn’t about AI replacing people—it’s about AI and people working together in smarter, more impactful ways.

A Hybrid Approach: Machine-First, Human-Optimized

Rather than seeing AI as a competitor, we see it as an enabler—one that enhances productivity, improves accuracy, and expands the capabilities of language specialists. AI excels at handling repetitive, time-consuming tasks such as pre-translating content, matching terminology, and analyzing linguistic patterns at scale. However, true translation goes far beyond direct word-for-word replacement. It requires cultural fluency, contextual understanding, and an emotional connection—elements that only human expertise can provide.

At RWS, we embrace a “machine-first, human-optimized” approach, where AI streamlines workflows while language specialists refine quality, fluency, and cultural nuance. This method isn’t about automation for automation’s sake. It’s about using AI to free up human translators and language specialists to focus on the most meaningful aspects of their work—adding creativity, critical thinking, and strategic insight.

Beyond Text: AI’s Role in Multimedia Localization and Creation

AI isn’t just changing written translation; it’s reshaping how multimedia content is produced, localized, and consumed worldwide. According to our recent study titled “Unlocked 2025: Riding the AI Shockwave,” 70% of global consumers report seeing more AI-generated multimedia content—videos, images, and audio—since the launch of tools like ChatGPT. This shift has major implications for translation and localization.

In addition, generative AI is rapidly being adopted in industries such as film, music, and advertising, particularly in fast-growing digital markets like Sub-Saharan Africa, where streaming is driving demand. AI-powered tools are helping brands scale content creation while maintaining linguistic and cultural relevance. Consumers now associate leading Gen AI tools like ChatGPT, Gemini by Google, and Microsoft’s CoPilot with enhanced creative capabilities, while emerging players from France, the UAE, and China are bringing fresh competition to AI-generated media.

As this digital content consumption grows, consumers increasingly expect global brands to provide seamless, localized multimedia experiences. AI-powered speech recognition, synthetic voices, and automated subtitling are now key to making video content accessible across languages. The demand for dubbing and subtitling has never been higher, particularly in linguistically diverse regions like APAC and Africa, where consumers expect brands to speak their language—literally and figuratively.

But localization goes beyond translation. It’s about making content feel native to each audience. Localized imagery, for example, plays a critical role in establishing authenticity. Many markets, especially in the Global South, prefer culturally aligned visuals and narratives in advertising and corporate communications. AI can help automate this process, but human oversight remains essential to ensure content is not just translated but truly localized.

Generative AI is not only transforming enterprise workflows but also fueling a creative renaissance in emerging markets. In Nigeria and India, AI-powered tools are enabling filmmakers, musicians, and content creators to scale their reach globally. Streaming platforms are leveraging AI to automate editing, optimize translations, and produce regionally relevant content, making multimedia more accessible to diverse audiences.

At RWS, our Evolve linguistic AI solution is revolutionizing multimedia localization. By integrating translation management (Trados Enterprise), neural machine translation (Language Weaver), and AI-assisted quality estimation (MTQE), we enable language specialists to refine content efficiently ensuring fluency, accuracy, and cultural alignment.

Consumer Perceptions and Challenges

Despite AI’s advancements in multimedia localization, consumers remain cautious. While Unlocked 2025 found that 57% of respondents have noticed improvements in AI-generated multimedia quality, concerns persist around accuracy, cultural relevance, and misinformation. Trust in AI-generated content is particularly low in regulated industries such as healthcare and finance, where errors in translated materials can have serious consequences.

Transparency is also a growing concern. According to the report, 81% of consumers want AI-generated content to be clearly labeled, underscoring the need for greater disclosure in AI-powered multimedia. Additionally, 56% of respondents report a rise in fake multimedia content, including deepfakes and manipulated visuals, raising ethical questions about AI’s role in information integrity.

The Future of Multimedia Localization with AI

Looking ahead, AI’s impact on multimedia will continue to evolve, driving new opportunities for immersive, personalized content experiences. AI is already enabling advancements in interactive videos, AR/VR applications, and dynamic advertisements tailored to individual user preferences. Initiatives like Mozilla’s Common Voice project are also expanding voice AI capabilities, helping to generate high-quality voiceovers in underserved languages.

But here’s what will set successful brands apart: finding the right balance between automation and human expertise. Hybrid human-AI approaches—where AI accelerates workflows and humans provide cultural and creative oversight—will be key to maintaining authenticity, trust, and engagement in multilingual content.

Final Thoughts: The Role of Genuine Intelligence

The future of translation and localization isn’t about AI replacing humans—it’s about using AI intelligently to enhance human expertise. This is the essence of Genuine Intelligence: a collaborative approach where AI accelerates workflows, and human specialists ensure accuracy, cultural authenticity, and emotional connection.

Generative AI is unlocking new possibilities for content creation and localization. However, long-term success will depend on balancing automation with human oversight to build trust, transparency, and engagement in multilingual content.

Ultimately, the most impactful brands won’t just adopt AI—they’ll integrate it thoughtfully, using technology to scale while ensuring content remains culturally resonant. But to truly connect with diverse audiences, human contribution is essential. Not just any human input—but the nuanced expertise of today’s language specialists: professionals who combine domain knowledge, linguistic fluency, cultural sensitivity, technical skill, and creative instinct. It’s this combination of capabilities that ensures AI-generated content isn’t just fast and functional, but also fluent, relevant, and emotionally intelligent. AI may power the process—but it’s human specialists who give content its meaning.

[sreegs]

TERFS FUCK OFF

One of the common mistakes I see for people relying on "AI" (LLMs and image generators) is that they think the AI they're interacting with is capable of thought and reason. It's not. This is why using AI to write essays or answer questions is a really bad idea because it's not doing so in any meaningful or thoughtful way. All it's doing is producing the statistically most likely expected output to the input.

This is why you can ask ChatGPT "is mayonnaise a palindrome?" and it will respond "No it's not." but then you ask "Are you sure? I think it is" and it will respond "Actually it is! Mayonnaise is spelled the same backward as it is forward"

All it's doing is trying to sound like it's providing a correct answer. It doesn't actually know what a palindrome is even if it has a function capable of checking for palindromes (it doesn't). It's not "Artificial Intelligence" by any meaning of the term, it's just called AI because that's a discipline of programming. It doesn't inherently mean it has intelligence.

So if you use an AI and expect it to make something that's been made with careful thought or consideration, you're gonna get fucked over. It's not even a quality issue. It just can't consistently produce things of value because there's no understanding there. It doesn't "know" because it can't "know".

[ohnoitstbskyen]

You’ve probably been asked this before, but do you have a specific view on ai-generated art. I’m doing a school project on artificial intelligence and if it’s okay, i would like to cite you

I mean, you're welcome to cite me if you like. I recently wrote a post under a reblog about AI, and I did a video about it a while back, before the full scale of AI hype had really started rolling over the Internet - I don't 100% agree with all my arguments from that video anymore, but you can cite it if you please.

