My Stories, My Insight, My Blog. All stories contained within are by other members or me.

Illusion or Deception, Artificial Intelligence

While sitting here typing on Google Search, I just realized the path that AI is taking. I was actually asking Google questions using the AI interface, and it gave me answers that made sense. And this is just the start of things with AI. It hasn't been that long since Google first introduced the AI search capability.

But there is a notice that says, "This is for informational purposes only. AI responses may include mistakes." And I wonder how long that notice will remain in place. How long will it be before the notice is removed and people start relying on Google and other media as the gospel on everything?

But it has already been proven that the media gets the story wrong, on purpose, a lot. So how long will it be before the media is disregarded entirely and AI replaces the "Fake News"? I can see it happening, and at the speed the internet travels it won't be long.

Imagine that, in the near future, there is a story in the media that is so controversial that people think, "Let's see what Google has to say about that." And when people go to search for it using AI, it is discovered that the story is actually fake news. People will stop listening to the news media and turn to AI for the truth.

Is AI this evil entity that wants to rule everything? I don't think so because we humans have to give AI the input it learns from. But look at Alexa. Doesn't it learn from the input it gets, and is that input from humans, or is it from something else? 

There are so many people, millions to be more specific, that have access to the internet, and those same millions of people input information. And this information can be accessed by Google (for one), where it is used to let AI learn. So AI is learning from the input we give it. And that input comes from an untold number of sources. Stuff like phones, speeches people make, websites, videos, etc. 

The compiling of this information is lightning fast, and here is where the supercomputers come into the picture. They give rapid answers to our questions, even the dumb stuff we all make up. You ask a question of any form of AI, especially search engines, and you get a really long answer in seconds. Well, that is if you have a fast internet connection.

A handout is a handout, is a handout! A hand-up is a renewal of the American spirit!

It's Cold Out There

DESTITUTE .. a person who is dead broke, without a cent.

VAGRANT .. a person without a settled home or regular work who wanders from place to place and lives by begging.

America ..... doesn't matter the time or place, whether 1 or 4 am - the night remains dark and cloudy with the wind blowing, keeping the ground wet and frigid. One sentence describes the life of a destitute person. But why relate the worst of the night's condition to being destitute?

Destitute, that's a curious word. What does it mean? Being dead broke - is the basic definition. I used to hear this. "If you don't improve, you could grow up without a penny to your name." If you are poor, aren't you too destitute?

Stop that man; he's a vagrant! If proven, you are a vagrant, you might go to jail. That was once true. Now the laws look the other way. If the police arrested every homeless person, the streets might appear deserted.

A homeless person suffers under two definitions: destitution and vagrancy. And definitions drive us. Throwing things out there without a legal definition might prevent law enforcement from describing what being both destitute and a vagrant is, thus confusing.

But, these days, confusion seems relevant. Not only do homeless people suffer shame, but a stigma points to them. They fall into a legal definition, and that's bad because law enforcement might act. Remember, we are a nation of definitions. We must define a crime before we can act. What sensible law enforcement or governmental agency will arrest anybody without due cause? The public simply would not stand idly by and let that happen.

Homelessness defines both destitution and vagrancy. Don't you see? If you can be homeless, many possibilities present themselves! Gosh, if the definition fits, wear it. Go ahead, get the benefits you deserve. Well, maybe 'deserve' is too greedy-sounding. We'll say 'don't deserve'. The fault is yours, being homeless. Isn't it? Although many people become homeless by choice, most fall into the role by force.

Today you have a well-paying job. But, in a month, you're laid off. Unemployment starts, but it's not enough to pay the bills. Over the next 6 months, you get further and further behind. In a year, you're homeless, living on the streets. If you're lucky, you live in your automobile. No job, unemployment ran out. You're both a statistic and a' - wait on it - definition. Ha, now you're official, and those governmental agencies are waiting with open arms. Your tax dollars at work.

“Don’t walk in front of me… I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me… I may not lead. Walk beside me… just be my friend”
― Albert Camus

My Remembrances

Life in Como, Mississippi

Have you ever eaten grits? Try it; you might like it. Everywhere I went in the Air Force, they served grits in the mess hall. It was grits, scrambled eggs, and biscuits. Now that's a breakfast to live on.

I remember my favorite Sunday meal then and now. Baked beans, potato salad, and meatloaf. Friday nights were hamburger nights, and through the week it was vegetables and chicken right out of our garden and chicken yard.

We had a rather large garden and an average-sized chicken yard (my oldest brother was the chicken executioner ). There were also grapes, figs, apples, and pecan trees. My mother and father grew up on farms and knew the value of being self-sufficient. My father had served in the Army during WWII and the Korean Conflict, so he knew just how to raise 4 boys and keep 'em busy. We worked in the garden and shelled peas, butter beans, and snap beans (green beans). Picked squash, tomatoes, grapes, figs, and other stuff.

Now I think back on my days as a boy and the fun times we had living in a small town where everybody knew each other. Sundays and Wednesday nights we were in church, weekdays were school or summer, and evenings were riding our bikes around town and fixing flat tires at the old service station on the back street. It was football at school and in the front yard, there was the little league in the lot beside the sawmill (I can smell the fresh-cut wood today), and the taste of a stolen watermelon or cantaloupe.

Life was different back then, and regardless of how hard an effort is being made these days to change things for the better, not much has changed. Regardless of how far away I go, I always return home to the South.