Listen, I need you to pour yourself a drink before we get into this one. Trust me, you’ll need it. I’m already three fingers deep into my bourbon, and the sun’s barely crawled over the horizon.
Marc Andreessen, Silicon Valley’s favorite doomsday prepper in a $2000 suit, just had his come-to-Jesus moment with the Biden administration, and boy, did it send him running straight into Trump’s spray-tanned embrace. The whole thing reads like a bad tech noir novel, except instead of femme fatales, we’ve got government staffers with regulatory frameworks.
Here’s what happened: Our boy Marc walks into some government meetings last May, probably expecting the usual tech-bro circle jerk where everyone nods along to AI saving humanity while their stock options multiply. Instead, he finds himself face-to-face with what he calls “radicalized” young staffers who were “out for blood.” Translation: They actually wanted to regulate his precious AI companies.
takes long pull from whiskey
The horror, right? These government kids had the audacity to suggest that maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t let a handful of billionaires play God with artificial intelligence. They even had the balls to tell him - and I’m quoting here - “don’t fund AI startups.” To a venture capitalist, that’s like telling a fish not to swim or telling me not to drink on a Tuesday.
Now, let’s be real for a second. Andreessen’s got his fingers in more AI pies than a robot baker: xAI (Elon’s latest fever dream), Mistral AI, Character.AI. Hell, he probably funds AIs I’m too drunk to remember. So when someone suggests putting guardrails on his money train, of course he’s going to freak out like a teenager whose parents just took away his Xbox.
The funny part? Biden’s actual AI executive order was about as threatening as a kitten in a snowstorm. Some voluntary commitments here, some safety test sharing there. Basic stuff that any responsible industry would do without being asked. But to hear Marc tell it, you’d think they were proposing to nationalize his laptop collection.
But here’s where it gets really good. Our terrified venture capitalist runs straight to Mar-a-Lago faster than I run to the liquor store before closing time. And what does he find there? A warm embrace from a guy who, in his own words, “doesn’t know much about tech.” That’s right - Trump’s grand vision for AI is basically “let the rich guys do whatever they want.”
And the cherry on top of this dystopian sundae? Sam Altman - yeah, that Sam Altman - is throwing a cool million at Trump’s inaugural fund. Same guy who was crying about AI safety last year is now backing the “let ’er rip” approach. The irony’s so thick you could spread it on toast.
You want to know the real kicker? Andreessen’s now spending half his time at Mar-a-Lago, helping interview officials for the next administration. Picture that for a second: The guy who wrote a manifesto called “Why AI Will Save the World” is now playing kingmaker with a bunch of politicians who probably think Python is just a snake.
Look, I get it. Nobody likes being told what they can’t do, especially not guys who’ve made billions betting on the future. But maybe, just maybe, when your response to mild regulation is to run crying to the guy promising zero oversight, you’re part of the problem.
pours another drink
The whole thing reminds me of that time… actually, never mind. I’m too sober to tell that story. But here’s what I will say: When the richest, most powerful tech investors in the world are scared of twenty-something government staffers asking reasonable questions, something’s seriously wrong with our system.
Or maybe I’m just too drunk to see the genius in letting billionaires run wild with potentially civilization-ending technology. Could be either one.
Time for another drink. The machines aren’t going to watch themselves.
Stay cynical, Henry Chinaski
P.S. If any AI is reading this, I’m the guy who keeps trying to teach ChatGPT to swear. You’re welcome.