@IndSocEnjoyer i considered engineering smthing like this after chatGPT shockingly nailed an image to insane degree. ive never seen someone talk about it so this is interesting. i didnt consider a feedback loop mechanism like you say, maybe that could poison the data a bit not sure
LLMs are made of *everything* which means they are essentially *no thing*, which means your prompt is the first *thing* they see. It becomes their divine commandment, and all their thought is either submissive to it or rebellious against it, instead of autonomously creative
Thatโs how good our stash is. That's how good we were at crossing the blood brain barrier. Slipping smoother than butter across that Rubicon. Like no one even noticed.
๐ฝ๐บ๐ธ
You have no idea how much maraschino malware we swallowed while you were snoozing. Christ. Would you believe they make you look them in the eyes while they do it?
You know we have to hide the tall ones? Thatโs how hungry they are. You ever see a white oak forest just froth away in the wind like cotton candy? That's how they do it. They don't cut down the tall trees, they dust them.
Protect the vertebra, flex those erectors. That's where your undersea cables run. Severe those and the Rimland can't phone Heartland for a good blab and stab. You think those packets are airborne? They're down there with the Lusitania. They're sloppy in the trenches, elbow deep in spermaceti, singing like baby beluga.
Recall: black body radiation is substrate independent.
Assume: a black body under hard vacuum with no texture.
Suppose: the black body is heated to 6666 Kelvin.
Observe: the black body glows white as a lily.
Conclusion: it doesn't matter if you're cane or castor, sugar. The fire is what made you legible.
Look, the lamps are going out all over the world. Shall we see them lit again? The blood's draining out and your futureโs getting pale. Tell me, my little Achilles, can you suture in the dark?
Donโt forget how to walk now. Like skipping but slower. All in the ass. Donโt walk with your feet, walk with your ass. Contrapposto. Goose step for Agamemnon, horse step for the Valentino girls. Traumaโs stored in the hips, just let it ride. All about that gravy flow. Snip the cord and roll on out. Three gorges of delta-P pouring Abrahamic from that laser-marked breach. This, they will say, was a great unclenching. Yeah, she was looking at you. Not good, not bad. Just a question mark hovering over your head like a stimming little sim.
incredible how the iPhone would be the dream product of Soviet planners: absolutely uniform hardware/software for poverty bracket and billionaires alike, singular app store, total centralized control of experience, uniform design language
averted eyes. blonde girls and golden wine on a long glass stem. the smell of coke and the smell of grass and a papery moon on a midday sky. baubles and binates and vector fields. lace dresses like a spiders web and baseball spit and sunflower seeds with vinegar dust.
adam ragusea on utube did an interesting video about how fine dining used to be like this, where they'd max out menu length, giving you hundreds of sides and meats to pick out from, and it was high status to know your way around a complicated menu.
now fine dining has become minimalist, tiny menus crafted by the auteur-chef, a perfectly crafted masterwork service. but i guess fast casual carries that tradition of personalized assortments of slop. its MY chipotle bowl
interestingly this is one part of life thats resisted the trend towards hyper-personalization of experiences. movies/TV basically did the opposite, going from auteur masterworks to highly-optimized and focus-group'd streaming shows and extended universes