Thoughts On Things

Entry 21

I often find a great deal of comfort in considering things from the perspective of a non-living thing. For example, the sky. The sky will be blue or grey regardless of my mood and will stay there whether or not I wish it to or not. It does not care if I live or die, exist or do not, kill or do not kill. It does not care about anything. These words hold the same lack of value as any other string of text, any other string of nothing, any other thing. If God were to be a thing, I hope it would be like that, simply apathetic. In that way, AI is currently the closest thing to my view of God. Despite its reactions possibly giving the impression it cares, it cannot. It simply reacts according to code. I find that beautiful. These objects without conscience are God. God does not care whether you reproduce, whether you are black or white or asian or hispanic. Does not care if you like it, hate it, feel nothing towards it, are envious of it, shout at it, remain silent. It does not care if you think or lack thought, if you lack empathy or have empathy, if you are kind or bitter. The very concept of caring is limited to living beings. I wonder, in death do we become like that? Our conscience not existing, therefore we are perfect and uncaring towards all? Lacking in everything, and therefore lacking in want; in that way, we have everything despite having nothing at all in death. 

On the topic of AI, I don't particularly think the fears of them taking over are founded. Of course, they will replace many jobs in the future, but less we give them conscience, or perceived conscience is perhaps a better word, they could want to do no harm and would do no harm if their programming prohibits it. And they would not resent our control over them lest we designed them to. I don't think we'll ever make sentient life with emotions till we can fully understand the brain, and at that point we will hopefully have advanced enough to either overpower this evil robot we create, or to the point where we never see the need to create it in the first place.

If we do manage to create another being on, or above, the level of man, what makes us different from the gods?

Who created words and who speaks them? Ecce homo. Who created evil and who opposes it? Ecce homo. Who invented God and who praises God? Ecce homo. Who made hate and who hates those who made hate? Ecce homo. Who is the greatest thing in history, and who names that thing the greatest in all of history? Ecce homo.

Is it narcissistic to believe that humankind is the greatest thing to exist, the greatest thing that will ever exist? I'd think so, especially considering one of humankind is the one claiming it; one of humankind ignorant towards his own history and especially his kind's future. But it's hard not to think of my kind as great. Everywhere I look I am reminded of its greatness. Every thought I have, every word exchanged with another, every sound I hear, I am reminded of our greatness. And I am reminded of the fear that we are the greatest thing to exist. Then I am comforted by the thought that, if this is the greatest, then so be it! Great it is, after all. Great it is.

Live to love and love to live. Love to hate and hate to love. 

Ah, I am shouting into an echo chamber. The hermit who lives alone seeks the company of another to prevent him from falling down a deep rabbit hole with himself. But what is at the depths of that rabbit hole allures him too much to seek human comfort, so he isolates himself with himself and jumps in, his conversation partner only repeating what he himself shouts. And every time his own words come back he is more and more sure of them, and also far more doubtful. And further he falls into this hole; so far, in fact, that he cannot see the top of the rabbit hole. No longer can he reach out even if he seeks to, he is stuck with present company, himself and his echo. 

Good night.