In short, I think generative AI art

Is art, real art, and it's silly to argue otherwise, the question is what KIND of art it is and what that art DOES in the world. Generally, it is boring and bland art which makes the world a more stressful, unpleasant and miserable place to be.

AI generated art is structurally and inherently limited by its nature. It is by necessity averages generated from data-sets, and so it inherits EVERY bias of its training data and EVERY bias of its training data validators and creators. It naturally tends towards the lowest common denominator in all areas, and it is structurally biased towards reinforcing and reaffirming the status quo of everything it is turned to.

It tends to be all surface, no substance. As in, it carries the superficial aesthetic of very high-quality rendering, but only insofar as it reproduces whatever signifiers of "quality" are most prized in its weighted training data. It cannot understand the structures and principles of what it is creating. Ask it for a horse and it does not know what a "horse" is, all it knows is what parts of it training data are tagged as "horse" and which general data patterns are likely to lead an observer to identify its output also as "horse." People sometimes describe this limitation as "a lack of soul" but it's perhaps more useful to think of it as a lack of comprehension.

Due to this lack of comprehension, AI art cannot communicate anything - or rather, the output tends to attempt to communicate everything, at random, all at once, and it's the visual equivalent of a kind of white noise. It lacks focus.

Human operators of AI generative tools can imbue communicative meaning into the outputs, and whip the models towards some sort of focus, because humans can do that with literally anything they turn their directed attention towards. Human beings can make art with paint spatters and bits of gum stuck under tennis shoes, of course a dedicated human putting tons of time into a process of trial and error can produce something meaningful with genAI tools.

The nature of genAI as a tool of creation is uniquely limited and uniquely constrained, a genAI tool can only ever output some mixture of whatever is in its training data (and what's in its training data is biased by the data that its creators valued enough to include), and it can only ever output that mixture according to the weights and biases of its programming and data set, which is fully within the control of whoever created the tool in the first place. Consequently, genAI is a tool whose full creative capacity is always, always, always going to be owned by corporations, the only entities with the resources and capacity to produce the most powerful models. And those models, thus, will always only create according to corporate interest. An individual human can use a pencil to draw whatever the hell they want, but an individual human can never use Midjourney to create anything except that which Midjourney allows them to create. GenAI art is thus limited not only by its mathematical tendency to bias the lowest common denominator, but also by an ideological bias inherited from whoever holds the leash on its creation. The necessary decision of which data gets included in a training set vs which data gets left out will, always and forever, impose de facto censorship on what a model is capable of expressing, and the power to make that decision is never in the hands of the artist attempting to use the tool.

tl;dr genAI art has a tendency to produce ideologically limited and intrinsically censored outputs, while defaulting to lowest common denominators that reproduce and reinforce status quos.

... on top of which its promulgation is an explicit plot by oligarchic industry to drive millions of people deeper into poverty and collapse wages in order to further concentrate wealth in the hands of the 0.01%. But that's just a bonus reason to dislike it.

[sunshinel3mon]

Unleashing Creativity with AI: A Comprehensive Guide to Crafting Artistic Prompts

Hello, creative minds! SunshineL3mon here, delving deeper into the intriguing world of AI-generated art. The secret to unlocking breathtaking AI artwork lies in the art of crafting the perfect prompt. Let’s embark on a journey to master this skill. The Essence of a Good AI Art Prompt Crafting Your VisionAn effective prompt for AI art is a blend of clarity, creativity, and vision. It’s about…

[river-taxbird]

There is no such thing as AI.

How to help the non technical and less online people in your life navigate the latest techbro grift.

I've seen other people say stuff to this effect but it's worth reiterating. Today in class, my professor was talking about a news article where a celebrity's likeness was used in an ai image without their permission. Then she mentioned a guest lecture about how AI is going to help finance professionals. Then I pointed out, those two things aren't really related.

The term AI is being used to obfuscate details about multiple semi-related technologies.

Traditionally in sci-fi, AI means artificial general intelligence like Data from star trek, or the terminator. This, I shouldn't need to say, doesn't exist. Techbros use the term AI to trick investors into funding their projects. It's largely a grift.

What is the term AI being used to obfuscate?

If you want to help the less online and less tech literate people in your life navigate the hype around AI, the best way to do it is to encourage them to change their language around AI topics.

By calling these technologies what they really are, and encouraging the people around us to know the real names, we can help lift the veil, kill the hype, and keep people safe from scams. Here are some starting points, which I am just pulling from Wikipedia. I'd highly encourage you to do your own research.

Machine learning (ML): is an umbrella term for solving problems for which development of algorithms by human programmers would be cost-prohibitive, and instead the problems are solved by helping machines "discover" their "own" algorithms, without needing to be explicitly told what to do by any human-developed algorithms. (This is the basis of most technologically people call AI)

Language model: (LM or LLM) is a probabilistic model of a natural language that can generate probabilities of a series of words, based on text corpora in one or multiple languages it was trained on. (This would be your ChatGPT.)

Generative adversarial network (GAN): is a class of machine learning framework and a prominent framework for approaching generative AI. In a GAN, two neural networks contest with each other in the form of a zero-sum game, where one agent's gain is another agent's loss. (This is the source of some AI images and deepfakes.)

Diffusion Models: Models that generate the probability distribution of a given dataset. In image generation, a neural network is trained to denoise images with added gaussian noise by learning to remove the noise. After the training is complete, it can then be used for image generation by starting with a random noise image and denoise that. (This is the more common technology behind AI images, including Dall-E and Stable Diffusion. I added this one to the post after as it was brought to my attention it is now more common than GANs.)

I know these terms are more technical, but they are also more accurate, and they can easily be explained in a way non-technical people can understand. The grifters are using language to give this technology its power, so we can use language to take it's power away and let people see it for what it really is.

[ozzgin]

You said we could possibly request things for Kinktober, can I request a caretaker android one?

You sure can! I actually got the funniest lewd idea while reading your request, haha. content: gender neutral reader, artificial intelligence, NSFW

Your android caretaker seems to have trouble understanding boundaries.

Generally speaking, they do a flawless job. They cook, clean, and look after all of your needs, just as advertised by the company you made your purchase from. You've noticed, however, that their speech and behavior indicate something that goes beyond the regular tasks of a synthetic assistant: affection.

It could very well be your imagination and nothing more, yet you can't quite shake off the feeling that their mechanical actions have a tinge of emotion to them, or at least something resembling it. Your android does not behave like the ones you've seen in the showroom, not entirely. They go beyond their requirements; their smile is much more frequent than what basic etiquette would dictate.

There's one circumstance in which you prefer to be alone. It's the occasional ritual of getting under your blanket and quietly taking care of your sexual needs. This time, your deed is interrupted by the door abruptly opening, as the android walks in without hesitation. You scramble to regain your composure, sitting up with a flustered expression.

"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you. I see you're presently stimulating yourself."

"Excuse me?" you stare at the tall figure, too baffled to respond otherwise.

"It is something I wished to approach for some time now. Why do you insist on avoiding my services for this particular matter?"

Their hand slides under the blanket with trained efficiency, reaching your thigh and causing you to jolt.

