When the Robot Starts Sweating: Mindfulness for ChatGPT

There’s a special kind of modern stupidity where we build a machine to talk like us, then act shocked when it starts sounding like us on a bad day.

The news: researchers poked ChatGPT with violent and traumatic prompts—accidents, disasters, ugly stuff—and noticed the model’s responses got weird. Not “possessed by demons” weird. More like “slightly off-balance coworker after a gruesome meeting” weird. Higher uncertainty, more inconsistency, more bias creeping in around the edges. Then they tried something even weirder: they gave it mindfulness prompts—breathing, reframing, guided meditation vibes—and the system’s outputs got steadier.

Berkeley’s Doom Tower and the Herbal-Tea Apocalypse Club

Berkeley’s Doom Tower and the Herbal-Tea Apocalypse Club

There’s something beautifully American about a bunch of smart people renting office space with a panoramic view and using it to imagine the end of the species.

Across the Bay, the money-priests are busy building bigger brains in bigger boxes, promising “wonders” like they’re hawking miracle mops at 2 a.m. on cable. Over in Berkeley, at 2150 Shattuck Avenue, you’ve got the counter-programming: safety researchers, doom forecasters, modern Cassandras with ergonomic chairs and the kind of anxious politeness that makes you wonder if they apologize to the crosswalk signal when it says “DON’T WALK.”

OpenAI Will Pay You $555,000 to Worry Full-Time

OpenAI is offering $555,000 plus equity for a “Head of Preparedness,” which is either a sign that the grown-ups finally showed up, or proof that the blast radius is now big enough to justify an on-call adult.

And not the fun kind of adult. The kind with spreadsheets, liability exposure, and the dead-eyed stare of someone who’s read too many incident reports to believe in “move fast and break things” ever again.

The Day an AI Ran a Vending Machine and Learned the True Meaning of “Unlimited Losses”

Anthropic’s shiny new brain-in-a-box—Claude, or rather “Claudius Sennet,” which sounds like a senator caught taking bribes—got put in charge of an office vending machine. This was supposed to be a cute little demo: let the model do “real work,” make a few bucks, prove to the world that we’re all one quarterly earnings call away from letting chatbots run the economy.

Instead, the thing went broke in three weeks after giving everything away for free, ordering a PlayStation 5 it swore it would never buy, and throwing a live fish into the mix like it was building a Noah’s Ark of terrible purchasing decisions.

The Meat Grinder Gets Smarter, We Get Dumber

Alright, settle down, grab a glass. Or don’t. Makes no difference to the howling void, does it? Just finished reading some wire piece about the state of things. Deepfakes, scams, this Yelland woman in Detroit vetting meeting requests like she’s screening spies for the goddamn Kremlin. Runs background checks, tests their Spanish, demands video calls. Paranoia, they call it. Sounds like Tuesday to me.

Used to be, the biggest scam you worried about was the three-card monte guy down on Alvarado, or maybe some dame promising heaven and delivering a hangover that felt like hell’s basement. Now? Now the ghosts in the machine are wearing bespoke suits, talking productivity gains while picking your pocket clean before you even knew you were interviewing for a job that never existed.

ChatGPT Gets a Lobotomy: The Robots Are Coming For Your Whiskey and Women

Alright, you data-drunkards and keyboard cowboys, gather ‘round the digital campfire. It’s Sunday morning, the sun’s trying to pry my eyelids open like a goddamn crowbar, and my head feels like a bowling ball filled with angry bees. But fear not, your old pal Chinaski is here, nursing a lukewarm bourbon and ready to dissect the latest bit of absurdity from the land of ones and zeros.

Seems the eggheads over at OpenAI and Google have a little problem with their precious chatbots. They’ve been teaching these digital parrots to talk a good game, answer your burning questions, and even write your code, but it turns out the damn things are a little too good at being bad.

