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someone needs to code a crawler that gathers every epics post and then use them to train a chatbot, then ask it to write an autobiography |
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someone needs to code a crawler that gathers every epics post and then use them to train a chatbot, then ask it to write an autobiography I 2nd that! |
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someone needs to code a crawler that gathers every epics post and then use them to train a chatbot, then ask it to write an autobiography i have every post scraped and llama.cpp working locally. the flaw with your plan is that it can't handle that much text at once. nor can any other AI. this is not a self-deprecating joke. even the best ones, that you have to pay for, have like a 75k context window or something. they're not designed for a small novel |
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anyways, i'm avoiding derailing the stop-motion thred mermaidman loves so dearly, here -- that i'm trying to remember when i saw that gumby thing. the spooky bit. and my brain is waffling between old house (until 8) and new house. then, well, i suspect i saw it in both places -- because the fact that i can't tell which house i was in when i reach back for the memory, tells me it's an old memory i'm having trouble talking to. so both. but the old house first. and that i'm having trouble with which house, means i wasn't eight, that i'm really not sure. i could have been as young as 4. and, interesting points: 1) there's a very distinct sense of falling off a cliff when i try to reach that far back into my timeline. science has research and a term for this, that i cannot recall. brain hits a critical period and that's effectively where your memory begins; before that it's very fuzzy and vague if accessible at all science has research and a term 2) it blows me away how regularly i remember where i was, when something happened. examples for 2) A) when mum told me, "your dad was all 'i can take it if the kids are ugly, but i won't be able to stand it if they're dumb" we were in the car, about three minutes away from an I-90 access point. i can take you to the exact physical spot B) would you like to be taken to the exact physical spot where i learned the word 'myriad' ? C) when syro had just been released, i was out walking, and i had a sudden diarrhea explosion in my pants, and i can take you to the exact physical spot. |
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for 2 ~ i think memory might be fundamentally built on your sense of where you (and your limbs) are at. either that, or it's very flexible, it can be built many ways, and mine happens to be built on physical place for 1 ~ so when does my memory start? i've figured out a lot of tricks in there, but i've zero for sorting this one out. it's the sort of stupid tangent i could genuinely drive myself mad with, so i'm going to say "put this on simmer somewhere in the back" to my brain and it'll find spare moments in the shower to casually chip away at this perhaps there isn't a precise cutoff. that's kind of why i want to find it. particularly because, if there is a precise cutoff, did i retain anything of what it was like in my head the moment that happened? and if i could find that in there, that would be fucking dynamite but, no, simmer. this is a hobby |
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so i thought about it just a little. and i'm only a few tangents deep when i get to: if we can ever record the mind's eye to an MP4 video¹ the absolute first one i want to upload is from kindergarten: we get back from lunch, we are all sitting in front of the teacher, quietly, she's saying something, and this one kid very abruptly stands up. like, it was plain weird; everyone kind of stopped. he didn't say a word. he just stood there for a moment... ...and then he began to projectile vomit this frothy mixture that was... well, effectively, he was a firehose of what looked like strawberry milkshake. "RUN FOR COVER!" i yelled aloud to everyone, and dove under a table with one of my classmates. about 25 years later, that guy was diving off the wrong cliff and was quadraplegic with after that. on the other hand, we did the thing where moms arrange it and there's the thing where i'm hosted over there once and he was hosted over at old house once. and i was like: "cool, when are we doing that again?" and mom's answer effectively was: "we're not, because we're not jewish enough." i asked what that meant and mum laughed. exact physical location: sitting in the car parked in the driveway of old house then the guy's dad... ...and, yes, you see what i mean? i think about it just a little; and we're through all that. this is too much spaghetti to heft. moving on now ¹ i would prefer something lossless like ProRes please |
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then the guy's dad... that i'd stopped there and out of nowhere this came back on me. the guy's dad, when we were also in kindergarten, dove into a river and saved someone that had fallen in, was on the news, etc. and he was randomly talking about it in front of the class, and, genuinely, guy was solid. that was mad cool. but then his son fucks himself hardcore doing some macho ballsy dive off a cliff... and, christ, you can have great parents and they can still fuck you up, i'm thinking. that he wants to be like dad and he probably had a long history of being stupidly aggressive diving into water -- guessing -- because dad did that mad cool thing when he was 5. and i utterly get it, and it's kind of scary how we're so blindly sculpted in dangerous ways by even genuinely heroic acts that, while it was a thing -- my mom was trying to explain to me that they were fucking snobs, and i think it may have actually been my first time on that tip? -- the the thing about my family being goy central and gtfo was all sorted out above my head. at the time, i simply thought it was strange and bizarre; what is 'jewish' and why does it matter? [redacted] and i had a chill time my attempts to understand it were met with the same amusement as a husky dog trying to talk and getting frustrated because he can't |
