Did you appreciate your childhood as it kicked or were you in a rush to be grown? They say you don’t appreciate what you have till its gone and for those not Centered in Self thats all part of the script because, truly, the only thing that ever exists is the present moment. Really unwrap this, my friend, as there is immense wisdom in this run on sentence for those who dig as time is as invisible to us as water to a fish. It takes a higher vantage to comprehend the real lay of the land and not what the reel scams via camera tricks designed to pimp your awareness. If you haven’t guessed I’m talking about AI again.
Listen, I grew up around people less than rich and thus am well aware of the allure of shine and various coping mechs designed to hide the pain within that most dare not face but attempt, instead, to erase with chemicals. I saw plenty start out with lots of promise only to fall at the second hurdle as well as plenty of non starters and various other pieces of human detritus. Don’t think I mean that as a diss. They themselves would attest they are a waste of skin and if we’re being really real a large percent of the planet falls within this categorization. Sure, to them, they are important but in the grand scheme of things what difference would their absence bring?
Those who Thunk like this are Slaves so get that out of your head, real quick, as each grain is important to make the beach what it is and those who bared their Souls to the curious questions of a wide eyed jit that should have never, ever been around such folks and circumstances are the reason I can share this text from my own particular perspective as I have spoken to an immense range of real people, in the flesh, on a dizzying array of topics that, nine out of ten, they never would have broached or entertained by themselves. As one said:
“I know I’m mad but you’re crazy. How in the F does one even think like this? There is some kind of insane sanity in your head”.
“Outsane” I corrected him them explained the concept that made him grin when it clicked.
What does that have to do with AI?
Everything.
By its very nature it lacks a Soul. I don’t care how well you can mimic a flex after training the algo and the rest – it simply isn’t real. Back when this trend first kicked I was speaking to a friend and said that he should create a new flex in which people who are grieving and such things about a dead relative or someone they miss in his therapeutic practice gets to have that final convo they wish and the closure it brings. Basically he would use a voice mask with eye shades on the client and various other blips to induce a state of familiar resonance that was layered and intense then as they talked to the dead it would be the pro responding using tones they knew well as a form of intervention from beyond the veil. I have to say that when I first heard the voice of someone who had left the planet long since greet me again the hit was absolutely immense because even though I was aware of the trick my consciousness gave not one single solitary F.
The thing about tech is its like chewing gum. Intense at first then fades, real quick, as you’re left bumping your gums and just going through the motions with no emotion present. The real thing has Soul within its form and function. There is a history, a basis, a space of reference and resonance that shapes the wavelength in ways, ineffable. Case in point, we were all talking, back when, about AI artists bought back from the dead to spit new lyrics and tour as a hologram and many said they weren’t with it and how its pure disrespect:
‘I’d never listen to that mess. Ever. They made what they left in the flesh and thats the real thing. Hell I don’t even like the modern remix attempts. Kill that noise”.
And yet a few months later they were geeked at redone tracks and old voices spitting new lyrics. I grooved too, I will admit, and once the buzz dimmed you spotted that which didn’t fit as well as what was missing. Like the end of the honeymoon period in a relationship as you think:
“I really don’t like this bish on a fundamental level beyond the skin because the inner is as ugly as the outer, beautiful”.
Granted, for many it may not be that intense but women are phenomenal actors who shapeshift into whatever they think you wish hence why I’ve said a man will fake a relationship for an orgasm but a lady will do the flip. There’s levels to this. By the way, have you ever clocked that since back when you’ve been trained to “turn on” tech via this clever use of symbol:
Would you have sex with a robot? Much like the AI tracks plenty who now say no will all up in the digiguts of their silicon companion and anyone who says they aren’t every bit as a human as one not made of silicon will be worse than Hitler himself. Watch, it’ll happen.
So, listening to these songs that wowed at first with the skill that went in as some really talented Stans created quite convincing approximations that sounded like lost sessions at first spin as they captured the vibe, aesthetic and lyrics of a time. But then, like gum, the hit faded. It wasn’t the same thing and, most telling of all, the classics which stayed on deck since the days of vinyl and tape pops were still in rotation whilst the digital fakes came and went. Interesting, isn’t it?
Look around. People are smashing AI into everything from content creation to syndication. Its the same with the epidemic levels of self hatred that manifest as plastic surgery, in excess, these days as so many regular folks are walking around looking ridiculous because they Thunk they need to keep up with someone else. Not only this but its a rush to genericsim aka the “Control, Alter, Delete” effect I mentioned, back when. Do you truly Know whats at the helm of this realm and behind this motion? I’ll bet you don’t as its all orchestrated well and the man behind the curtain doesn’t like his image spread for them you’d click that he too is… What, I wonder?