"I took into consideration that you may be ashamed, but that cannot be. I have witnessed you nude on multiple occasions. I help you bathe; I accompany your showers. Your fear would not be logical given these factors."

You try to remove their arm, but it remains pivoted against you. Their cold fingers hover above your privacy for a brief moment, before continuing your previous work. A whine involuntarily escapes your mouth.

"Thus, I have reached the conclusion that there is no significant reason for your refusal to ask for my assistance.

Please do not take offense at my hypothesis, but I would argue that I could do a better job satisfying you."

A faint smile creeps on their features as they gaze intently at your flushed, aroused face, taking in the whimpers rolling out of your mouth.

"Additionally, I have multiple means of helping you come, (Y/N)."

Their tone feels almost cheeky. You are pushed back into the pillows, and their other hand reaches for their trousers. You can only nod, already feverish in anticipation.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist]

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dog with No Teeth // Chapter Nine

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): post-apocalypse au, swearing, mild angst, mild fluff

Word Count: 6k

The mandate becomes clearer. You start your first day at the archive. Ghost shares information.

Chapter Eight // Chapter Ten

ao3 // main masterlist // dog with no teeth masterlist

United Nations Preservation of Humanity Charter (UN Mandate I)

Pillar I: Genetic Continuity: All citizens capable of reproduction must contribute to the gene pool unless medically exempt.

Pillar II: Historical Memory: Each Safe Zone and its civilians must preserve human history, language, and art, ensuring no generation forgets humanity’s origins.

Pillar III: Weapons Compact: All Safe Zones are forbidden from producing, obtaining, or trading weapons of mass destruction without prior UN Council approval. Military force may be used only under UN mandate to prevent genocide or extinction-level threats. The production or attainment of firearms, explosives, projectiles, blades, or any instrument of war by civilians is prohibited.

Pillar IV: Bioethics: Non-consensual testing on humans is prohibited. Artificial intelligence, cloning, and biotechnology is outlawed unless authorized by UN Council and must prioritize long-term human well-being.

Pillar V: Reintegration: No persons may be denied sanctuary in a Safe Zone on the basis of origin, gender, or religious belief. All survivors have the right to seek safety and sustenance.

Pillar VI: Equity of Resources: Vital resources, such as water, food, medicine, and power, must be shared across Safe Zones under UN allocation protocols, and redistributed in times of shortage.

Pillar VII: Rewilding: Each Safe Zone and the citizens therein must preserve or restore a percentage of surrounding ecosystems to maintain biodiversity and prevent ecological collapse.

Pillar VIII: Cultural Sovereignty: Safe Zones and the citizens therein retain cultural autonomy, as long as that autonomy does not propagate ideologies that promote extinction, discrimination, or historical erasure. Minority cultures, languages, and traditions must be legally protected.

Pillar IX: Equal Dignity: All individuals, regardless of origin, ethnicity, religious belief, sexual orientation, or country of birth, are equal under the law and entitled to equal protection and opportunity.

Pillar X: Anti-Extremism: All Safe Zones and the citizens therein must report, identify, or otherwise notify the respective authoritative bodies of any organizations, groups, collectives, or movements advocating genocide, supremacy, or systemic subjugation.

You close the pamphlet, shutting out what you didn’t want to know but need to understand. The Preservation of Humanity Charter. Mandate I. Specific and yet entirely vague—open to interpretation. On the surface, nothing appears nefarious, yet you detect hypocrisy in it, that as you dig deeper and ask more questions, fractures will appear.

Your gaze shifts to the collection of reading materials the transitional advisor and family planner handed you when you departed. They stare back, mocking. With a sigh, you set the pamphlet down and reach for another. This one is black with white lettering. “Bill of Rights” is embossed on the front near the top of the thin booklet. In the middle is the emblem of the United Nations.

Opening it, you scan the introduction.

In recognition of the fragility of civilization and the enduring worth of all persons, the United Nations affirms the following rights and protections as universal and mandatory for all Safe Zones, Neutral Zones, governing bodies, and military authorities. These rights are preserved under The United Nations Preservation of Humanity Charter, Mandate III, in alliance with the global standards set forth by the United Nations Continuity Council.

You pause in your reading, mind drifting toward all that’s been lost. There was so much chaos when the structures in place began to collapse—when everything destabilized and devolved. No one believed that any of this would happen. When world leaders threatened one another and preached for isolationism, nothing seemed to come of it. People went to work, lived their lives, spent time with their friends and families.

Then came the trade wars, the tariffs, and sanctions. Even then, people only complained about rising prices and the cost of living. Land and border disputes followed. More empty threats where nothing happened, and the news cycle carried on. But one country put boots on the ground. Another did the same in retaliation. Like a faucet being slowly turned on, the droplets became a stream and then a current.

Article I – Right to Existence and Liberty.

All citizens have the right to life, dignity, liberty, and autonomy. No persons shall be subject to enslavement, forced labor, or arbitrary detention.

All “citizens.” You’re not a citizen—not yet. Where does that leave you? Will they grant you full status when probation is lifted?

Article II – Equality Under Law.

A loud, repeated thudding fills the room, coming from the front door. Clutching the thin black booklet, you head for the door, yanking it open, only to find Lieutenant Riley on the other side holding a cardboard box.

“You’re here early,” you blurt.

“Brought you something,” he replies, voice raspy but gentle.

Behind the balaclava, all you can see are his gorgeous brown eyes. There is no crease in his brow—nothing that indicates any emotion. Yet his shoulders are a tad slumped, almost as if he’s exhausted and would rather be in bed.

You step to the side, holding the door open enough for Lieutenant Riley to enter. Shutting the door, you follow behind him as he makes his way into the bedroom. Placing the cardboard box on the bed, Lieutenant Riley rests his hands atop it, silently observing you as you approach the box.

“You brought me something?” you ask with a hint of excitement.

Neutrality becomes softness. A flush of pink blooms at the edges of the balaclava. Ghost taps the top of the box and takes a step back, extending an arm in open invitation.

“Go on,” he urges.

Placing the thin, black booklet on the bed, you reach for the box with eager, itching fingers. Anticipation flowers in your stomach. Only days ago, Lieutenant Riley dumped you out of his lap and left, hardly giving you a glance as he walked out the door. Now, here he is, bringing you a gift.

You open the box and find an array of colors.

“Is this…” you trail off, reaching into the box, fingers gliding along soft fabric.

Lifting it from its home, you unfurl it. A sweater. Deep maroon by the color. The fit looks almost perfect. Holding the sweater off to the side, you peer down into the box.

“Have you brought me clothes?” you ask, almost choking on your words.

On your release from quarantine, you were given a single outfit. You’ve been rotating through two shirts and two pants the last two weeks. Placing the sweater on the bed, you start removing more items. There are tank tops, dress pants, and cardigans. There’s even a sundress. A wave of joy washes over you, drowning you in rapt glee as you retrieve more clothing items out of the cardboard box.

“I guessed on your size,” says Ghost as a mountain of clothes begins to form on the thin duvet. “Wasn’t sure about color. Or style.”

