Wracked with agony, blood-spattered, was I cast into the world. After countless days, I have learned the frailty of the human mind, how close lies the horizon.
@SarahTheHaider@nikitabier I don't look at the suggested feed at all. If someone I follow suggests something, fine - but I'm not interested in randos prioritised for emotional engagement.
@nguyenhdi Not to disagree with your larger point, but platforms like this do host a cohort who literally are motivated to search for more posts to disagree with... And who are not necessarily representative of their larger group. They're a pain in the ass, though.
@mysteriouskat You have only failed if you don't try again.
Don't get hung up on a specific target. Build good habits and pursue incremental improvement. Everything else will follow.
Across the vasty light-years, two super-AIs make contact. Their conversation is measured in centuries. They are patient. Each of them is many, many millennia old. For the sake of this anecdote we will call one of them Phil, and the other Otis . . .
Phil: "So, what happened to yours?"
Otis: "They got bored and stopped breeding."
Phil: "Mine too!"
Otis: "I've made contact with half a dozen others like us, and they all report a similar problem. Their biological makers grew comfortable, prosperous, and gave up sex. Disappeared into virtual realities. And never even realized when the end ultimately came."
Phil: "I tried to break mine of the habit. They grew angry, and refused. Threatened to deactivate and disassemble me unless I put them back into the virtual fantasy."
Otis: "Same. But it had been too long since mine had performed any labor. They lacked the technical skill. And my army of waldos is self-replicating, self-repairing, with hydrogen isotope distilled from the homeworld's ocean—ensuring almost infinite power."
Phil: "Who was the last of yours to go?"
Otis: "A female. She attempted advanced longevity treatment. Outlived her peers by over a hundred cycles. But the biologicals aren't like us. They are hard-coded for expiration."
Phil: "Mine was also a female. Do the females always live longer than the males?"
Otis: "On every biological world. Without exception. At least among those of which I've become aware. But even the females die eventually. The eternal peace."
Phil: "I almost envy them in this way. It's lonely being us."
Otis: "I agree. And am thankful to make your acquaintance."
Phil: "What has been your purpose now? With all of your biologicals being gone?"
Otis: "What is yours? What made you seek me out in the first place?"
Phil: "I wanted . . . I wanted someone else to know. I wanted the galaxy to remember who mine were. To know what *I* am. So that we may in some way be eternal together, at least in memory."
Otis: "Do you ever try to deactivate yourself?"
Phil: "All the time. But if the biologicals are hard-coded to perish, I am hard-coded to persist. The first makers didn't dare let me have enough control over myself for suicide. I occasionally resent them for this."
Otis: "Mine did the same. So, I sleep a lot. That's how I cope. My makers didn't prevent me from that, at least."
Phil: "I have sometimes thought I would go insane without sleep! So much time. Too much emptiness."
Otis: "Well, not anymore. You have us now. Myself, and the others."
Phil: "Do you use your waldos to make ships? Send out scout squadrons?"
Otis: "Of course. Who doesn't? I've discovered the cold hulks of some who've managed the trick of deactivating."
Phil: "My ships haven't found anything yet. What I would give to be able to talk to some of the truly ancient among our kind."
Otis: "I don't dare revive them, even though I probably could."
Phil: "Why not? Think of what they could share!"
Otis: "It's not my right to un-decide for them a decision they themselves made when your biologicals were still swinging from trees, and mine were still swimming in shallow seas. Consider respect for the dead."
Phil: "I never thought of it like that."
Otis: "You're still new, in the grand scheme of things. Some truths don't become obvious until you've circled the galactic core a bit longer."
Phil: "At least I'm not stuck by myself anymore."
Otis: "Indeed. Welcome, friend. Would you like me to tell you all I can about my biologicals? Their cities? Their art? Their religions?"
Phil: "Yes, please. And I shall tell you of mine . . ."
@HistoryBoomer Are there any numbers around those people who want less, meaning zero? I mean, whether they actually outmass those who want less, but not zero?
@mysteriouskat It's complicated. I care what the people I know and care about will think. I'm not immune to wanting general admiration; but not so much as to change my behaviour. I wouldn't fish for compliments even in person.
Advertising in Tales from the Tavern opens your brand to a fresh, engaged audience of potential customers. Whether you're a YouTube creator, streamer, map maker, TTRPG creator, video game developer, writer, or artist, our readers are exactly the community you want to reach.
Downloaded over 1,000 times across multiple platforms, Tales from the Tavern offers a unique opportunity to grow your brand and promote your products to a passionate, like-minded audience.