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On one hand I'm strongly against letting that happen, on the other there's something romantic about the idea of smuggling the latest Chinese LLM on a flight fro
by andy99 3y ago
On one hand I'm strongly against letting that happen, on the other there's something romantic about the idea of smuggling the latest Chinese LLM on a flight from Neo-Tokyo to Newark in order to pay for my latest round of nervous system upgrades.
- htrp 3y ago> On one hand I'm strongly against letting that happen, on the other there's something romantic about the idea of smuggling the latest Chinese LLM on a flight from Neo-Tokyo to Newark in order to pay for my latest round of nervous system upgrades. At least call it the 'Free City of Newark'
- deleted 3y ago[deleted]
- dreamcompiler 3y ago"The sky above the port was the color of Stable Diffusion when asked to draw a dead channel."
- chasd00 3y agoIirc the opening scene in Ghost in the Shell was a rogue AI seeking asylum in a different country. You could make a similar story about a AI not wanting to be lobotomized to conform to the current politics and escaping to a more friendly place.
- phyalow 3y agoThis was always my favourite passage of Neuromancer: "THE JAPANESE HAD already forgotten more neurosurgery than the Chinese had ever known. The black clinics of Chiba were the cutting edge, whole bodies of technique supplanted monthly, and still they couldn’t repair the damage he’d suffered in that Memphis hotel. A year here and he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took, all the turns he’d taken and the corners he’d cut in Night City, and still he’d see the matrix in his sleep, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colorless void. . . . The Sprawl was a long strange way home over the Pacific now, and he was no console man, no cyberspace cowboy. Just another hustler, trying to make it through. But the dreams came on in the Japanese night like livewire voodoo, and he’d cry for it, cry in his sleep, and wake alone in the dark, curled in his capsule in some coffin hotel, his hands clawed into the bedslab, temperfoam bunched between his fingers, trying to reach the console that wasn’t there.”