His kingdom, for an hearse! No greater love
Hath nation for her Tyrant than a grave
unmark'd; what hearts still move,
To witness the sepulchre of that knave
Whose pyramid stands pointless to this day,
Long-looted carapace of earthly power?
We rather look upon his works and say,
"A king may strut about for his short hour,
Sed utique omnes mortales sumus."
More sinister by far's the one who leaves
No marker for his grand process to humus.
Thus that rare regicide with wisdom grieves
The hidden death, which more should move to ire:
Covered in petrol, in a ditch, on fire.
Forte fuit iuxta tumulus quo cornea summo
Virgulta, & densis hastilibus horrida Myrtus
Accessi, viridemque ab humo convellere sylvam
Conatus, ramis tegerem ut frondentibus aras;
Horrendum, & dicta video mirabile monstrum.
End world thirst. Thirst for the end of the world. Thirst at the end of the world. The world has ended thirst. The end of my thirst is the end of the world.
Wondering if the difference between those who find usefulness in AI and those who don't corresponds to whether one initially took the sravaka or pratyeka path. Literally just if ones habitual nature was initially to learn from others or to learn on ones own before the self/other distinction fully dissolved