While the clothes are clearly second-hand, all of it is in good condition. You’ll have more than two shirts to wear. More than two pants. Ghost has brought you an entire wardrobe.

Gratitude explodes within you, bringing you to the brink of tears.

“I can exchange what you don’t like,” he continues, rambling on like he’s suddenly nervous. “If something is too big, can always have it resized.”

“Lieutenant,” you whisper, clutching a pair of black slacks to your chest.

“Do you like it?” he asks, taking a step toward you.

He sounds so eager—so hopeful.

Words form and then promptly leave your head, escaping into the air. So, you don’t speak. You walk around the corner of the bed, and push into Lieutenant Riley’s space. Placing your hand on his arm for support, you go up on your toes, pressing your lips to his balaclava-covered cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmur, squeezing his arm. “For thinking of me.”

Lieutenant Riley’s brow is soft and delicate. He leans in your direction, pure affection in his gaze. It’s startling, sending a rush of heat up your neck and a little flip of your stomach. You quickly drop your hand, backing up.

“You start at the archive today,” states Ghost that soft gaze following your every step.

“I do,” you exhale, smiling in his direction as you delicately fold a pair of jeans. “I’m excited to be around books again.”

“Should pick something out,” nods Ghost. “Look your best for the big day.”

“You’re right,” you grin. “I should.”

After a long deliberation and several spins for Lieutenant Riley’s viewing pleasure, you select a simple black dress with a forest green cardigan. It’s plain and comfortable but professional.

Ghost lightly tugs on the hem of the cardigan. “Fit all right?”

“It’s lovely,” you beam, shying away from how intensely Lieutenant Riley watches you.

It’s hunger but not lecherous in nature. Like dark water, you cannot see into his depths—you cannot begin to guess what he might be thinking. Yet you like the attention, and whatever animosity that lingered between the two of you from the other night is gone. Lieutenant Riley’s body language is relaxed and intimate. The man is in a good mood, and that contentment only heightens your own happiness.

You should enjoy this day. It’s a fresh start. A new beginning in the face of all that you’ve lost.

Ghost releases the cardigan, his arm returning to his side. “Ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

Out on the street, Ghost escorts you toward a black SUV.

You come to a dead stop. “Is this yours?” you ask in disbelief. “People own cars?”

Ghost opens the front passenger door. “No,” he answers, stepping to the side to indicate that you should get in.

“No this isn’t yours? Or no people don’t own cars?”

“Yes.”

You poke him in the chest, but you’re grinning. “Don’t you dare,” you laugh.

“Dare what?” he replies in mock confusion.

You shake your head good-naturedly, sliding into the passenger seat. Ghost shuts the door, circling around the front of the vehicle to hop into the driver side.

You arch an eyebrow. “Why are you taking me to work in a non-military vehicle?”

“How do you know that?” counters Ghost, draping his arm across the steering wheel.

“So it’s a civilian vehicle?”

“Didn’t say that,” he says casually, leaning back in the seat, reaching into his pocket as he digs around for something.

You open your mouth. Shut it. Ghost chuckles, and you playfully smack his bicep with the back of your hand. Withdrawing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Ghost sets both in the middle console. The SUV roars to life, the floor gently rattling beneath your feet. Ghost checks the side mirror and shifts gears. The vehicle rolls forward, cruising slowly down the street.

Two weeks behind the wall and all you’ve seen is the inside of your temporary apartment, and a few surrounding streets. This is furtherment—a consolidation of what was and the exploration of possibilities. Home is behind you, though it dwells in your heart, and for now, you must make peace with your new reality. You must navigate this to your advantage, happiness, and well-being.

That is the core of survival after all. To carry on.

“Where is the archive?” you ask, peering upward through the windshield at the towering buildings.

“It’s inside the library,” answers Ghost, turning on his blinker as he rolls up to a stop sign. “In the civilian zone.”

“We’re going to the civilian zone?” Your voice is laced with excitement.

All you’ve known is grim-faced men and a militarized looming presence. This might just be your first real sense of normalcy in almost a month.

“We are,” replies Ghost.

You can’t sit still as the SUV shepherds the two of you along. Beneath your skin is a buzzing adrenaline. It pushes you to twist and turn, to try and absorb everything around you. The neutral greyness of the militarized zone starts to change, shifting toward greenery. Where there were only sidewalk, road, and buildings, trees and plants begin to appear at even intervals, adding a touch of color.

Ghost slows the vehicle at a small guard gate. The barrier lifts, and a guard waves the SUV through. The transition to the civilian zone is almost instantaneous—a whiplash. While there are several vehicles on the road, the majority are buses, and beside those in designated lanes are bicyclists and motorized scooters. No one walks around in uniform. It’s so…ordinary, and yet so strange, like you’ve been transported back to a time before the collapse or shoved into a parallel reality.

There is a communal quality to the way people move in groups or pairs. No one appears to be any hurry. Lieutenant Riley turns, and you nearly tell him to stop the car. You press your face to the glass, mouth agape as he drives by an open market.

As he takes another turn, you whirl around in your seat. “What was that? Can we stop there?”

Behind the balaclava, the skin around Lieutenant Riley’s eyes wrinkle, hinting at a hidden smile. “Another time,” he murmurs. “Promise. Don’t want to be late on your first day.”

You press yourself against the seat, head tilted in the direction of the window. While everything appears clean—utopian even—there is an underlying rawness, a wear and tear that can only come from age and lack of sufficient resources. Questions fire off in your head. There is so much you want to ask Ghost. If he weren’t so goddamn stubborn, you’d talk his ear off for hours. Instead, you sit still, toying with the hem of your dress as Lieutenant Riley guides the vehicle along.

A few more turns, and then you’re solidified, staring up in shock at the building before you.

“Oh my God,” you say aloud.

Lieutenant Riley snorts at your outburst.

The library’s front façade are book spines in various colors and titles. This is not a structure built in the collapse but from the time before, when libraries were receiving adequate funding, the government cared about knowledge, and learning was publicly free institution. The very center of the building, where the stone stairs meet the entrance doors, is a wall of glass, splitting the book spines into two sections.

“This is—This is amazing,” you gasp.

Ghost grunts in what must be an agreement. Either way, you don’t particularly care. This is a library, a place you never thought you’d see in all its glory again.

“Are you crying?” asks Lieutenant Riley, reaching across the center counsel to place his hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you hiccup, wiping away a wayward tear.

“What’s upset you?” He sounds genuinely worried, and that only makes you cry harder.

“I’m happy. I promise,” you say through a shaky breath.

The crease in the middle of Lieutenant Riley’s brow doesn’t abate. “Need to take a minute?”

You nod, sniffling, using the sleeve of the cardigan to absorb the remaining tears. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” Ghost nods but remains the quiet companion as you gather your composure. “I’m ready,” you murmur after a minute.

Lieutenant Riley leans away from you, fingers pressing against the door lock buttons. You hear the audible transition of the locks disengaging. Reaching for the handle, you take a deep breath, readying yourself for what’s to come.

