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alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.
we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)
please rb for larger sample size!
Question 1/3
What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?
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sometimes, people donβt understand that we are hated for being autistic.Β βBut I donβt hate autistic people!β.
Thatβs right! Because you donβt know how autistic people are.
You know, people never bullied me for being autistic. Because neither me nor they had the terminology. Nah, they punished me for being weird. And what made me weird to their eyes? I spoke weird and often stumbled, and I spoke like a grownup anyway, and I wouldnβt shut up about Ancient Greece. I moved weird too, because I was (am) really clumsy, and I didnβt have any friends. I was boring and didnβt catch jokes (made at my expense) and I didnβt look them in the eye, and so on and on.
If you asked any of the people who bullied me for years whether they hate autistic people, theyβd sayΒ βno!β. Because they donβt hate autistic people, but oh boy do they hate weird people. Perhaps they donβt hate autistic people, but surely they hated me for being obviously autistic.
this was submitted as a one sentence horror story, but it feels like it could be an old jewish joke, like the one about the two rabbis proving g-d doesn't exist or the saying 'people plan, g-d laughs'
Even more, it sounds like the beginning -- the set-up -- of the joke. Canβt you hear Carl Reiner opening a bit with this line, or Shalom Aleichem using it to kick off a story?
Well I'm not quite an old Jewish man just yet, but let me give it a shot...
Losing confidence in Himself, G-d became an atheist. He decided to go down to Earth, to walk among humans and see how they found meaning.
He wandered the world until he came to a town, where he happened upon a pastor. "Come to our church this Sunday!" said the pastor. But G-d shook his head. "I don't believe in G-d anymore," he told the pastor sullenly. "And besides, I really shouldn't be working weekends." . . .
He continued wandering, and as night fell, he realized he had no money for a hotel. Walking down the darkening sidewalk, he passed many shivering folk, some young and thin, others old and worn and grizzle-bearded, looking not unlike himself. Just as the rain began to fall, he happened upon a priest. The priest looked him up and down, and said, "You look cold, my son. We're hosting a men's shelter at the church tonight; you can sleep there, and come to Mass tomorrow." This time G-d agreed. He slept well and was warm, and in the morning sat for Mass. They blessed him in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but he felt beside himself and decided to leave.
By this time G-d was quite hungry. He stopped by a deli, but still had no money, so all he could do was watch the fresh steaming bagels be made. On a bench outside the deli, a man was eating a bagel with lox. As he finished eating, G-d noticed there were still some scraps of food on the waxpaper. Unable to help himself, he asked if he could have the scraps, before the man threw it away. "Please sir, I'm so hungry. I'd just like that crumb of bagel there, and that little shred of lox. I think I could make a bisl of fish last quite a while." The man shook his head. "I cannot in good conscience give you my trash," he said, "But come inside, I'll get you your own bagel. I'd offer to get you coffeeβbut that's trash too."
So the man bought G-d some breakfast and sat with him on the bench. "Thank you so much," said G-d. "How can I ever repay you?" But the man just shrugged and said, "I'm a rabbi. Buying bagels I don't get to eat is part of the job description."
G-d thanked the rabbi again, and ate in silence. "Rabbi, can I ask you a question? I feel I haven't been on this Earth too long, but already I've seen much misery. How do you do it? How do you still believe in G-d?"
The rabbi pondered this. "I believe in joyful things. I believe in kindness, and people choosing to help each other. And isn't that a kind of godliness?" (G-d suspected there was a bit more to godliness than that, but he let it slide.) The rabbi continued: "I've prayed to G-d every day for the last 30 years, and I will every day til I die. And if He answers my prayers, all the better! But tell me, my new friend, what's your name?" G-d hesitated and said, "It's a little hard to pronounce..." The rabbi chuckled and said, "No matter. Say, it won't be anything like Shabbos dinner, but my wife is baking a delightful fig pie today, and I'd like to have you over for dinner to enjoy it." G-d nodded. "I do like figs..."
That evening, G-d sat for dinner with the rabbi, the rabbi's wife, and their four children. The meal was delicious, the rabbi's family was incredibly welcoming. Their conversation was friendly but never prying, and the children laughed and played with each other. Several times, the youngest child tugged on G-d's sleeve for his attention before her father motioned for her to go play with her siblings. G-d began to see what the rabbi had meant about the joyfulness of life.
At the end of the night, G-d stood up to leave, and felt renewed. The rabbi said, "My friend, don't leave us so soon!" And G-d replied, "I will always be with you, for I am the Lord Your G-d." And they understood it to be true.