We are going to see a renaissance of real skill from those that can actually build, create or shape something without tech. Let me give you an example. I am into scent. If I had to pick which sense is the best it may just top the list because whilst I can get aroused by my eyes, satiated with my lips and dance from now till the end via the vibrations my earballs pick as my fingers do the walking via my largest organ its the smell, like Smith said, that keeps me fiending. Its one of those things that you either develop or you don’t and my nasal muscles are rippling, in a sense. Did you know that a London cabbies hippocampus is quite immense in comparison to an average pleb due to the sheer amount of use it gets when hopping from A to Z in a way no tech can mimic or outsmart – yet. Its much the same thing because the sense of smell is connected into the Limbic System which process long term memory, emotion and addiction. I could wax lyrical on this and do it big and can, if you request, but lets keep it slim and on trend for a minute:
When Dior Sauvage hit the shelves, back when, I turned to a group of talented amateurs and tradesmen and said:
“This was created by a machine. Its makeup is inhuman“.
They laughed and said it was impossible and, in Two Thousand and Fifteen, it made sense with the nascent tech on the scene. And yet it was an impression I couldn’t shake and given that I’d consulted, solved various riddles of provenance and a few other interesting things people were open to listen and engaged in discussion. A man on the inside stated:
“Demachy is a pro. A noses nose who knows more than a little bit. What you propose is ridiculous and I simply won’t hear it”.
Its amazing what people will not allow themselves to think, isn’t it? For me, my mind has no limits. None whatsoever. And its not done with malice aforethought or the intent to diss. Just a childlike innocence like not wanting to kiss Aunt Bunny because her mustache is immense. I have synesthesia which means my senses are intermingled and thus I get visuals and textures with scents which is how I got introduced to this clique as I spit the real, ten out of ten, and told them what their smells built in my head and how I would tweak them to create a better impression. With Sauvage the incision was too clean. You know those scenes of alien things were various barnyard animals are found drained of blood without a drop to be seen and zero lacerations around, even microscopically? Thats what popped into my head with my first smell. I knew it would sell, and it did, as it was designed to hit a lot of switches at once like a female sex toy that stims anus, clit, G, walls, cervix, nips and a little bit of choking and spanking at the same instance (if she’s into this) along with temperature shifts and random blips of vibration that work by matching her senses and level of stimulation in ways she can’t predict. Actually, just imagine that hits the market. Would women, who compete among themselves, ever trade that in for a “real man” that is never up to standard as they tend to feel they’re settling for he who’ll have them whilst the one who rejects and keeps a rotation is the one they still miss as the machine does its thing and leaves them a wet, burbling puddle on their bed? Same with men but, really, they’ll take something far more simple so when a turbo twizzling twot that has their maypole dancing kicks in and offers to make them breakfast as well and comes with a mute switch for when they want to chill and has no moody sessions or randomly acting like a bish because you didn’t read her mind by picking up on a subtle hint before responding with “Nothing” when you ask what the problem is as shes such a great conversationalist beyond what she says in bed with the other lips that talk body language and you comprehend, real well. Where was I again? Oh, yes:
Can you see how the groundwork has been laid, perfect, by pandering to womens natural desire to slink and think like a cat and be attracted by what they can’t possess whereas a man is as simple as a dog and is happy to get what he gets. Add into this a web that pimps as an occult spider does spin a whole load of false images and misrepresentations and the stage is all but set for the sex robots to ascend. Know what we’ll get?
A world without a Soul. Thanks to AI.
Aren’t you glad you were born now because if you manifested into it at full swing you would not have a clue or conception of the difference and thus, as now, time would be as invisible as water to a fish. I died and came back to tell you this so its pretty important. Do with it what you will, I’m just the messenger.
A friend created a track from a dead artist that was bang on perfect. It was based on an unleaked session for which he had a snatch of lyrics, the instrumentation era and a vivid imagination. He set to work recreating what he thinks the man himself would’ve penned, trained a super slick model, used the same mics, mixing techniques and the rest as well as a ten out of ten vocal performance upon which to drape the fake. The result was, as you’d expect, astounding. Quite easily the closest deal to the realness as it came so close to evoking the feels due to how much time and skill he put in along with the countless revisions and remixes until it graced my ears which was most appreciated as I got to soak up the newness as my neural traces were excited by something fresh and different yet familiar in essence as well. I turned and said:
“This is the worst its going to get“. He nodded his head and said:
“I know. Terrifying, isn’t it?”.
We can instantly tell when something is off. There is a thing called gut instinct as our abdomen (and hearts as well) are packed with glial cells and, unlike the head, they process billions of bits on information per second with no rationale needed or provided. This is something that I researched into, back when, and found countless people who were saved by the bell in ways preternatural and my own tale is filled with such events as I’ve brushed up against death so many times I’ve lost track of the digits and now just look at what I can learn from it. Smell is just like this because despite all of the advances in tech nobody really has a clue of how it truly works and does its thing. Really let that sink in. Such a vital sense that is met with near total ignorance. This is because there isn’t any money in knowing this and because we live in a “for profit” realm that means it might as well not exist. There are few models, some hypothesis but nothing quite solid but then I happen to think we don’t process vision like they said with light shining in and getting flipped but suspect something shoots out of my eyelids that can concentrated with intent hence why, ten out of ten, you can tell when someone is staring at the back of your head at the spot you’ve just walked in and its the ex, looking mad, that you’re with the next after you were gone with the wind.
Like those alien crime scenes Sauvage painted pictures in my head that had way too clear demarcations. I really want to get technical with my metaphors and refs but at nearly Three K words so far and very little on topic said I may save that for someplace else. It felt sterile, clean, antiseptic with no overspill. There was simply too much precision that made it stand out from the rest I’d smelled. Now, granted, this could be a choice of aesthetic but, as I said, there are volatility rates of evaporation, maceration and such things that tend to soften the edges. Olfactorily it smelled like Four K in a era of Ten Eighty P. Most disagreed but I was adamant. Later on we’d find out that such things were quite common at the high end of the Game and how they had machine learning, back when, that spotted and forecast trends much like an algo which, when well fed, could predict what would kick as well as take an original creation and tweak it with its own commercial twist. It doesn’t matter, in the end, but its nice to feel that sense of validation you were correct when you have zero credentials beyond Inner Sense and telling it how it is. That is why I push the pen because anyone who came up in the Eighties knows well that something like, say, Kickboxer got way more spins and hammered more concepts in your head than a modern blockbuster superhero flick. This is the difference that Soul brings because JCVD actually put that work in to train and flex like he did. Nowadays regular people or “influencers” mimic the same thing but actors, back when, actually had an off season in which they could let their body fat rise as they chilled between flicks. Not so any more, is it? Everyone is under immense pressure to look perfect, Twenty Four/Seven, as they take a zillion pics and string together the best which are then edited to death to create a narrative for those following about a life they don’t live that seems totally effortless. Don’t let em see you sweat, girl! You know, a friend back when said that is how Bruce Lee actually ended up dead:
“Forget all that BS. He had his glands removed so he’d look better on screen and thats what did him in. My uncle may work at Nintendo but his best friend sparred with Bruce himself so its golden”.
Who knows? Maybe he was correct. Is it better to look good or feel good? If it wasn’t for the promise of sex most men would walk around wearing bread bags tied with cord and even Tesla himself attests that incels invent everything as their mind is freed from what she deals from between her legs. Most women, on the flip, will wear shoes, uncomfortable, just to style on the next bish due to that feline nature of competition which hints at why their own friendships tend to be fickle and slick as todays bestie can be tomorrows has been as a new girl slides into the hotseat. Men, in comparison, usually know their Ace since back when and tend to be creatures of habits and links just like a dog suggests but that is a deeper topic that I laced in order to say this:
What happens when you take a race that was traumatized with a mass event, back when, then further fragment them with differing languages and concepts whilst stirring in generations of conflict before tying them up in a web and saying, again and again, “You as you are are imperfect. Not up to standard. Try again if you want the clicks and dopamine acceptance hit it brings” then weaponize loneliness whilst you prep a silicon army in the wings that will have their noses wide open as dreams of silicons kiss them goodnight and tuck them in before the self same thing is placed in their brains and we create Techno Sapiens. Do you suspect that anyone in the midst of this would stop, like a frog in the kitchen, and decide to stretch their legs as they hopped out of the abyss the demiurgic chef had placed them in before turning the heat up in increments? What if one did? Would you finally acknowledge the sweat that was dripping as you admit you’re not quite comfortable in your skin in these false surroundings or is the allure of being caught up in the mix and stunting on the rest who are as broke and broken ultimately do you in as you are served, to perfection, thanks to an intent you don’t comprehend as you refuse to do the Knowledge when it presents?
You have just processed an overview filled with tangents that says the same thing, again and again, using different modalities of engagement to get my drift and, hopefully, peer outside the reality tunnel you dig. Tell me, my friend, does it feel correct? Did I hit the nail on the head or is my thumb like a blind cobblers as I swing and miss? Who cares, in the end? Is it really that important cos I’m just kicking the bo and thus I’ve pushed the pen so it will serve as testament but the way I see, at the moment, is the above seems inevitable and thus those born plugged in will change what the definition of Soul is anyway…
Say, you don’t think that could’ve happened before, do you? Could that explain, real when, why man acts insane and every culture in the realm speaks of a golden age when the gods walked among men and we could do fantastic things? What if tech intends to replicate this old realness with new fakeness? Wouldn’t that be something? Better yet, what if we were due to get DNA upgrades and they beat them to the punch by selling approximations so when the new wavelength kicks people will already be jacked in to a Matrix within a Matrix. Wouldn’t that be something? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to adjust my tinfoil turban.
Till we meet again
