From: M. Taylor Saotome-Westlake Date: Fri, 1 Jul 2022 16:35:11 +0000 (-0700) Subject: check in—first of July X-Git-Url: http://unremediatedgender.space/source?a=commitdiff_plain;h=fd121b128eb36bca2bb059aaada0dab38f4c4e57;hp=fd121b128eb36bca2bb059aaada0dab38f4c4e57;p=Ultimately_Untrue_Thought.git check in—first of July I actually have a five-day weekend—my usual cushy four, plus Independence Day. I spent yesterday being netsick, and in the morning I saw on Twitter Google has a new finetuned language model that broke 50% on a math-problem benchmark, which superforecasters had expected to happen in 2025. So much can happen three years ahead of schedule—and it's also equally possible to waste three years; there's no fundamental reason I couldn't have written my Whole Dumb Story in 2019 and moved on. Instead—you know, the other day at my dayjob, I got stuck in a Yudkowsky-hate loop again. Independence Day will be the aniversary of the time I talked to him at the Independence Day party last year, and had my heart broken. It—hasn't really been a very productive year? I still have lots of stuff to do and to write—it just hasn't been appealing on a moment-to-moment level, compared to Super Auto Pets? How do I escape this trap? I pulled my network cable out yesterday, but today I've just been lazy on my phone. If I could get three and a half solid days of writing in with the network cable out—just forget that there is a Twitter with scary ML announcements and shrink my world— Then today I re-watched half an original series episode, skim-re-read John Scalzi's _Redshirts_, and now my phone is off. I can turn my phone on again Sunday night to order food, if I get enough memoir-writing done tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday—just the memoir; I can't afford to dilute my attention with AI stuff or correspondence that I "should" be writing for dignity points ... I told you, I told the blog, that I have to Believe that my Story matters. ---