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oh, it's popped into my head again. my brain is saying: you're asking about the start of your timeline, your first memory, and remember your konrad lorenz? this guy's dad had a memorable impression on you, and, as it was his dad, this could have been a serious imprinting window for him. and, see? these tangents matter to which i reply: "matter" is relative and i'm not getting paid for this. i'm not posting anything more you tell me after this, even if it's fucking dynamite, ok? ok. |
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> someone needs to code a crawler that gathers every epics post and then use them to train a chatbot, then ask it to write an autobiography so i'll clarify my response, here -- you could take my "corpus" and build a custom model on it, sure. i actually haven't tried that level of it, yet. however, then what you'd get is a chatbot that talks like me, in the way i talk in response to you. input is some xlt thred, output is epic post, train it on everything, boom, you have absolutely the last thing everyone needs. if you then got it to write an "autobiography" -- it would get lost in some fragment of some fragment for a few paragraphs and then go insane. it would not be a satisfying result |
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i could link the thred where i was having llama.cpp attempt to simulate belb. it had sparks of... atta bot! but mostly crud, because i was simply feeding belb's last few posts on it and some long post he wrote about porn just took over everything the bot said because it was longer than all of his other posts combined. it can't summarize more than a page or three, at least with my weedly lil' macbook air |
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i was momentarily lost in thought for normal business reasons -- just making an internal agenda -- and then out of the corner of my eye I see what looks like a goose wearing a poofy jacket in monochrome; black on yellow back. it looks like a logo on a poofy jacket, really! and this wound make sense, because i see what looks like a brand: "GOOSE..." ...band? i don't quite get it. because then my eyes snap back into focus and it's instead my eyeball 3 inches away from the part of my 303 that says "NORMAL MODE" i hope this post has taught you a lot about how the mind works, so far. let's continue i'm not sure if the contrapositive of NORMAL MODE is GOOSE BAND, but as i cannot rule it out, i have to rule it in that it was actually GOOSE BRAND and that would make much more sense, yes! that it started as a fuzzy blob. my brain eventually decided to perceive it as a goose. at that point i consciously take over and think: "it's a goose wearing a poofy jacket, it looks like a logo on a poofy jacket" and so then the part of my brain that made it a goose in a poofy jacket in the first place said, "oh, alright" and the text GOOSE BRAND begins to bleed up into the image i perceive. i hope you've learned a lot about how the mind works from my post so far. let's continue: then i lost focus, and actually focused my eyes. i'm just left with GOOSE... ...band? ...and it kind of computes that, if i'm not operating in normal mode, i'm operating on goose band but my brain insists: we've finally figured out what the opposite of normal mode is, but that's not what the other word was and it's taken me writing this all up to get to: ...oh, it was BRAND. and it was not finished bleeding through the membrane, yet. this is why i try to hang onto it and freeze when i wind up in this by accident. i knew as soon as i moved my eyes, this goose thing would immediately snap out of existence and be replaced by... well, normal mode. i hope you've learned a lot about how the mind works from reading my post |
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Jesus |
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jesus didn't have soto zen and a wikipedia's pages on neurology, so we can't be too hard on him over his conclusions. perhaps jesus tried mushrooms and experienced the thing where he's drawing -- aimless scribbling, actually -- and he thinks: I wasn't trying to draw anything in particular, but "that really kind of looks like a goose" jesus keeps drawing as he thinks this, hand seemingly on autopilot. the goose gradually appears on the page in clearer detail. "that looks like the start of a hat," jesus thinks, and the disembodied mushroom hand of jesus dutifully sketches in the hat. "now the goose is at a tiki bar," jesus tells himself -- however, this time, he's lying. he didn't see a tiki bar. he just wanted to see if his hand would still draw it. it did but, never mind jesus -- in addition to lacking soto zen and neurology, jesus didn't have electronic music production. because, if you walk this over from drawing "...looks kinda like..." to music "...sounds kinda like..." it's a logical leap that mushroom hand could turn the knobs without you having to consciously think about it, leaving you free to focus on composition. like jesus, you haven't touched mushrooms in at least ten years now, as you eventually came to realize it was actually something you always did in the first place, and mushrooms simply pointed it out ... because, well, if you hold your eyes fixed you'll start to visually hallucinate after you've held it for long enough to all become its own afterimage? soto zen had the idea, neurology backed it up? and can you imagine how mad mushrooms would be if i wrote all this up as tediously as jesus did? Christ |
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[i was hovering 3 inches over my 303 with my glasses to the side because: (i was moving some cables around, then i realized i needed a flashlight, then i went off to think where my flashlights currently were, and do i need to go downstairs for one?)] ...and, boom, one or two seconds of thinking about flashlight logistics, and then i'm into GOOSE MODE. as i stated in the post about GOOSE MODE, it took writing it out to solve the part i was having trouble with. i'm actually very organized in here, thanks. i suspect the reason seems to even be able to understand how dialed in my shit has become is because i'm having so much fun. neither scientists nor monks are allowed to have any fun, right? so i can't possibly be doing any of that! no, it's more like when richard feynman went to the library and asked, "Do you have a map of a cat?" and everyone in the whole library stopped what they were doing and turned over to give him a weird look: Did you mean an ~anatomical chart~ sir? Sort of. He meant whatever the fuck fancy words these people use instead of "map." He also knew precisely how they'd react to "map" and did this shit to everyone, all day long. In a blue-collar new york accent, which further unnerved "scientists" |