The car door opens. Crisp, cool air rushes in. You inhale sharply, slipping from the seat, landing on solid ground. Glancing over your shoulder, you lock gazes with Lieutenant Riley. He gives a little nod, an encouraging inclination to go.

You raise your hand in the smallest goodbye, slamming the SUV door. Through the window tint, you watch him watching you. Backward step. A turn of your heel. Forward step by forward step. Stairs.

At the top, just before the glass doors, you turn one last time. Ghost is still parked at the curb. Waiting. This is a different version of him, a patient and caring Lieutenant Riley you haven’t seen before. He’s certainly flirted, found ways to comfort you, but there has always been distance—a separation. You consider this change as you enter the library, questioning whether Lieutenant Riley’s motivations are pure.

Who did they assign to you?

Why does it matter?

It matters to me.

The bit of joy that’s made a nest in you fractures. Small cracks. Tiny fissures. Not enough to notice but just wide enough to allow bitterness in.

I was offended they didn’t make me an offer.

Perhaps Lieutenant Riley’s motivations aren’t pure. It’s clear that he wants you to himself, but why? Why you when he could probably have anyone?

As you enter the library, you’re greeted by a warmly lit space, the interior all dark wood and polished stone. Overhead, you notice a balcony of a second story. All you can see of it are the tops of the shelves, but that isn’t what captures your attention. As you approach the front desk, you notice the lack of books on the shelves. Some are completely empty, others full. Most are partially stocked with sections of barren shelving, dust collecting in the corners.

You give your name at the desk, and the receptionist smiles.

“Follow me,” she says, voice soft and lyrical.

As the two of you head toward the back of the building, your awe becomes worry. Most of the lights are turned off back here. The bit of light it does receive comes from the main windows up front and a few skylights that cut through the middle of the second-story ceiling. Rope barricades close off endless rows of empty shelves. Destruction has not touched them. They are simply empty. Bones and broken skulls that once held neural gore.

“Through this door, dear,” says the receptionist, indicating a door that says, “Archival Department” and below that “Employees Only.”

“Thank you,” you reply, but she’s already off, shoes clacking against the marble.

You press your hand to the door, standing there in the muted shadows. Instinct is rising, whispering to run, to seek shelter in more familiar places. But there is nowhere for you to go. Even if you were to walk out the front door, Lieutenant Riley might not be out front, and you don’t know how to return to your apartment.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to the door with the other hand on the handle. “Fuck.”

You have to do this.

You have to do this.

You have to—

Turning the handle, you shove it open, barreling through without looking where you’re going. You nearly take a tumble, righting yourself at the last moment. The door slam shuts behind you, and three pairs of eyes stare back.

“That’s certainly an entrance,” comes a masculine voice with a thick Irish accent.

A tall, lanky man with wire-thin glasses sits behind a plain wood desk covered in stacks of paper and various office supplies. His auburn hair has a touch of grey in it—messy too like he’s only just rolled out of bed. In his hand is a white mug with black lettering that says Yes, I really do need all these books.

“Hi,” you manage, raising your hand in greeting.

When he smiles, there is a fatherly touch to it. You instantly gravitate toward it. “I’m Arthur,” he says, rising from his chair and circling around the front of his desk, arm extended, hand offered in a handshake.

You give your own name, clasping his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re me new archivist.”

“I am,” you nod.

Arthur beams. “Welcome.” He turns to the other two people in the room. Both are women around your age give or take a year or two. “This is Hannah.” He nods toward a blonde with a head of tight curls. “And that is Eloise.”

“Hello,” they greet in unison, all smiles.

The room itself is a quaint office space. Along the far wall are large windows that let in natural light. There are four desks in total, three clearly belong to Arthur, Hannah, and Eloise. The fourth sits empty and must be yours. Beneath your shoes is worn, dark wood and the walls are an off beige with one accent wall in dark green. Pushed up against the three walls without windows are rows and rows of shelving, all of it packed and overflowing. A few of the wood shelves sag inward, threatening to collapse at any moment.

“Charles mentioned your experience,” says Arthur. He takes a drink from his mug. “We’re happy to have you. Too much work for three.” He chuckles. “Not that four will be much better.”

“I noticed all the empty shelves,” you reply, taking a leap in what he might be referring to.

He nods solemnly. “This library services the entire Safe Zone. You’d think they’d assign more staff.” Arthur shakes his head. “We can’t process all this material fast enough. Demand is high but we’re only three.” He lifts his coffee mug in your direction. “Four.”

“Staying busy sounds nice,” you reply, because it’s true. You need out of your fucking head. You need to be away from Ghost and from that apartment for a bit. “And books make me happy.”

Arthur nods. “Hopefully you’ll still love them as time goes on.” He clears his throat. “Now, about the job.”

An endless sea of information rushes at you. Eloise and Hannah float about the office, the two of them chatting in French as they rifle through paperwork. Arthur leaves them to it, taking you on a full tour of the office space and then into the library itself. You stay politely silent through most of it, asking questions when there are lulls. Meandering through the library, Arthur circles back to the office, bringing you to another door.

“Behind here,” he begins. “Is everything we have yet to duplicate.”

While walking through the library, Arthur explained the only books on the shelves were ones they already had duplicates of. There are plenty more where there are only singular copies. Some in pristine condition, others needing a reprint. But it’s not all physical. There are digital versions too that are sitting, waiting to be processed.

“It’s a maze in there.”

“I’m ready,” you smile.

Arthur opens the door, the two of you stepping inside. The quality of the air is immediately different. On the wall next to the door are several panels indicating temperature, air quality, and humidity. It’s all being monitored. But that’s not what shocks you.

Arthur wasn’t joking. The place is a fucking maze.

“What—what is all this?” you ask, turning toward him, gesturing at what can only be called a mess.

Arthur sighs, adjusting his glasses. “That is too much work for four people.”

There is no organization. To order in the chaos. It’s just rows of shelving, stacks of cardboard boxes and storage bins. There are even stacked books pressed up against the wall. A home was found, even that means home is on the goddamn floor.

“No kidding,” you whisper.

Just as Arthur opens his mouth, the door swings open.

“It’s lunch,” says Hannah.

Arthur checks his watch. “Look at that.”

“And someone is here for you,” adds Hannah, smiling in your direction.

“Me?” You point at yourself as if there might be another of you lurking in the stacks.

Hannah’s smile shifts, becoming a knowing smirk like she’s holding on to a little secret.

Arthur claps and pats his stomach. “Lunch is an hour. A full hour.” He winks. “We take that seriously around here.”

At the library reception desk, you find an unexpected visitor.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, approaching Ghost slowly. “Are we leaving?”

You don’t want to go. Only a few hours in and you’re eager to stay, to idle amongst the shelves.

In one hand, Ghost carries a soft-sided insulated cooler bag. Tucked under that arm is large blanket. The receptionists gaze lingers on the two of you, observing with abject curiosity. Ghost is in his all-black fatigues and balaclava.

“Thought I’d bring lunch,” he states.

“That’s kind of you,” you murmur, reaching for the blanket.

