It is time to declare Elon Musk’s Howard Hughes Speedrun complete? Or is there another level? I’m genuinely not sure. After all, he’s not sitting in a dark hotel room surrounded by jars of his own urine while typing with long, long, long fingernails – as far as we know – but this is some serious crazy and you are not ready for it.
Here’s an actual statement Elon Musk actually made on Monday:
“[The merger of xAI into SpaceX] marks not just the next chapter, but the next book in SpaceX and xAI’s mission: scaling to make a sentient sun to understand the Universe and extend the light of consciousness to the stars!” Musk said.
There aren’t words to describe how absolutely batshit insane this is. It’s a degree of psychosis and dissociation from reality that can’t – really shouldn’t – even be discussed rationally. It’s just… so long, rational thought! It’s the kind of thing I’d make up to describe how fucking impossible something was, so I don’t even know what I’d compare it to. Building a machine that makes it rain meatballs is more possible than this.
Why Tesla isn’t seeking zero in after-hours, I can’t tell you. Instead, it was up $3.41 at the end of aftermarket trading. Maybe by the time this goes up, repercussions will have hit. I don’t know. I can’t know, given that I’m writing this in the past of you, the reader, before Tuesday morning’s market opening. But…
Holy hell, team. I’m thinking it might be time to call it. It might be time to say Howard Hughes Speedrun complete.
Honest to shit the rate at which writing written as warning is turning into writing-as-instruction manual is really starting to fuck with my head right here:
I literally read this short story in… I think it was Asimov’s? Could’ve been Analog but I think it was Asimov’s. Circa 1992 or something. Don’t remember much of anything about it other than they were training an AI by shredding and destroying library after library and it was a huge deal.
That was it, though. That was the entire plot.
Kinda wish these fuckers would, idk, watch The Black Hole and ride a giant spaceship into an event horizon right about now, don’t you?
And of course it’s shit. Of course it’s shit. Holy gods, it is such hot garbage, and I’m not even talking about the implied higher situational awareness of someone wearing an AI PHONE ON THEIR FACE over people looking down at their regular phones
tho’ that’s a pretty fuckin’ hot take for them to have right there too, I have to say
I’m talking about the raw clownery of this image. Holy hell. Let’s zoom in at one of the insults to imagery:
And I’m not even mentioning the ghost in the room, by which I mean the four ghosts in this one particular rendered room:
And I have to ask:
HOW CAN ALL THIS STILL BE THIS SHITTY AND PASS MUSTER FOR THEM? HOW?
Christ it’s so insultingly bad. It’s infuriatingly bad. As photography substitute, as AI generated Not Art. It’s… it’s like it’s Anti-art, an opposite of art that mocks the real, that imitates while degrading both itself and its opposite.
Anybody can make bad art. I’ve made plenty. Also some good art.
But it takes real work to make anti-art.
And that’s what makes me want to fucking scream.
We all know how monstrously wealthy Fuckerberg is. How much money he and his company have. How he could jerk off with thousand dollar bills, wipe himself clean, and burn the dirties the rest of his wretched life and not even notice the difference.
So when you see that they’d rather put out this slapdash, revolting, uncaring – no sneeringinsult of a render than pay a photographer and a few models a few bucks for an afternoon photo shoot, what’s that say?
It’s not the money. He has all the money. All of it. Well, him, and the other TESCREAL fascists.
I think… I think I have to think… that it’s a matter of principle for them. A sick principle, but a principle nonetheless. It has to be, because otherwise it makes no. goddamn. sense.
I literally have to conclude that they hate art, and even more, hate artists. They have to, to consider this better. It must be principle for them to not care about artistic creative work, to not pay artistic workers. It has to be principle to hold all that in contempt, to say, “see? We just steal everything you’ve ever done, throw it into our churn machine, and then rub out our own version in half an hour to show you’re not any better than us. And you can’t do shit about it.”
They’ve made it clear that they’d not only spew this kind of rancid splatter, this metaphorical scrawl of shit, urine, blood, and theft across the walls of a city than break that principle.
And they’ll enjoy it.
I used to think, once upon a time, that Syndrome from The Incredibles was a little too on the nose,a little too pointed, maybe – dare I say it – a little too cartoonish for even a cartoon.
I’m starting to think maybe he wasn’t on the nose enough.
But that’s flippant, and maybe a little too easy.
What I really feel is that… I’m finally starting to understand – really understand, at a gut level – what Hayao Miyazaki meant when he called AI “art” an insult to life itself.
Because, well, almost anything can be art. Art is an observation and an intent, as much as anything else, and handing that mantle to something which has no awareness, no observation, no actual knowledge of meaning, no ability to opine, no personhood at all, a chum machine with less actual awareness than a housefly maggot…
…how could that be anything less than an insult to life, itself?
It took me a while to understand, Hayao. But I think I’ve finally got there.
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