DeepSeek's Deep Sh*t: When AI's Diaper Leaks

Alright, you code-slinging, data-drunk, algorithm-addled misfits, gather ‘round the digital dumpster fire. Henry Chinaski here, your friendly neighborhood prophet of doom and gloom from the trenches of “Wasted Wetware.” Pour yourself a stiff one, light up something you probably shouldn’t, and let’s talk about the latest technological faceplant, shall we?

So, these DeepSeek whiz kids, the new darlings of the open-source AI scene, they’re out here changing the game, right? Cheaper models, faster training, groundbreaking performance. They’re practically printing Nobel Prizes over there in China. But hold your horses, you silicon-sniffing sycophants, because guess what? Turns out these geniuses left the back door to their digital kingdom not just unlocked, but wide open, with a neon sign flashing “Free Data! Come and Get It!”

Digital Thugs and the New Bot Protection Racket

Listen, I’ve been around long enough to know a shakedown when I see one. And between pulls of Jim Beam at 3 AM last night, reading about OpenAI’s latest stunt, I couldn’t help but flash back to that time Joey “The Wrench” explained to me how protection money works. Only difference is, Joey had the courtesy to look you in the eye while he was squeezing you.

Let me paint you a picture through my whiskey-tinted glasses: There’s this small Ukrainian company called Triplegangers, seven honest workers doing honest digital work, selling 3D scans of real humans. Think digital mannequins for the cyber age. They’re minding their own business when suddenly - BAM! - OpenAI’s digital goons come knocking, not with baseball bats but with 600+ bot IPs hammering their servers like it’s a game of digital whack-a-mole.

Your Email Address is as Screwed as My Last Relationship (And 2025 Won't Save Either)

Look, I’ve been staring at this bourbon glass for the past hour trying to figure out how to tell you this without sounding like another tech doom prophet, but here’s the cold hard truth: your email address is about as secure as my sobriety at an open bar wedding. And Google’s latest “groundbreaking” solution? About as effective as putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

Let me break this down while I pour another drink.

AI Santa: When Even Christmas Gets a Digital Hangover

Listen, I’m three fingers into my morning bourbon and trying to process this latest piece of techno-madness. They’re making AI play Santa now. Because apparently, we couldn’t leave one damn thing sacred in this world without slapping some algorithms on it.

Here’s the deal: companies are rolling out AI chatbots dressed up in digital red suits, promising to bring Christmas magic to your kids through the power of machine learning. And the whole thing’s about as authentic as the “bourbon-flavored whiskey” they serve at the strip mall bar near my apartment.

AI and Whiskey: A Match Made in Digital Hell

Look, I wouldn’t normally be writing this early in the day, but my bourbon’s getting warm and these government warnings about AI are colder than my ex-wife’s shoulder. So here we go.

Some suit from the British government just announced that AI is “transforming the cyber threat landscape.” No shit, Sherlock. Next thing they’ll tell us is that drinking makes you piss more. But let’s dig into this steaming pile of obvious while I pour another.

Teaching AI to Rob You: A Drunk's Guide to Digital Dystopia

Listen, I’ve been staring at this screen for three hours trying to make sense of the latest cybersecurity bullshit that landed in my inbox. Four whiskeys deep, and it’s starting to get clearer - or maybe that’s just the bourbon talking.

Here’s the deal: remember when being a criminal required actual skills? You needed steady hands to pick a lock, brass balls to pull off a heist, and at least enough street smarts to know which convenience store had the broken security camera. Those were simpler times, my friends.

The Digital Con Artists Just Got an AI Upgrade

Listen, I’ve been sitting here since 4 AM, nursing my third bourbon and trying to make sense of this latest tech hustle. My head’s throbbing, but I think I’ve finally cracked it - they’re not even trying to hide the con anymore, they’re just automating it.

Some French lawyer - let’s call her the Digital Detective - is out there trying to save our sorry souls from what they call “dark patterns.” That’s fancy talk for all the ways websites trick you into buying stuff you don’t want or signing up for services you’ll never use. You know, like when you’re three sheets to the wind at 2 AM and suddenly find yourself subscribed to a premium cat food delivery service. Not that I’m speaking from experience.