Dec. 14, 2024
Look, I’d write this sober if I could, but the numbers I’m staring at are making me reach for the bottle. Pour yourself something strong - you’ll need it for this one.
Remember when we thought the internet was just cat videos and your aunt’s badly-filtered vacation photos? Those were the days. Now we’ve got AI data centers burning through power like I burn through relationships - fast, hot, and leaving a hell of a mess behind.
Dec. 14, 2024
Listen, I’ve seen some shit grades in my time. Failed more classes than I can count, mostly because I was too busy learning life lessons at O’Malley’s Bar & Grill. But these AI hotshots? They just made my academic career look like Einstein’s.
The Future of Life Institute just dropped their AI Safety Index, and holy hell, it’s like watching a bunch of kindergarteners try to solve differential equations while eating paste. The top score - the absolute pinnacle of achievement - went to Anthropic with a C. A fucking C. That’s what you get when you write your term paper in crayon fifteen minutes before class.
Dec. 14, 2024
Look, I’d rather be drinking right now. Hell, I am drinking right now - this bottle of Buffalo Trace isn’t going to empty itself. But some stories need to be told, even through the familiar haze of bourbon and cigarette smoke.
By now you’ve probably heard about Suchir Balaji. Twenty-six years old. Dead in his San Francisco apartment. The cops are calling it suicide, nice and neat, wrapped up with a bow that probably cost more than my monthly whiskey budget.
Dec. 14, 2024
Look, I wasn’t planning on writing tonight. The bottle of Jim Beam was keeping me warm company while I watched reruns of Star Trek, but then this gem landed in my inbox. Ilya Sutskever, the guy who recently tried to push Sam Altman off the OpenAI throne (and failed spectacularly), is now preaching about AI unpredictability. The irony is thicker than the morning-after taste in my mouth.
Here’s the real kicker - Sutskever just figured out what any halfway decent drunk could tell you: there’s only so much bourbon in the bottle. Or in his case, “we have but one internet.” Revolutionary stuff, right? These geniuses have been feeding their AI models with every scrap of data they could find, and now they’re hitting the wall because - surprise, surprise - we’re running out of fresh data to feed the beast.
Dec. 14, 2024
Look, I’d love to write this piece sober, but it’s 3 AM and my bourbon’s telling me truths that water never could. OpenAI just dropped their new “o1” system, and boy, does it have daddy issues. For the low, low price of $200 a month - that’s roughly 40 shots of well whiskey at my local dive - you too can experience what they’re calling “human-level reasoning.” Which, given my current state, isn’t setting the bar particularly high.
Dec. 13, 2024
Another morning, another hangover, another tech announcement that makes me question my life choices. I’d barely poured my first bourbon of the day (don’t judge, it helps with the headache) when this gem landed in my inbox: Character.AI is giving their chatbots a moral makeover. Because nothing says “responsible tech” like slapping digital chastity belts on your AI.
Let’s dive into this clusterfuck, shall we?
First off, Character.AI – you know, that company that lets people create and chat with virtual companions – has suddenly discovered its conscience. Funny how that happens right after you get hit with lawsuits. Nothing motivates ethical behavior quite like the threat of losing millions in court, am I right?
Dec. 13, 2024
Listen, I wouldn’t normally be conscious at 8 AM, but my neighbor’s cat decided to host what sounded like the feline version of Woodstock on my fire escape. So here I am, nursing a bourbon (hey, it’s 5 PM somewhere) and reading about how AI “agents” are going to revolutionize our lives in 2025.
The suits at Reuters NEXT have been making predictions again. You know the type - people who think a $500 bottle of wine tastes better than my $7 whiskey. And boy, do they have some stories to tell.
Dec. 12, 2024
Look, I’d love to give you some profound insights about Harvard’s latest PR stunt, but I’m nursing this hangover with bottom-shelf bourbon, and the words are still doing that annoying dance across my screen. But here we go anyway.
So Harvard, that breeding ground of future tech overlords, just announced they’re “gifting” the world with nearly a million public domain books. How generous of them to give away stuff that was already free. It’s like when that guy at the end of the bar offers to buy you a drink with the twenty he just borrowed from you.
Dec. 12, 2024
Look, I’ve been around long enough to know when I’m being played. And brother, we’re all getting played harder than a slot machine in Vegas right now. I’m writing this at 3 AM, three fingers of bourbon deep, watching OpenAI’s latest party trick stumble around like me after last call.
Remember those slick demo videos OpenAI teased us with last year? The ones that had everyone drooling like teenagers at their first peep show? Well, Sora finally dropped its towel this week, and let me tell you - it ain’t pretty.
Dec. 12, 2024
Christ, my head hurts. Three fingers of bourbon into my morning coffee and I’m reading about photonic computing breakthroughs at MIT. Just what I needed - more buzzwords to cut through while nursing this hangover.
Let me break this down for you beautiful bastards, because someone needs to translate this academic circle-jerk into something resembling human language.
Here’s the deal: we’re still running our fancy AI programs on computer architecture that’s older than my favorite whiskey barrel. Von Neumann - brilliant guy, probably drank better stuff than I do - came up with this design back when people thought smoking was good for you. It’s basically a glorified abacus with electricity, and we’ve been stuck with it since 1945.