Sunday, May 31, 2026

Toledo was just another pit stop


I was so jealous of my friend JJ, who went to the Yes concert at Centennial our freshman year of HS.


Fun fact

According to White, Yes's 1977 show in Toledo was especially memorable to the band, mainly because of the temperature inside the Toledo Sports Arena: it was the hottest venue the band had performed in, reaching 126 °F (52 °C). As a result of the Toledo mention, "Our Song" received heavy airplay in Toledo following the release of 90125.

Yeah, certainly was popular with my crew.  The line, "Toledo's got to be the silver city in this good country," naturally made us feel a lot better than, "Saturday night in Toledo, Ohio, is like being nowhere at all" (released six months before we moved from central PA to northwestern OH, oddly enough).

Laughing on the Bus, Playing Games with the Faces

Long, too long America:

Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse really are?)

Walt Whitman.

I’m Sorry, Dave. I’m Afraid I Can’t Do That.

By 'that', I mean think, reason, or possess consciousness:

I'm with Gary Marcus (and the Pope).  We are not creating beings.  We have created fancy, non-deterministic calculators, nothing more.

Here, this is what a model is under the hood:

That's a small image classifier I trained in Amazon SageMaker Canvas (exported and saved to my Mac).  I can't show you the pre-trained LLMs from vendors like Anthropic or even AWS because they are proprietary black boxes (a problem unto itself), but they fundamentally are the same.  

They are not monoliths, but rather a collection of components: architecture code that defines the model's structure, and a massive array of floating-point numbers (weights and biases) that encode patterns learned during training.  That enables a model to generate predictions based on probabilities.  And that's it.

AI models as a whole, just like the model rockets I played with as a kid, are mere representations of reality1.  People mistake the map for the terrain because hypesters and rage baiters treat these things as mysterious, monolithic entities with magic powers that even their makers do not understand.  That's why I spend a good chunk of time in class and elsewhere trying to demystify these things.  Otherwise, how can we discuss the tools intelligently?

Models are passive functions, inert things waiting around for episodic requests to process with the same kinds of linear algebra we use in cryptography2.  They have no interiority, they don't cogitate on anything in between user inputs (what Br William and I call "The Gap"), they just sit there like your plain old computer waiting for you to instruct software to do something useful.  Without continuity, without engagement with the world, they are as thoughtful as a rock.

They are certainly powerful tools, but the power comes from their inherent clockwork nature.  AI models are not beings simply because we have modeled some of their functionality after our own.  One might as well claim we have created horses because we measure automobile engine output in horsepower, or created birds just because we've come up with mechanisms that enable us to fly.

In conclusion: Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen.


1 - Yes, my rockets were actual rockets.  But a model of a Saturn V is not, in fact, a Saturn V, and would not take me into orbit, let alone the moon, no matter how much I wished it were so.

2 - Some forms, at any rate.  To oversimplify, block ciphers like DES, 3DES, and AES, use matrices to add entropy to plaintext, and to extract patterns from encrypted text (provided one has the key).  Similarly, models are all about extracting patterns from inputs.  Nobody ever says encryption software is conscious because it isn't, just like AI software.

Saturday, May 30, 2026

In a bar in Toledo across from the depot


Eh, why not?


PS - Greyhound and Amtrak run out of the same station.  Been there a number of times, but not to any bar across from it.

Disquiet

It’s That Time:

The silence of night hours
is never really silent.
You hear the air,
even when it doesn’t stir.
It’s a memory of the day.
Nothing stirs. Memory lags.
No traffic hushing up
and down tricky hills
among the camphor trees.

No foghorns, no streetcars’
shrilling phantoms before
they emerge from tunnels.
These absences keep us alert.
No rain or street voices,
nobody calling to someone else,
Hannah, you walk the dog
tonight yet or what?

Only certain things to hear:
The sexy shifting of trees,
the refrigerator buzzing
while Cherubino sings
the best of love is enthusiasm’s
intense abandon, a voice
in song that preys on no one
and is unconscious of its joy.

W. S. Di Piero.

Friday, May 29, 2026

Searching for something to say


The lads played this at the show friends and I saw in Toledo way back in '86 (Chicago 18 tour).  The t-bone section's favorite to play at our HS basketball games, too.

Κύκλωπες

Cyclopean:

A mountainous and mystic brute
No rein can curb, no arrow shoot,
Upon whose doomed deformed back
I sweep the planets’ scorching track.

Old is the elf, and wise, men say,
His hair grows green as ours grows grey;
He mocks the stars with myriad hands,
High as that swinging forest stands.

But though in pigmy wanderings dull
I scour the deserts of his skull,
I never find the face, eyes, teeth,
Lowering or laughing underneath.

I met my foe in an empty dell,
His face in the sun was naked hell.
I thought, ‘One silent, bloody blow,
No priest would curse, no crowd would know.’

Then cowered: a daisy, half concealed,
Watched for the fame of that poor field;
And in that flower and suddenly
Earth opened its one eye on me.

G. K. Chesterton.

Our Rockets Always Blow Up

Yeah, they really iterated on the wrong stuff first from where I sit.  Anyway, let's switch to something happier and historical...

Astronaut Ellen Ochoa floats through the tunnel that connected the STS-96 crew to the International Space Station (ISS) for several days in late May and early June 1999. 


Real iterative development:

STS-96 marked the first Space Shuttle docking to the International Space Station (ISS), which was successfully accomplished on May 29, 1999 at 12:22 a.m. EDT.

Astronauts Jernigan and Barry conducted a 7-hour, 55-minute spacewalk to inspect and service the ISS exterior.

Funny thing, I was looking for pictures that showed Discovery docked with ISS, then it dawned on me that there weren't so many vehicles coming and going back then, so nobody was available to take a family portrait.

Selah. 

We Really Could Use Some Organic Intelligence

Yeah, no, it ain't a call for Butlerian Jihad:

People should actually read the encyclical, rather than merely reacting to what they think Leo wrote.

In conclusion: ahem, ah...he hasn't.

Thursday, May 28, 2026

Well, I heard about the fellow you've been dancing with all over the neighborhood


So why didn't you ask me, baby, or didn't you think I could?


PS - I really can't.

Space is the place.

Something Like We Did IV:

Wind in the leaves
of the live oak next door

and the June bugs
click-click

hard bodies
hitting the screen.


Couldn’t tell how much
time had passed.

Light from traffic
on the ceiling.

Late   that sound
in the sky   soft.


Thinking out loud
then inside my head:

they were still there—
the way they walked

that bright flicker
in their chests.


Sometimes I have believed

I don’t belong
here—   I mean

it’s not just
the American insanities

but everywhere: the sense
of having been left

on Earth
with no explanation—

a mouse dropped in a maze

Tim Seibles.