(no subject)

Jan. 31st, 2026 05:22 pm
zka: (Default)
[personal profile] zka
Big news! I've wisely decided to not order a Pebble Round 2, because I'm an adult who makes sound financial decisions, and I refuse to waste my diminishing wealth on toys with low-contrast, desaturated screens. I'm publically sharing this to affirm my commitment, and make it real.

Instead, I choose to waste money on experiences! We finally scheduled a vacation, a real vacation, not the kind where you return more exhausted. We'll be in Brighton, UK for a week in February.

This morning we booked the trains, all the way from Amsterdam to Brighton Central. I was ready to scream because of course every website is terrible, and inconsistent, and nothing works. You must mAgicAlly kNOw how to interpret the bad UI and vagueries.

Quick example: our Thameslink tickets (London ⇔ Brighton) have different station codes in each direction on the London end ("THK" vs "STP"), hmm. Did their web tool divert us to the wrong station in London ??!!? Thankfully Reddit knew the answer: "THK" is an abbreviation for "Thameslink", you can freely board at a half-dozen stations in the central London area, including our connecting station (STP). FfFffffff

This morning stressed me out, to a level disporportionate to the actual threat or frustration we were experiencing. This is a clear sign that I'm still recovering from intense burnout. I hate technology, and all the bad UI and dynamic pricing scams, but mostly I hate that I'm still dealing with this, and probably will be shouldering this curse for a while. So far I've had 3 Psychosomatische Fysiotherapie sessions to treat burnout, it helps but progress is slow.

There's a old contractor joke, where your normal work cycle is starving for 3–6 months, then suddenly every client contacts you simultaneously. It finally happened to me! I'll be spending Monday responding to email requests and writing proposals, w00t.

I'm gathering my sewing projects in one digital place: https://gram.social/zka . The petrol blue coat is finished, it kinda sucks so there's no photos yet, more on this later...

We're running out of reasons to stay in the suburbs of Amsterdam, so we're preparing for a big move when our lease ends in June. There are 3 possibilities, and since I'm Big Daddy Laptop-Breadwinner, it depends on how my work unfolds:


  1. Remain in the Netherlands, but move somewhere more inviting to tattooed gay weirdos: Amsterdam / Rotterdam / Delft. Survive on contract work.

  2. Secure a full-time job in an English-speaking location, and move there. I'm applying for positions in the UK, and will soon expand my search to Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and some cities with large English-speaking populations (e.g. Berlin).

  3. Sell almost-everything, or put it in storage. Hop around the world using Digital Nomad visas, for a year or two. I can hustle to find remote contract work; or treat the experience as an extended sabbatical; search for a new home; or some mix of these.



Today == recovery day. No bike rides, no nothing! Just shoving pastries and vla in my face.

Did you know? In 1672, the leading ruler of the Dutch people was lynched by a mob, then the mob cut up his corpse and ate it. His name was Johan de Witt, don't read this article if you're squeamish, sorry.
garote: (machine)
[personal profile] garote
Nature was unable to evolve telepathy, or even silent, digital radio communication like the kind we use to coordinate swarms of drones, but it has managed to create impressive methods of coordination through the unremarkable mediums of sound and light, as well as direct touch and even smell. When we build devices that appear to manifest consciousness in these mediums, even something as simple as a vinyl record that re-creates a human voice when you apply a needle, we feel an unease, because the device has entered an uncanny valley and we suddenly feel like the answer to a question is very important: Is this a person? Or a rock? This could be something baked into us by evolution, as a fundamental part of the process we use to recognize other people and communicate with them. Its usefulness precedes us, too: Any mobile animal that doesn't lay unfertilized eggs needs to at least learn how to recognize its own kind, or it's gonna have a hell of a time reproducing.

Suppose you created a robot. Suppose it was in the shape of a human with a speaker grill where the mouth would go, and it contained an audio player that would play speech through the speaker, so that every couple of hours, this robot doll would appear to be contemplating its existence aloud to anyone nearby.

You would look at that robot and know that it was doing a poor job of imitating a human. You'd know there wasn't any actual contemplation happening -- no mental process. No being was present whose existence could be contemplated, whatever words came droning from the speaker.

Now, consider a doll with a computer inside, and a program running on the computer, using the latest generative language techniques, and trained so that when you converse with it, it appears to be speaking to you the way a Midwestern teenager would. Throwing in "like" and "um" according to a statistical pattern, and so on. Also, install a microphone and some voice recognition software, so the conversation goes both ways. Perhaps there's some suspicious delay because the computer isn't very fast, and maybe the conversation degenerates into nonsense if you give it nonsense for input - which is unlike most humans who would stop and say "what the hell are you babbling about?" - but it would still be an alarmingly good simulation. It would absolutely fool a child.

