To everyone it’s apparent that rivers are always ever changing, so Heraclitus (or Plato as some would have it,) stating that you ‘can’t step twice in the same river’ is not as philosophically pithy and profound a statement about the nature of our universe as it might initially seem. Instead, it’s one of those master of the obvious things like Cyndi Lauper proclaiming that “until it ends there is no end…” in “All Through the Night;” or Yogi Berra proclaiming that no matter where you go, well there you are, which was later borrowed by Buckaroo Bonzai and the Pig Farmer in “Beyond Thunderdome.”
I was on a metal table, with my rib cage cut open and spread by an ingenious tool resembling a Medieval torture device. People with long retracter rods held my flesh open as well, and I have those bruises to this day. However it was successful and here I am preparing to binge watch the Netflix Marvel series again in preparation for the upcoming Defenders 1st season.
This morning I walked the dogs at the lake, and since I walk briskly some looked at me as a challenge, and they worked hard to pass me by, but later were huffing and puffing beside the path as I went by them a half mile later. What I didn’t tell them is that if they have to work hard to pass a 62 year old quintuple bypass survivor with a pacemaker, then they should probably see a doctor. Life’s not a sprint, but rather a progressive steady journey, take it at a reasonable pace and you will do better. While I still struggle at times when I bend over and I’m getting cataracts, I’m otherwise healthy for my age.
Bending my midsection is rough at times – hopping in the car seat can put me out of breathe, at the verge of urination, and choked up all at once. It’s just like a solar plexus punch panic attack when the spiral wiring that ties my rib cage together stimulates my vagal nerve.
Growing old is not for wusses, and I tell my friends and anyone else who listens that in the race of life I intend to finish dead last.
From Asimov’s laws of robotics to the present people have wrestled with the ethics of decision-making processes for AI’s. This seems urgent in this age of drones and robotics, but the greatest urgency is in the world of social media and information distillation.
The AI engines that work in drones and robots decide singular events – and when they fail responses and repair will be quick. The questions by failures to keep humans in the loop, how are decisions made in combat, or in traffic will be all answered over time after events and failures occur.
However our information aggregation and distillation AI’s work behind the scenes in murky fashion, uncontrolled by user inputs and they affect humanity’s entire direction now. It’s a scary world when whole populations become herdable or affected at once, and we don’t even understand the who, the how, or the why of these engines. This is why ethical design review is a must going forward.
Here we are four days in to the four years of Trump’s administration and on each of those days both the President and his press secretary have told multiple lies all of which are easily verified as false. What makes it worse is that they are the sort of lies a conceited paranoid twit would tell to shore up his self worth. They aren’t even substantial or meaningful, they don’t advance any real purpose other than the standard outrage of the day mythic swill the extremists in the GOP live, eat, and breath everyday. Trump appears to have been born and braised in bile like this his whole lifelong, and he knows nothing better I guess. He thinks he is the Republican president, and not the American President.
Keep in mind that one of his lies was to people in the House and Senate, who definitely know he’s lying – which is kind of insulting to them when you come down to it. After all of this you can’t help but wonder how long it will be before he proposes a horse for senator.
If you are terminally cynical, aka suicidal, do not click the play button to this music video. Justin Currie wrote this after hearing the UK was entering yet another war, and it’s full of bitter cutting cynicism. If however you have the spine, the spiritual fortitude, and the plain old moxie to pull yourself out of despair, click play, wallow in it, then cry, have a beer, stand up, shake it off and Stand again.
Currie’s lyrics are masterfully written, they construct an accurate picture that portrays most of what is wrong in our times, and this poem will certainly last the ages. It’s especially fitting in these times. So listen but don’t let the bitter take you, don’t be that paranoid and hopeless one. Never surrender.