What happens when the forces converge? When Man’s best (read: trusted) friend becomes none, but only the machine?
For instance, the computer that became personal again, or the telephone that carried voices across the oceans, or the tele(vision) that carried images into the mind and broadened the horizons of imagination (read: possibilities + facts + sureties + theories + logic + practices = outcomes – unnecessary emotions?!)
Surprises that leave no room for more nasty surprises! A state that brings about a level of zero-surprises and arms one to be relaxed and unguarded without having to place the burden of trust into wrong hands.
Nope, I ain’t calling for self-improvement of the machine at a state more than what it has already been improvised at (read: Project Singularity – for those of us who understand the perilous yet qualitative possibility of self-improving machines).
Imagine a possibility to promote quality, functions of day to day life without any effort whatsoever! Imagine a world without conflict, one without regret, one without fear, one without impressions of doubt and failed logic, one without any threat to human life!
Maybe this thought in itself is extremely dangerous and contradictory to the basic ingrains of human existence, but do we ever (always) forget that humanity itself is a sense of hard-wired programming embossed into life by the passage of time in a manner known to us as evolution?
It is beyond doubt that the universe is expanding by the min(y)ute minute (read: min(y)utely – for the sake of pronunciation)
While the concept of auto-correct is a wonderful thought, the possibility of turning back time should not be encouraged for this could as we all (very well) know spell a magnitude of untold disaster!
Somewhere along the line, we (?) have lost the ability to be ourselves and accord the (supposed) change to the patterns of weather, surroundings, conditions, possibilities, fears, greed, wants, needs and so on, but I tell you (just as another dumb and dumber fool), to stop for a moment and think with that little blobby concoction that some of us call ‘upstairs’ and be reasonable in our thoughts and actions and therefore ‘produce’ uncorrupted (read: pure to some degree) and qualitative outputs.
Welcome to the binary (hexadecimal?) functions of the machine which I once called Ongoing Stage ParaGRAY --*--
Does this make any sense at all? I guess the machines will answer, but please, let