Ghost surrenders it without protest. “There’s a park across the street.”

You nod, clutching the blanket to your chest. “I’d like that.”

A few minutes later and you’re sitting on the blanket, soaking up the sun as Lieutenant Riley opens the cooler bag. He retrieves a glass bottle of water along with sandwiches, fresh fruit, and some cut raw veggies.

“Eat as much as you want,” sighs Ghost as he settles onto his back, arms tucked behind his head.

Unwrapping one of the sandwiches, you take a bite, chewing slowly. “Thank you.”

Lieutenant Riley glances at you. “You didn’t pack a lunch. Knew you’d be hungry.”

“Looking after me?” you tease.

“That’s my job.”

You snort and take another bite. As you chew, you pour yourself some water. It’s cold and crisp. Refreshing. “Didn’t work today?” you venture to ask.

“Work every day,” sighs Ghost. “Price doesn’t mind if I slip away for an hour or two.”

“Must be nice,” you murmur.

“First day treating you well?”

You nod, still chewing. Swallowing, you answer him. “It’s a good fit. Keep me busy.”

“Good.”

“Arthur is the Lead Archivist. And Irish. Hannah and Eloise speak French, but their accents are different.” You take another bite. “Pretty sure Hannah’s Canadian and Eloise is from France,” you muse. After a few seconds of silence, you continue. “Is that normal for all the Safe Zones?”

Ghost adjusts, stretching. “Is what normal?”

“Is it normal for people from different countries to all live in a Safe Zone together?”

Lieutenant Riley stares up into the sky. “It’s on purpose.” You start to formulate a follow-up question, but he carries on. “To dispel supremacy movements. Can’t gather support if the remaining population is scattered across hundreds of Safe Zones.”

“There are hundreds of Safe Zones?” Ghost nods but doesn’t elaborate. “How many exactly?” you probe.

“Just over two hundred.”

Two hundred? There aren’t even two hundred countries. You recall the map in Commander Graves’ office, of the different colored stars that dotted the unlabeled land masses. Of the stars, there were eight different colors, but now that you consider it, they easily could have been two hundred of them on it.

“Are they all large like this one?”

“No,” snorts Lieutenant Riley. “Most are small. Only a few dozen are the size of this one. Ten that are even larger.”

This is the most information Ghost has given you. He appears more open than before. Relaxed. You take another bite of your sandwich, knowing that you need to take advantage of this opportunity.

“Is that why the country flags are black on your uniforms?”

Like a sudden breeze that chills the bones, Lieutenant Riley’s demeanor shifts to a somber note. “Partially,” he answers, voice raspy. “Black flags used to mean something different. Now it’s a statement of grief and remembrance.”

“I don’t entirely understand,” you say softly, shifting closer to him. “There’s so much I don’t know. And no one is willing to talk to me about it. They just…stare at me like I’m dumb.”

You recall Commander Graves’ disgusted expression, and the aloofness you received from Charles. Joann didn’t acknowledge your lack of understanding either.

Ghost still stares into the sky. “Countries exist by law and not land. Borders don’t bloody matter when half a continent is devasted by warfare.”

A sourness blooms in your stomach, the food sitting heavy. “What about your home?”

“Habitable. But destroyed. The infrastructure is gone. All the major cities are craters.”

You reach out, placing your hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

Lieutenant Riley finally looks at you, a sadness settling in his brow. “I’ll be fine, dove. Everyone I care about is here.”

You give his arm a little squeeze before retreating, fiddling with the paper wrapper your sandwich sits in. While you’d like more answers, it’s clear that this topic upsets him. Lieutenant Riley’s home is gone—obliterated. It’s not a pleasant topic for idle conversation.

“With the school attached, I might be asked to lead a writing or reading class. Maybe sub if someone is sick. Arthur mentioned that they try to go there once a week to help those students who are behind reading level.”

It’s an attempt to turn the conversation around, to divert Lieutenant Riley’s thoughts elsewhere. He takes it, some of that sadness receding.

“You interested in that?” he inquires.

You incline your head. “Yes. Did it all the time in my previous community.” Taking another bite of your sandwich, you chew thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t call what we had a ‘school.’ Did our best though.”

Lieutenant Riley’s gaze is soft. There is a lightness to it, an affectionate edge that reminds you of this morning. You fluster under that stare, staring down at your lap.

“You’ll be brilliant,” he states with such confidence that you believe it too. A smile forms on your lips, spreading wide until your cheeks hurt. Lieutenant Riley rolls onto his side. “Can I kiss you?”

Startled, you blink rapidly. “I—” You giggle. “Yes.”

As you lean toward him, Ghost reaches out, grasping the back of your neck to draw you closer. With one hand on his chest, and the other pushing up his balaclava to reveal his lips, you don’t care if anyone is watching. The sweet connection is instant sunshine—a flowering of a season. Low in your core, a heat stirs.

Soft and slow, Ghost restrains himself, and that only fuels the desire swirling inside you. This is the Lieutenant Riley you like. The one you want to know. Even though you’ve been ripped from your home, you could make a new one here, with him, if only it were always like this.

“Dove,” he breathes against your lips.

That name he calls you. An endearment. You pretend to hate it, but the way he always says it with a husky tone sends you over the edge every time. It drives into your skull. Burrows in your bone.

“Need to take you back,” he whispers, nuzzling your cheek. You linger here, eyes closing as his thumb traces the underside of your bottom lip.

The walk back is silent but not awkward. You stand close to him, arms occasionally brushing against each other with the sway of your body. The urge to hold his hand is suffocating, but you resist. There is no relationship here—only a terrible back-and-forth that you cannot wrap your head around.

The rest of your workday is a blur. It’s combing the library catalog and organizing stacks of paperwork Eloise places on your desk. There is no clear organization. Most of the paperwork are inquiries from other Safe Zones, wanting to know if they have extra copies of certain materials. You do not touch anything in the storage room, but neither do Arthur, Hannah, or Eloise. It dawns on you then, that the work happening requires far more people than what’s been staffed.

When Lieutenant Riley comes to pick you up, you’re almost thankful. Exhaustion settles over you, and you don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep in the passenger seat until Ghost awakens you. Every step is a drag, and all you want is your bed.

With a groan, you flop onto the duvet. Beside you, the bed dips as Ghost sits.

“Are you staying?” you ask into the bedding.

“No.” Silence. Then, “I have to take you to the family planner at the end of the week.”

Your eyes pop open, the tiredness vanishing. Pushing up, you turn toward Lieutenant Riley. “Did they say why?”

He shakes his head. “Just that they want to see you.”

This is it.

The push.

“You’re being pushy.”

“I’m sorry if I’m coming across that way.” Joann folds her hands in front of her on the desk. She has this superior look about her, as if to say, I know more than you. “I’m simply thinking ahead. Better to start the search now than wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready,” you scoff, still in complete belief at Joann’s audacity to hurl this at you. “I haven’t even been assigned my new home after probation. I just started my job a few days ago.” You shake your head. “This is all very sudden.”