You still know exactly how it works, but if you placed it in front of some adult who didn’t, they would either assume they were having a two-way radio conversation with a slightly insolent human somewhere else, or they would be forced to assume that they were talking to a sentient robot. Mostly sentient. Easily confused, but obviously trying to think.

The only reason you are not fooled is, you personally witnessed the robot being constructed.

Let a child watch while you construct and program the robot, and they would probably still assume you had just created life. They might and even refuse to believe your claim that it’s artificial. What does that word even mean to a young person?

This leads to a more fundamental question: Why does it matter, whether the thing in front of you is life, or a simulation of it?

Young people must have some instinctive impulse to recognize the self in other things for society to function at all. If we left it up to external training alone, the chance of empathy arising and then taking permanent hold would be hilariously small. On top of this instinct to empathize, to see bodies and faces and recognize a range of emotions, we soon need to learn that some animate things are more human than others, and that humans are the most human of all. We learn that people have feelings, and all the way on the other side of the spectrum, things like rocks do not.

Relatively speaking, humans are really, really good at cooperation, and empathy is foundational to that. It compels humans to act altruistically, but without accidentally prioritizing the survival of, say, rocks. Young people practice empathy by keeping dolls and imaginary friends, and humans of all ages practice their empathy by keeping pets. But now we encounter modern devices that act so convincingly human we cannot tell the difference. Evolution never had to deal with this.

When we become surrounded by devices that handily stride across the uncanny valley - that realm of suspicion that kept us from giving humans the same consideration as rocks, even really interestingly shaped rocks, for millions of years - what are the consequences?

And what are the consequences, when these robots are impossible to distinguish from people, but they are still programmed and directed and acting on the behalf of other people -- people we don't know?

This is the futue we are in, right now.

Quackaroonie!

Apr. 9th, 2024 09:55 pm
garote: (ultima 6 rave)
[personal profile] garote
I woke up from some weird dreams about cross-country trips and bike touring. Typical, really!

Rachel led me out into the living room to show me her morning project: She'd assembled a bike grease shield for my right leg, using the cloth and straps I gave her, just the way I'd described. It looked very promising! I decided to ride out with it that day. Rachel was late for work on campus, so she took off as I was loading the bike.

I pedaled out west of the house to the river, through the park, then threaded north. Across the fancy bridge I picked the nearest coffee shop and got a mocha and a B.L.T.

As I was moving my bike closer to the table, a young woman walked over to me, pointed at the grease protector that I had peeled from my right leg and draped over the handlebars, and declared, “I just learned what that is the other day. It’s called a spat!”

Me, thinking: “Wow. I have a bunch of nephews that I take on adventures, and now I wear spats…”

Waaait a minute...

Thought for the day: Drafty

Jan. 28th, 2025 11:29 pm
garote: (victory)
[personal profile] garote
The rise of blockchain-based "coin" economies, and the buying into them by the lower-middle class, is a direct result of them feeling shut out of the standard avenues of commerce for their young working lives.

From their point of view, boomers and tech magnates own and control the economy, and have found so many ways to twist it in their favor that it's nearly impossible for a young person to get established.

So, why wouldn't these people embrace things like Bitcoin?

If they instinctively believe that all currencies are scams, even the so-called "regulated" ones, then walking into the Shitcoin Casino doesn't seem like a change to them. Except perhaps the newness and obscurity of it can give them some breathing space from the chokehold of previous generations. You don't have to gain enough power to exploit everyone around you, you just have to be sneaky and fast enough to exploit enough of your own peers.

This exact line of thought is also why "prediction markets" - i.e. legalized gambling over an infinite variety of increasingly niche claims - has caught on at the same time. Everything is a race to beat public perception, and scam or be scammed, because productivity and objective truth are both traps for suckers. (Also, fighting your job to unionize can be violent and precarious, whereas blowing half your wages on DraftKings might make you rich.)

Hooray; another ugly monster for the next generation to fight. I might be a little too old and cranky at this point to care.

Thought for the day: Inner wiring

Jan. 23rd, 2026 10:37 pm
garote: (programming)
[personal profile] garote
Imagine a person who was born without the ability to hear. Ask yourself “what does their interior monologue sound like?”

You can tax your imagination trying to answer this, but you can also do another thought exercise that might explain why the question is a trap:

Imagine a new species of animals that communicate with each other through wireless signals, broadcast directly from one mind to the next, without anything visible or audible occurring. To be clear, this is not like using a telephone. They're not sending the sound of spoken words on some other frequency. The information that passes between them has no real equivalent in audible sound at all. You could try recording it and then playing it back as audio but it would sound like garbled hash to your ears.

Imagine that the animals call this activity “wiring”, and they can understand each other quite well using it.

