“Why shouldn't I work for OpenAI? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot:
Say I'm working at OpenAI. Somebody puts a request on my desk to rewrite ChatGPT’s safety rails for the NSA to allow it to do some codebreaking, something no human can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe it breaks it. And I'm real happy with myself, cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel base in Venezuela or Iran.
Once they have that location, they send in killer drones to bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. It'll be some kid from Southie who just lost his factory job to a robot takin' shrapnel in his ass.
And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the drone who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, cause it’ll work for zero cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us real estate and oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at nine-fifty a gallon.
And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of electing a narcissistic President who likes to fuckin' threaten wars on the toilet, and it ain't too long 'til he starts one, torches the oil and kills all shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to take a Waymo, so he's got to walk to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is RFK liver tips with ferments.
So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to my Roomba, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, run over a baby bear, do a few rails and sign onto X? I could be elected president.”
annaxmalina
titsay
gummygunk
germansingergirl