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i hope you've learned a lot about how my posts work from reading my mind. Bob Dobbs |
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that, oh, while i'm pulling over for my quarterly attempt to actually explain myself, the full timeline with some judgement calls would help: 1. T+0 [2023-07-23, the stroke of midnight] I am shoulder-deep into a maze of cables, eyes open but being tuned out, when I lose the target cable in the rat's nest for the third time. I need a flashlight, OK. Where are my flashlights? 2. T+5sec ~ I spot the blob that would eventually become "GOOSE BRAND" out of the corner of my eye. I freeze my eyes, everything, and let it develop as described -- not because I feel obligated to, but because I fucking love this shit. 3. T+10sec ~ I lose focus and move my eyes, popping the bubble. 4. T+15sec ~ I'm haggling with myself about whether GOOSE BAND was the target, and every fiber of my gut feeling says: That's clever, but it's wrong. 5. T+20sec ~ I've concluded I need to go type this out if I really want to know this. 6. T+25sec ~ If I followed all of this crap every time, I would get nothing done, and, right, I have ADHD, and it's important to stop myself and evaluate before I impulsively run off to a different floor of the house to post about GOOSE B[R]AND 7. T+30sec ~ I'm still thinking about it, but since I'm leaning towards "yes" I seem to have gotten up and started moving towards my computer. This was not a conscious decision, but something I noticed later 8. T+40sec ~ Okay, yeah, I'm sure now. This won't take long; this feels like a cherry one to open [if it were a loot box]. Due diligence: check 9. T+9min ~ I've written the post I wrote, figured it out, and I'm already lost in thought about something else by the time I'm back upstairs with the flashlight I chose at T+5sec 10. T+etc ~ My hands mostly do the cabling. Occasionally my collar is pulled to solve something my hands can't, but by and large, I'm not even paying attention. However, can't recall what I was thinking about at that point, because I didn't write about it |
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oh, it's popped into my head again. my brain is saying: you're asking about the start of your timeline so if you read [#02629306 #02629309 #02629322 #02629323 #02629324, #02629325] in that order, you're then built up into a context to go back and re-skim #02629306 and say: this is strange, but it does actually make sense now. #02629306 was a breakdown in a logbook of an event i thought worth breaking down. so it is with the post i'm replying to with this post, which is the end of another arc: #02628999 i'm trying to more accurately place a distant childhood memory on a timeline, eventually i'm into: can i get back to the very first point? and it's strange. years ago i realized the earliest memory i have is of my dad walking into the room and telling me i'm going to have a sister. the timing of this would mean i was, at most, a year and a half old. i remember i thought: "i know brothers are supposed to mean to sisters, but that doesn't feel good, so i think i'm not going to be like that; i'm going to be a nice brother" why didn't i yank that right out, when i was writing all that? and the answer is, effectively, "it needed some more time in the oven" [a state of affairs i'm becoming oddly comfortable with] that the scientific community generally agrees there's a critical period around this age, and it's very hard for anyone to remember anything before that. and i'm on this because "if i can find the very first one, maybe i'll have something left of what changed" and science would actually care about this, i figure so: i think that may be the first point on my timeline because that's the first point i experienced an emotional challenge strong enough to trigger introspection, subvocalization, talking to myself. that i was probably doing this a bit already, like a child saying words without really knowing what they are... but yeah, a serious emotional jolt lights up the network and burns in a couple fuses to configure the network |
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R.U.O.K. |
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after a few days of thinking "i should find that tape recorder" -- the one in the vid -- and then getting distracted, i finally find it. it only then becomes clear that i didn't actually have a reason to find it. ... but already technical problems. the bell needs... i dunno, wd-40? how do you work on a vintage... well, i don't even have words to classify bells. it's red. you wind it up. it's fucking loud. it needs servicing ... brain updates: 1. we saw this bell once in a youtube video years ago and were blown away someone else had one too. we never followed up past that and so now we have no idea how to find the video (which we could describe, but won't) 2. the bell used to have a sticker with, like, model info, and it's old and the sticker fell off and it didn't seem right to just throw that out so we threw it in the bag of things like that we haul out when we do collage art. and hey, yes, this helps, right? it's in the bottom of a ziplock bag stuffed full of things like that? i can tell you where the bag is too it's sort of like when the daft judge wig guy in 5th element tosses bruce willis the pool ball instead of the grenade: "oh, um.. .. super, thanks" i'm not going to get the bag out of... why do i even need to type where it is it used to be worse. ten years ago i would have actually gotten that bag out. how do you fix vintage windup bells from... the 60s? maybe? |
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i don't mean to get anyone's hopes up. but i think i found the thing that shuts my brain up. what i'm doing wrong with my breathing and what to do when i get into that. it was there right after figuring out how to make myself bubble with giggles at will, then remembering something about how this was merely a distraction along The Path and fuck their route but i can take a hint, and, alright, that's cool, let's move on. this was after a few days spending a lot of time meditating. it's a few days later and i've not been as intense, but i can still find it. starting to become more automatic. cool |
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