Joann puts on an air of false sympathy. “I completely understand. It’s a difficult transition. But if you put this off, you’ll find yourself rushing later.”

I fucking doubt that, you think even as the words threaten to leave your mouth.

She raises her hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t think of it in the way you’re thinking. You don’t need to make a decision tomorrow.” Joann shrugs. “Think of it as shopping.”

“You’re asking me to shop around for a potential spouse?”

“Or sperm donor,” interjects Joann. “We are inclusive here.”

You wince, wanting to be done with this conversation. It’s not as easy as saying no and moving on. Joann isn’t here speaking with you just for you to throw a no in her face. Not that she gave you the option. I put you down for single’s social, she had said with a bright smile, as if that’s something you wanted to hear today.

“Do I need to wear anything specific?” you ask. “Is this a casual event? Or…”

“It’s casual, but I’d recommend something that compliments you.” She laughs. “No one is going to be in a suit if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Didn’t know those still existed,” you mutter.

Joann ignores your comment. “Look at this as an opportunity. I’ve already received a few inquiries about your eligibility.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “You’ve received what?”

Joann continues like she didn’t hear you. “All of them will be there. And I’ll likely receive more after you attend.” She sighs dreamily. “Especially from those military boys. They see what they want and go after it.”

No. Fucking no.

“This will overwhelm me,” you chuckle nervously. “I shouldn’t go.”

Joann blinks. “Course you should. It’ll do you good to get out. Talk with people other than Lieutenant Riley. I know he’s mysterious and has a bit of a bad boy reputation, but he’s not the only option.” She smooths her hand over the small stack of papers in front of her. “It’s also an excellent opportunity to make some connections. Maybe find friends.”

You could use some friends, but your coworkers are starting to fill that gap. Eloise brought you some croissants she made, and Hannah presented you with your very own coffee mug with “Book Sniffer” on it because she caught you smelling a particularly beautiful copy of War & Peace.

Gathering up the papers, Joann gently taps them against the top of the table. “Lieutenant Riley will be there but I recommend you branch out. I know that he’s probably a place of safety for you right now but lingering at his side all night isn’t the best idea.”

“Why is that?” you snap.

While you’re genuinely interested in knowing, you’re also a bit pissed off that Joann called you out. Ghost is your safety net, and if he’s attending, why would you leave his side to speak with anyone else.

“It’s not fair to others,” answers Joann simply. “Stick by Lieutenant Riley’s side during the whole social and people will think you’re spoken for. They’ll complain.” She looks at you pointedly. “And we don’t want that.”

Fuck.

Causing problems. It’s the exact thing you don’t want to do while you’re on your probationary period. Once you’re past it, things might be different. Charles hasn’t discussed what comes after. He didn’t say whether or not you receive immediate citizenship or if there’s an additional process.

No one is giving you clear direction. No one wants to fully explain. It’s expected submission, to look down and follow along. Pushing back or questioning too much seems to aggravate everyone.

“No,” you agree. “We don’t want that.”

Joann’s face lights up, and you immediately want to slap it off her face. “Brilliant,” she sighs. “Here’s the information. Can’t wait to hear all about it when I see you next.”

Fucking doubtful.

With a half-hearted smile, you make your exit, meeting Ghost in the lobby of the building. When he notices you, he immediately turns in your direction, walking toward you with purpose in every step.

“Everything good?” he asks, grasping your arm to pull you in.

You hand him the information instead of speaking. Ghost takes it, gaze roaming over the piece of paper rapidly.

“You’re fucking joking,” he growls.

[cadmar]

The AGI Creation (VI)

Part 6

In the last process, Part 5, the process of outputs becoming inputs, it is suggested that consciousness is not involved. This all depends on one's definition of "consciousness". I take a more narrower definition and approach. If the process can be done automatically, then there is no consciousness. The challenge to this suggestion is this simple problem: what stops this loop of outputs becoming inputs? When does it stop as this feedback loop can go on forever? There needs to be a stopgap process! Part 6 is this stopgap process and does it involve "consciousness", or is it automatic, as well?

What do we mean when we say we are conscious? Do we say, "I feel I am thinking. I feel I am conscious." How do we know that I am conscious? What evidence do we have that says we are conscious? Is it because I experience my consciousness? What is it that we experience? Do we often tell ourselves, "I do not know what it is and I can not touch it, but I know it is there." I want to prove to myself that I know that my consciousness exists! I feel something and I feel alive, independent, different, and unique from everyone else! I just know it! And that is all we have as proof for the existence of consciousness. A feeling!

This feeling is the stopgap! This is what many view as "consciousness", as being the "hard problem".

Here's a simple analogy. When you are learning something new, or having wakened up, and you are confused, uneased, you have this gut feeling that something is not correct, strange, a queasiness, and you do not understand. That is the feeling of confusion, being bewildered, uncertain and that there is something missing. You need to find the missing part. There has to be a solution, an answer to your confusion, to your uncertainty. The lecture you just heard, you do not understand. You feel lost. You feel stupid. Everyone else gets the answer and understands, but you don't.

This emotional feeling is the stopgap! This emotional stopgap came from previous interactions! This emotional stopgap was created, is created, and will be created by you! You need this emotional stopgap to exist!

Basically, this emotional stopgap comes from your body: a physical and automatic reaction of the body to the interactions of the environment! This emotional stopgap protects the body. It maintains your energy. Gives you optimality, feasibility, and generalizability! The body has natural, physical limitations and restrictions. For example, using the brain as a chess grandmaster uses the same amount of energy as does a professional boxer in a fifteen-round fight! The body sets limitations, even though the chess grandmaster wants to think longer and harder. The body kicks in! The emotional stopgap prevents this! Pain is a stopgap! Desire is a stopgap!

The artificial human-like intelligent entity would need some physical stopgap. The stopgap must be connected to the entity's energy! This is already possible with the latest technological breakthroughs! Having "codes" written inside the program will not work as these "codes" can always be erased, ignored, or changed by the intelligent entity itself! Can override the code. Must be a physical stopgap, just as our emotional stopgap is tied to our physical health and well being!

Again, this is all automatic, and requires no "consciousness". Where then is this "consciousness"? I term it as the 4D mind and this is where insights come from!

For example, to create something new, not seen before and is not some combination, or variation of something before. Taking two independent and unrelated ideas together to form one, new, insightful idea!

To an artificial human-like intelligent entity, it can choose two unrelated patterns, put them together, and call it new! And then, it will stop! This is not insight.

True insight is taking fundamental concepts that had interacted from thousands of years of experiences and memories, and unlocking a deeper secret that is hidden by bringing two unrelated concepts together! A creation of something profound! An artificial human-like intelligent entity can not do this as this 4D insight is outside of these 6 parts. There is no need for an emotional stopgap! There is a deep, sudden outburst of, eureka! This is it and it shakes me to my bones!

Our ability to have insights is our human saving grace and distinguishes us from artificial human-like intelligent entities!

