Date of publication: 2017-08-22 22:59
This story offers a caricature of the secular figure in Shuman, ‘the transhumanist who didn’t believe in God, but thought he might be creating it’. As an atheist, Shuman is horrified by the idea of religious morals infecting his precious AI, which he considered ‘his only offspring’:
One may accept this or not, take it or leave it for one does not even have to be Christian, let alone catholic and orthodox. One may be governed instead by one’s own vagrant notions, and needn’t be detained by the testimonia of twenty centuries or a billion souls, in the sight of all the heavens. Perhaps my reader is smarter.
Assuming he has the guts to run for re-election and I wouldn’t put anything past him Trump will be excoriated as a liberal and progressive, a communist and a capitalist running dog. Except, I am thinking my vice-presidential nominee should be a running dog. A ferocious one, who will double as my security. A fox-hunting Jack Russell perhaps, or one of those killer poodles trained by the French Foreign Legion.
Increase the pressure in my bow-arm. Bring the bow closer to the bridge to get a resonant sound. Pull the bow while keeping all my weight in my shoulder. Build up the slow pulsation to a swift vibrato. It is all of these motions and thoughts that lead to one beautiful.
Violent staccatos of the jackhammer coupled with rhythmic pounding of nails and muffled obscenities comprise the symphony of the construction site that has been my father&rsquo s accompaniment more than half of his life. While initially a position as a laborer seemed appealing to a junior in high sc.
I was in 9th grade the first time I stumbled upon a copy of What caught my eye was its trademark title: white type, red highlight, a connotation that stories of great consequence lay beneath. Such bold lettering gave me a moment&rsquo s pause, and I was prompted to leaf through its glossy pages.
I have a disease, an ambiguous disease that coerces me into festering in a ridiculous situation until it&rsquo s even more ludicrous resolution and compels me to exacerbate the event by my own capricious nature. With neither cure nor vaccination for this disease, it can develop at any age. Its sympt.
The effects that are possible by this method are, however, restricted to galvinism. Put the electrodes on, and the frog’s legs twitch, notwithstanding the frog is a corpse. But he can’t make tadpoles any more.
Alas, it is just what I was expecting, from Google of course, but also from all major Internet operators (from Facebook to GoDaddy). They take upon themselves the “Don’t be evil” responsibility to censor and smear all viewpoints that vary from their own passing notions. Combining intellectual mediocrity with unprecedented power, they will now “command the good.”