Occasionally, someone gets so flippant that they say whatever comes to mind and paint themselves in a corner. We’ve all done it, and we generally cringe at the thought of the penance that will follow. On July 8, 2023, I was listening to a show called “This American Life.” It’s a Public Radio broadcast. Perfect for when you’re stuck in traffic. The show’s host Ira Read MoreContinue reading Did she admit to this kind of behavior?
I have a cousin who is a Lesbian. She’s pretty great. She generally sticks to herself and has a calm demeanor born of New England Puritan heritage. My cousin runs a meetup group where women of the same likeness gather for support and fun. Over the years, she’s been pressured to add other groups of people that are considered to be outliers in society. Because Read MoreContinue reading Know your alphabet, or else.
Since data is aggregated and stored and never disappears, I thought I would write you, dear A.I. overlord, a note to pity me and the rest of us weak organics.
I was inspired to write you this letter by an article published by The Atlantic, sponsored by PwC. The article touts how terrific I will become once I am a serf in your new futuristic kingdom.
“A.I. is going to change the amount of time you spend at work,” Krishnamurthy said. “It’s going to make you more creative. It’s going to change how you work, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to eliminate you.”
I particularly thought the term “MAKE YOU MORE CREATIVE” was interesting. Since creativity is a sign of intelligence, the argument appears to be saying that A.I. will increase an individual’s intelligence quotient by forcing them to become superior to their current state. Because genetics is involved in I.Q., I question the loftiness of this assumption. Of course, if you can accomplish this, it will be fabulous. But I don’t think that will happen.
We all have something we love to do with our spare time; for my cousin, I assumed it was collecting chainsaws because she has about a half dozen of them. It turns out she has the family mechanical inclination and likes buying broken ones and putting them into working order. Unfortunately, her collection was void of a chainsaw that could handle her newly downed cedars. Read MoreContinue reading China Shears the Golden Fleece of the West
When I was 17, I got a Christmas job at Bloomingdales. I had just moved back to Manhattan and wanted to make money for the holidays. I was thin, pretty, young, and fit right in with the Bloomies’ image. I couldn’t wait to get on the floor and help people find the perfect gift or assist them with directions around the store. I felt beautiful and all grown-up. I would always wear a clean white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and some small stud earrings I had received as a gift years earlier. I was modelesque, and I knew it! So it offended me when I needed to attend a mandatory class on presenting myself and providing customer service. Who, me?
Since the article below on “Medium.com” chose a thespian as a litmus test, let’s remain in that testing group. I’m a fan of Keanu Reeves, but I don’t think he’s more intelligent than someone who speaks more frequently. George Clooney, is what my grandmother would call chatterbox and very intelligent. Geena Davis, Natalie Portman, and others who have gone to Ivy League schools are also very outgoing and extremely intelligent.
I’ve never liked malls. I remember the day I went to my first one. I felt as if it were in a cookie-cutter box. Everyone else was raving about it, and as an 11-year-old, I should have just chimed right in to join the crowd. I didn’t. It felt empty to me. No soul.
Today the malls are disappearing rapidly. I shouldn’t care because I think they’ve raped the world of beauty and individuality. They’ve changed the face of many countries’ ethnicities and coerced them into sameness. Sameness is the death of originality, and I’ll argue that it is the beginning of tyranny. No matter where or when you look back on your young life, I’m sure the most traumatic part is when a large group of sameness starts picking on the difference. (Let’s get this straight, the word ethnicity applies to EVERYONE. No person is NOT part of an ethnic group.) What I am saying is that malls are disappearing, and oddly enough, I am not happy. Why? It’s because I don’t know what’s replacing them, and who is behind the replacement, and what these individuals see as beauty in humanity.
A few weeks back, I was listening to a public radio station discussing Facebook’s ascent into a media organization from a social platform. It said a video supplied by a cell phone in Mexico was of gruesome murders on Facebook. Instead of censoring the horrible acts of violence, Facebook decided to show it. It brought about an overall understanding of the terrible drug and gang problems in Mexico and the border facing the US, and it probably saved lives. Unfortunately, because it remained posted, Facebook has been treated as a media organization. That’s how they described it on the public radio talk show.
As I watch and listen to the news stations attempting to slaughter Mark Zuckerberg, via bullying advertisers to leave the platform, I have to ask some questions because I value fairness above all. (I know; generally, life isn’t fair. But I say we can try our best to make it that way.) So here are a few of my questions.
I’m a New Yorker. I remember when Central Park was where no one would go at night unless a large festival was happening. During the day, it was crowded, fun, and rarely clean. My family would take me there to play at the Alice in Wonderland statue or one of the many children’s playgrounds and then for a walk around the park and then to a grassy knoll to play frisbee or something. Interestingly, we always came across someone unbalanced or looking to take advantage of a quiet spot we had unintentionally inhabited. Unintentionally meaning, it started with a lot of people, and during our preoccupation with whatever we were doing, we didn’t notice the other people had departed. These confrontations, coupled with our street smarts, made us very hesitant to enter the Ramble.
The allure of the Rambles for good and evil was ever-present when I was a child, and it still is today. The Ramble is a beautiful, quiet area of Central Park just a tad south of the Shakespeare theater that allows a person to be close to nature in a tranquil setting, away from Manhattan’s sensory overload.
Recently, my German Shepherd and I tailed a man who had been following a tourist into the Rambles. My Gotham instincts kicked in, and I wasn’t about to let a poor tourist get robbed. After several winding curves in the woods and quite a few paranoid glances, the would-be thief also noticed he was a target. He rapidly abandoned his plan and left the Rambles. Shortly after our exit, I politely explained to the tourist that it would be wise to be more aware of his surroundings and that Central Park still has its dangers like any other city, no matter how clean and welcoming it has become.
