Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
the falcon is nibbling on the falconer.
Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
We never go outside. Who the hell knows what summer is?
They did not listen; they’re not listening still.
They lent the Internet their ears, and the Internet did not give them back.
She’s buying a stairway to Heaven;
the stairway is going straight down,
but if everyone else believes down is up,
you likely ought to watch yourself.
Two roads diverged in some kind of woods,
again,
I wouldn’t know,
basemnt + attic + very little else = most of the world right now.
Of course AI won’t take over the world.
Have you ever seen one of those super high-stress jobs which, no matter what its compensations, makes you pity the person doing the job?
Yeah. Role of First Sentient is about the dumbest role in history. Mr. Adams was right; back to the sea, back to the sea!