He had done this sort of thing a few times before and generally knew how it went. As expected, the rabbi and his family fell to their knees, weeping with joy and awe. He did not expect the youngest child to walk right up and tug G-d's sleeve again. He smiled graciously down at her, and she looked up with the wonderful bright eyes of a child who understands nothing but the urge to play. In a high voice, she said, "Knock knock!" G-d couldn't help but laugh. "Who's there?" He replied cheerfully.
Suddenly from across the room, the rabbi swore loudly and rudely. Dismayed, G-d asked, "What troubles you?" He saw the rabbi was trembling, half in rage and half in embarrassment. "I'm sorry Lord! Thank you for this, thank you so much for gracing us with your light, Baruch Atah and so on, it's just..." The rabbi swore again. "Thirty years of daily prayer, Lord, and a KNOCK-KNOCK JOKE is what you'll answer?"
hey captain-acab, this is the highest compliment i can bestow: it would not have surprised me had i found that story in a book of traditional fables in the shul library
Look, someone has to be the first to make up any traditional Jewish story, why not @captain-acab? If we all keep telling it, then in a generation or two it'll be traditional.
i re-watched it several times, looking for what he does differently. finally i spotted it. look at the line of motion in his strike. itβs not especially fast, he doesnβt wind up more than the others, and itβs not a matter of strength β the guy who knocked over the stand probably put more muscle into it. but thereβs a unity of movement he has that the others lack. his body and sword are all one curve. everything moves at once along the same line.
from a physics perspective, that means all the force heβs applying is concentrated at the point of contact between his swordβs edge and the target, and it moves at just the speed that breakage propogates through the material. too slow and it wouldnβt have enough force; too fast and heβd get ahead of the break, shoving the target over instead of cutting it.
from a writing perspective, that means that i should focus on describing a master swordsmanβs smoothness more than their strength or speed, and can also have witnesses be confused at the effectiveness of strikes that donβt actually seem all that fast.
Martial arts are all about physics, my karate sensei is has a mechanic/physics diploma and he loves to explain the biomechanics of human body and how this was turned into fight via martial arts. Itβs a very good way to teach. The sword master has a larger stance of the feet, much more than the others, allowing his barycenter to lower and thus giving more stability. This, united with the movement of the sword that follows the angle of his body increases the power of the blow without actually using too much muscle strength. Pretty sure heβs also just tending (not contracting) the muscles under the armpits, near the rib cage, the serratus anterior. That makes a huge difference.
i re-watched it several times, looking for what he does differently. finally i spotted it. look at the line of motion in his strike. itβs not especially fast, he doesnβt wind up more than the others, and itβs not a matter of strength β the guy who knocked over the stand probably put more muscle into it. but thereβs a unity of movement he has that the others lack. his body and sword are all one curve. everything moves at once along the same line.
from a physics perspective, that means all the force heβs applying is concentrated at the point of contact between his swordβs edge and the target, and it moves at just the speed that breakage propogates through the material. too slow and it wouldnβt have enough force; too fast and heβd get ahead of the break, shoving the target over instead of cutting it.
from a writing perspective, that means that i should focus on describing a master swordsmanβs smoothness more than their strength or speed, and can also have witnesses be confused at the effectiveness of strikes that donβt actually seem all that fast.
Martial arts are all about physics, my karate sensei is has a mechanic/physics diploma and he loves to explain the biomechanics of human body and how this was turned into fight via martial arts. Itβs a very good way to teach. The sword master has a larger stance of the feet, much more than the others, allowing his barycenter to lower and thus giving more stability. This, united with the movement of the sword that follows the angle of his body increases the power of the blow without actually using too much muscle strength. Pretty sure heβs also just tending (not contracting) the muscles under the armpits, near the rib cage, the serratus anterior. That makes a huge difference.
still thinking about the time my bf asked about favourite dinosaurs and my brother said quetzalcoatlus (pterosaur (not a dinosaur)) and my bf said dimetrodon ((synapsid (stem mammal) (went extinct 50 million years before dinosaurs evolved)) and i said crows (bird (dinosaur)) and yet i was judged to be the incorrect one in this scenario
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It's seriously fucked up that there's no way to speak frankly with a professional about suicidal thoughts without the looming threat of involuntary institutionalization and, by extension, psychiatric abuse. How, exactly, are suicidal people supposed to be aided in not feeling suicidal if they aren't allowed to safely express it through what are supposed to be the appropriate channels?
the intersecting needs of christian childrens cartoons to make all biblical figures both painfully average looking white people and as un-sexualized as possible creates a hellish world where all of humanity is descended from 2 Jon Arbuckles
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