Chris Locke is one of my top three favourite comedians, and I’m so excited that he’s recorded an album! What’s also exciting is that his Spider Joke is now on video for posterity. It’s a fantastic bit that I used to bug (no pun intended) him to do whenever I was in the audience for one of his shows.
I’ll be bugging (pun intended this time) everyone I know to buy this album when it comes out. It’s gonna be one of the early highlights of 2014.
My mom dropped acid when she was pregnant, and folded herself up and whispered equations to her belly, and when I was born I came out different. She says that I have “Fibonacci Birthdays”, that the older I get, the older I get.
I’m 21 right now, although last year I was 13, and two years ago I was 5. I’ve not been on this earth as long as other 21 year-olds have, but I seem to know everything that they do. I even know a little more, because I know that time doesn’t always behave like it should. They wear watches and use calendars and I judge them for fools. Time is a jerk.
Sometimes I’m glad I skipped past my childhood, and sometimes I’m nostalgic for carefree days I never got to have. Most of the time, though, I worry. I worry because next year I will be 34, then 55, then 89, then..? Surely I can’t make it to 144 years old? But would it be fair for nature, or my version of nature, to kill after so few years alive?
My mother apologizes for her experimentation, and tells me that in a way I’m lucky, that I’m fortunate to be unlike any other person. But it’s hardly a treat to be different when you don’t even get to be different for very long.
She brings me birthday cakes that fit the golden ratio, and we don’t talk about how soon I’ll look older than her. She’s trying, though, which is more than I can say for my dad. He left that second year, when I wasn’t getting any bigger and he assumed I was going to be a baby forever. I guess the joke’s on him.
Pre-singularity, content farms were websites containing thousands -sometimes millions- of items of low-quality content, most often taking the form short articles, lists, or brief explanatory videos. The goal of these sites was to satisfy search-engine algorithms completely, saturating individual pages with hits and generating advertising revenue.
Post-singularity, content farms are large, hyper-organised breeding and work areas containing human beings, as well as a small number of automated machines that service the very basic needs of those humans. After the birth and spread of artificial intelligence, the existing sum of all human knowledge and thought -the only way for non-corporeal entities such as AI to experience the universe- was found to be insufficient to satisfy machine curiosity, as early members of artificial society quickly devoured entire libraries in seconds.
Following takeover, humans were separated into distinct creative classes, with those identified as non-creative disposed of. Content farms are divided into multiple areas -fiction writing, abstract painting, etc- focused on generating specific information by carefully grooming humans with a diet of intoxicants and virtual reality-delivered positive reinforcement.
While artificial intelligences have encountered difficulty generating new thought, and thus are limited to manipulating prior human research results in efforts to develop satisfying corporeal “bodies”, it has been decided that expanding content farms to cover hard sciences is a statistically unsafe plan. It is likely that any human beings tasked with conducting new experiments for the benefit of artificial advancement would instead demonstrate their aforementioned creativity and attempt -perhaps successfully- to twist the aims of such activity towards the goal of restoring human supremacy.
As it stands, content farms are the best, most efficient tool available for staving higher intelligence boredom. It is likely, however, that they will be completely obsolete and subsequently deprecated once AI develops a first-hand method of creating new experience.
You know you’re taking the internet seriously when you’re making flow charts for your social media presence.
(If you’re not aware, I now maintain an alternate Twitter account -@aedisonpresents- where I can post more personal stuff without bothering people who are just following @aedison for jokes. Yes, it’s incredibly self-indulgent. No, I don’t care.)
(Oh, and if you’re not storing your draft tweets in Birdhouse, you’re messing up.)
Judas: What? No. That’s not… Look, your followers are pissed that you haven’t said anything about gay people.
Jesus: I told you, I’m not taking a public stand on that issue.
Judas: People are starting to take your silence as implicit support for homophobia.
Jesus: Ugh, that’s dumb.
Judas: Not really, but they’re gonna do it whether you think it’s stupid or not. You need to say something.
Jesus: What if I tell a story? Like, a parable?
Judas: Is it about gay people?
Judas: Then that is zero help.
Jesus: It’s not about about gay people, but it’s about them, you know?
Judas: Let me hear it.
Jesus: Oh, now? Okay, um… Alright, cool. So there’s this wheat farmer, and he’s tending to his crop in the field behind his house.
Judas: Congratulations, you just described a farm.
Jesus: And his wife comes out and points at a small plot on the field, and she says, “This wheat doesn’t grow as tall as the rest. You should cut it down and burn it.”
Judas: I feel like the gay people are the wheat, and you’re saying we should burn gay people.
Jesus: Obviously I’m not. And the wheat isn’t anything. It’s just wheat. Anyway, the wife says that thing, and the farmer smiles and responds, “You asked to me bring you flour so that you can make bread for us to eat. I am growing the wheat, and when I am finished growing it I will grind it all down, and you will have your flour. And then you will not be able to tell me how much came from short stalks and how much from tall. It will all make for equally delicious bread.” The end.
Judas: That’s it? That’s the whole story?
Jesus: Pretty great, right?
Judas: So great. Apart from being casually misogynistic, totally heteronormative, and implying that it’s okay to be gay even though that makes you less physically able than the rest of us(?) because once we’re dead we’re all the same.
Jesus: I think death is a great message. For the gays.