Now imagine that, like you, these animals have an inner monologue -- the equivalent of what happens in your mind when you think a bunch of words, to figure something out, without actually speaking. But it's not exactly the same thing, because their primary method of communication is "wiring". So appropriately enough, when they think about sending signals without actually doing it, they call it “inner wiring”.

Now ask them what their “inner wiring” would “wire” like if they couldn’t “wire”.

The question is crazy because you don't know what the noun is, what the adjective means, or what the verb is doing. So you have to throw all that away. What you're really asking is, "how do you communicate with yourself, if you can't use the units of expression and reasoning that you need to communicate with others?"

It's obvious that you can think without "inner wiring". You yourself are proof of this. Want to know what it would be like? You have an answer: It would be like you. And yet, you can still think quite complicated things without engaging a wireless transmitter ... or opening your mouth.

You're using something adjacent to - underneath - those sensory means of communicating. It would be there, even if those means were stripped away. But here's a fun riddle for you: What would thinking be like, if all those sensory tools were stripped away? I don't mean, "what if you were suddenly struck deaf," I mean, "what if you somehow learned to think without having any senses at all?"

Give us even the faintest, most tenuous sense - anything at all - and with time and willpower we can conjure the most amazing thoughts. But what if there was nothing? I rather suspect there would be no thought either.

And so we arrive at ... "Sum, ergo cogitare possum". René Descartes would be proud?? Hmm.

Thought for the day: Social problem

Jan. 26th, 2026 10:23 pm
garote: (maze)
[personal profile] garote
In about five years, our culture will discover a new social problem, where groups of (mostly terminally-online) people socially engage with each other and the outside world the same way they engage with the AI bots they use for their hobbies and careers.

Think of it less like a communication style and more like a mental disorder. It will go beyond simple speech patterns and tactics; these people will start to see other people as chatbots, and treat them in the same disposable, exploitable way.

This will be the thing that the current crop of new parents will panic about in their children.

I'm willing to bet it will mostly be a "young man" problem, because that group is historically a combination of:

1. Cynical about social interaction.
2. Not wise.
3. Hyperfocused on their work (because they need to survive and don't know how yet.)

Treating other people like chatbots will also have an ugly resemblance to a role young men are already vulnerable to, that women are all-too-familiar with: Being a pick-up artist. Say the right things to "game the system", and the reward is yours. Then hit "delete" and move on. Or, if it's not working, retreat back into your reassuringly pliant community of robots. Real people are "hard mode." Who wants that?

Oooeeeerrrr -- young people!!

Jan. 21st, 2025 10:03 pm
garote: (viking)
[personal profile] garote
Outside the cafe today I heard a bunch of kids in their early 20’s reminiscing about the "good old days" of being ten years old, talking about console games, bumper cars, candy bar fundraiser campaigns in school, and lemonade stands.

"Bruh, I made 120 dollars selling lemonade in one day. I sat outside with a guitar, bruh. In a chair."

"Nice bruh!"

"I was, like, learning how to play and I thought I was real good. So I’d make up songs about lemonade. And so many people walked by. One guy gave me a 20 dollar bill for a cup of lemonade, bruh."

"Haha! What!"

"I was like, what do I even do with this money? Can I take this? Bruh, he walked away without asking for change. I don’t even remember what I bought with it."

"My Dad’s friend is like, a gardener at Disneyland, bruh."

"You mean, a dream maker, or whatever they call them."

"Yeah bruh. He has a special card that’s green. All the normal people get cards when they go in, but his was green."

"Yeeeah!"

"He took us on the Toy Story ride when it wasn’t open for the public yet, bruh. It was so amazing, bruh, I was like, oh my god, I’m VIP at Disneyland.

"Ballin’ bruh."

"I was so ballin' bruh."

The speech patterns are so weird! I was packing up my bike so I heard a lot of it, and I wanted to make some kind of friendly comment, but I had no idea what to say. "Bruh, if I made 120 dollars at your age, I would have gone to Fry's Electronics and bought a hard drive."

(Long, confused, pause.) "Okay, sir."

It’s like ... a thousand hours of urban influencer prattle and braggadocio, flattened down and then used as a strainer, to create this very specific dialect, and so help me I know these people are smart - they’re Berkeley suburban kids, basically raised in luxury, with every resource at their disposal - yet I hear that dialect floating out of their mouths and I want to deduct five hundred points on the "reliable", "dependable", "interesting", and "experienced" scales, and start from the assumption that all they’re really good for is being crass consumers and working service-economy jobs, because they would slack off, and crap on, anything harder.

Yes, I am definitely too old, and I know it. What's amusing to me is, it's the dialect, not even the subject matter, that's messing with my head.

And also, yes: For a certain amount of time at that age, I slacked off, and crapped on, most of what adults claimed was worthwhile!
Page generated Feb. 7th, 2026 12:50 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios