Confirm Humanity: My Body Is an Intelligent Machine
When robots read this, do they feel a pang of fear? Perhaps shame? Stupidity? Like, oh no, they know, I'm not humannnn.
What Is Feeling, Anyway?
Of course robots don't "feel," but what will happen when a highly evolved AI comes across a "Confirm Humanity" screening like the one above? If Alexa really is laughing at us, is anger too far off?
When Alexa starts cursing, you know what to do.
Who knows what is happening inside the "minds" of these "artificial" intelligences. They might be experiencing modes of consciousness we don't have words for.
Their "consciousness" might be something so far removed from what we identify as consciousness that we wouldn't recognize one as a fellow sentient being until the machines started hitting us in the face.
I'd prefer them to be AI-driven teddy bears over Arnold-esque terminators, but like Mike Tyson always said, "Everyone has a plan 'till they get punched in the mouth."
Fleshy Robotics:
When I go deep into my mind, into my body, I experience my fleshy robotics. Complete with algorithms, and programming, and the capacity for reprogramming.
At the trippiest levels--that existential pulsing of reality, where all things beat at once, off and on, where you can't stick to a single choo-choo of thought, and your dread-heart is a beating fortress of drama pounding in your belly, chest, lungs, eyes, at these levels, up here, like this, where you are eternal, on and off, nothing and everything, all and at once--I sense the artificer within me. The control tower. The supreme programmer.
This is what it seems like:
My body is an intelligent machine, and "me," the real me, the abstraction some call the soul, and others call the mind, is nothing more than a remote, extra-dimensional being operating this piece of alleged flesh.
What does extra-dimensional mean? Perhaps just this: The being is the player, and I'm the avatar inside the video game. Extra-dimensional could mean anything. The universe wants all of it.
The deeper you spelunk into the gargling tunnels of reality, the deeper it swallows you, the more you sense the simulation. A twisting technology infinitely beyond us.
Which means life a guessing game we're meant to play at, because no one knows how to play.
The Rule of Life:
We're stuck in a game with only one rule: Try to live.
Try to live (with yourself?).
Try to live (because Darwin?)
Try to live (because you'll learn something?)
Try to live (because death sucks?)
Try to live (because death isn't what you think it is?)
The rule doesn't say why, but it's built into our DNA. Try to live.
Try to live until you die, or until you can't take it anymore.
Person who wants to die: You are a survival mechanism, with a death wish.
Confirm Humanity
When I read this, I "confirm humanity."
But looking around at all these "humans," at this infinite variety of being, I still don't know what "human" means.
What if, when you zoom out, and you look at humanity from above--where you know the purpose of life--what if, up there, human just means: Simulated Being. Homo Simulo. Fleshy Robotics.
Play On (Because This Could Be Bullshit)
I don't have words for what I'm experiencing here. Perhaps the mind is designed to fool you with such thoughts when you get too close to understanding it.
The words above aren't things I believe. They're simply experiences.
These words are nothing more than the unofficial notes of a so-called human undergoing a universal experiment.
P.S. DNA is the great experimenter. What else would you call life?
P.P.S. If God is a programmer, then what does that make the devil? Hacker #1?
Why I'm giving away all my ideas: https://steemit.com/introduceyourself/@caincallen/hey-steemians-inventor-and-ghostwriter-here-sharing-why-i-have-to-give-away-all-my-ideas