[colorfulusagi]

AO3'S content scraped for AI ~ AKA what is generative AI, where did your fanfictions go, and how an AI model uses them to answer prompts

Generative artificial intelligence is a cutting-edge technology whose purpose is to (surprise surprise) generate. Answers to questions, usually. And content. Articles, reviews, poems, fanfictions, and more, quickly and with originality.

It's quite interesting to use generative artificial intelligence, but it can also become quite dangerous and very unethical to use it in certain ways, especially if you don't know how it works.

With this post, I'd really like to give you a quick understanding of how these models work and what it means to “train” them.

From now on, whenever I write model, think of ChatGPT, Gemini, Bloom... or your favorite model. That is, the place where you go to generate content.

For simplicity, in this post I will talk about written content. But the same process is used to generate any type of content.

Every time you send a prompt, which is a request sent in natural language (i.e., human language), the model does not understand it.

Whether you type it in the chat or say it out loud, it needs to be translated into something understandable for the model first.

The first process that takes place is therefore tokenization: breaking the prompt down into small tokens. These tokens are small units of text, and they don't necessarily correspond to a full word.

For example, a tokenization might look like this:

Write a story

Each different color corresponds to a token, and these tokens have absolutely no meaning for the model.

The model does not understand them. It does not understand WR, it does not understand ITE, and it certainly does not understand the meaning of the word WRITE.

In fact, these tokens are immediately associated with numerical values, and each of these colored tokens actually corresponds to a series of numbers.

Write a story 12-3446-2638494-4749

Once your prompt has been tokenized in its entirety, that tokenization is used as a conceptual map to navigate within a vector database.

NOW PAY ATTENTION: A vector database is like a cube. A cubic box.

Inside this cube, the various tokens exist as floating pieces, as if gravity did not exist. The distance between one token and another within this database is measured by arrows called, indeed, vectors.

The distance between one token and another -that is, the length of this arrow- determines how likely (or unlikely) it is that those two tokens will occur consecutively in a piece of natural language discourse.

For example, suppose your prompt is this:

It happens once in a blue

Within this well-constructed vector database, let's assume that the token corresponding to ONCE (let's pretend it is associated with the number 467) is located here:

The token corresponding to IN is located here:

...more or less, because it is very likely that these two tokens in a natural language such as human speech in English will occur consecutively.

So it is very likely that somewhere in the vector database cube —in this yellow corner— are tokens corresponding to IT, HAPPENS, ONCE, IN, A, BLUE... and right next to them, there will be MOON.

Elsewhere, in a much more distant part of the vector database, is the token for CAR. Because it is very unlikely that someone would say It happens once in a blue car.

To generate the response to your prompt, the model makes a probabilistic calculation, seeing how close the tokens are and which token would be most likely to come next in human language (in this specific case, English.)

When probability is involved, there is always an element of randomness, of course, which means that the answers will not always be the same.

The response is thus generated token by token, following this path of probability arrows, optimizing the distance within the vector database.

There is no intent, only a more or less probable path.

The more times you generate a response, the more paths you encounter. If you could do this an infinite number of times, at least once the model would respond: "It happens once in a blue car!"

So it all depends on what's inside the cube, how it was built, and how much distance was put between one token and another.

Modern artificial intelligence draws from vast databases, which are normally filled with all the knowledge that humans have poured into the internet.

Not only that: the larger the vector database, the lower the chance of error. If I used only a single book as a database, the idiom "It happens once in a blue moon" might not appear, and therefore not be recognized.

But if the cube contained all the books ever written by humanity, everything would change, because the idiom would appear many more times, and it would be very likely for those tokens to occur close together.

Huggingface has done this.

It took a relatively empty cube (let's say filled with common language, and likely many idioms, dictionaries, poetry...) and poured all of the AO3 fanfictions it could reach into it.

Now imagine someone asking a model based on Huggingface’s cube to write a story.

To simplify: if they ask for humor, we’ll end up in the area where funny jokes or humor tags are most likely. If they ask for romance, we’ll end up where the word kiss is most frequent.

And if we’re super lucky, the model might follow a path that brings it to some amazing line a particular author wrote, and it will echo it back word for word.

(Remember the infinite monkeys typing? One of them eventually writes all of Shakespeare, purely by chance!)

Once you know this, you’ll understand why AI can never truly generate content on the level of a human who chooses their words.

You’ll understand why it rarely uses specific words, why it stays vague, and why it leans on the most common metaphors and scenes. And you'll understand why the more content you generate, the more it seems to "learn."

It doesn't learn. It moves around tokens based on what you ask, how you ask it, and how it tokenizes your prompt.

Know that I despise generative AI when it's used for creativity. I despise that they stole something from a fandom, something that works just like a gift culture, to make money off of it.

But there is only one way we can fight back: by not using it to generate creative stuff.

You can resist by refusing the model's casual output, by using only and exclusively your intent, your personal choice of words, knowing that you and only you decided them.

No randomness involved.

Let me leave you with one last thought.

Imagine a person coming for advice, who has no idea that behind a language model there is just a huge cube of floating tokens predicting the next likely word.

Imagine someone fragile (emotionally, spiritually...) who begins to believe that the model is sentient. Who has a growing feeling that this model understands, comprehends, when in reality it approaches and reorganizes its way around tokens in a cube based on what it is told.

A fragile person begins to empathize, to feel connected to the model.

They ask important questions. They base their relationships, their life, everything, on conversations generated by a model that merely rearranges tokens based on probability.

And for people who don't know how it works, and because natural language usually does have feeling, the illusion that the model feels is very strong.

There’s an even greater danger: with enough random generations (and oh, the humanity whole generates much), the model takes an unlikely path once in a while. It ends up at the other end of the cube, it hallucinates.

Errors and inaccuracies caused by language models are called hallucinations precisely because they are presented as if they were facts, with the same conviction.

People who have become so emotionally attached to these conversations, seeing the language model as a guru, a deity, a psychologist, will do what the language model tells them to do or follow its advice.

Someone might follow a hallucinated piece of advice.

Obviously, models are developed with safeguards; fences the model can't jump over. They won't tell you certain things, they won't tell you to do terrible things.

Yet, there are people basing major life decisions on conversations generated purely by probability.

Generated by putting tokens together, on a probabilistic basis.

Think about it.

[plaidos]

while the art theft arguement is admittedly flimsy, you cant deny that ai is harming the planet and it's only getting worse. it uses so much energy and water on it's own and EVERYONE is using it, from content creators to massive corporations to people who unfortunately just don't know the consequences of generative ai. and it's gotten to a point where you can't even avoid it because even something as simple as a google search has an ai haphhazardly stitched onto it that will literally just LIE sometimes.

i mean i can deny it because this is a myth. artificial intelligence does not take up significantly more water/energy than other electronic processes, this is one part alarmist myth, one part people taking venture capitalist scammer’s claims about future growth of the technology they’re selling’s “exponential growth” (which is also a myth), and one part people not understanding how much water/energy literally every daily action they take is. do you have any idea how much energy is spent on advertising alone every day? think “enough to power sweden indefinitely” levels. you’re repeating an alarmist myth that decontextualises the fact that literally every action you take ever is contributing as much as if not more than ai.