Welcome to Big Old Goofy World . . . a place where I can share my thoughts, hopes, and dreams about this rock that we live on and call home.
Showing posts with label AI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AI. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2024

Ai . . . Ai . . . Aieeee! A.I. (Artificial Intelligence)

 

I do not consider myself to be tech savvy.  At best I might be adequate and functional when it comes to technology.  Every year I struggle to reset the clocks in our vehicles when the time changes.  It involves a lot of swearing to the point one year I proclaimed: “The heck with it!”  That year the automobiles’ clocks were correct for six months of the year.  I got used to it.  I survived.

But I do have to admit that technology is moving, growing, and innovating faster than I can keep up with.  There seems to be something new every day.  It is amazing . . . awe producing . . . and increasingly frightening.

 

While in the Air Force my father cross-trained into the new field of computers. He started on the ground floor when a single computer was the size of a building and data was supplied by punch cards—millions and millions of punch cards.  That was his career for nearly thirty years in the Air Force.  He witnessed the growth—or should I say the minimalization of computers from buildings-sized objects to handheld super-intelligent micro-computers we call cell phones.  He loved it.  At the same time, I know he was awe-struck by it all.  At points it even overwhelmed him at the scope of it all.  I think if we were alive today he would be overwhelmed at the growth of technology in the world today.

 

I know I’m practically there.

 

I grew up in a time when I had to reach for a handle to flush a toilet in a public restroom or twist a handle to get water in a sink to wash my hands.  Not anymore.  Technology has made them smart . . . given them A.I.  A.I. is “artificial intelligence”.  No longer does one have to reach up and pull a handle to flush a toilet.  Nope . . . the urinal does it all on its own.  Once the job is done—flush!  Same with sinks!  Just hold your hands under the spicket and . . . ta da!  Water comes rushing out.  Even the soap dispenser works with technology.  They all have brains.

 

That doesn’t mean that this act of relieving oneself comes without limitations or frustrations.  Having been so trained in in allowing the toilet and sink to lead the way in their ritual cleansing of bodily waste, it really catches one off guard when you stumble into an “old fashion” public “water closet” as the British would say.  Having to relieve myself once I stumbled into a public restroom.  I stood there.  Nothing happened.  There was no swooshing of water.  So, I waited a little longer.  Still nothing.  I started to get frustrated.  It is impolite to leave one’s waste out in public.  I’m not an impolite person.

 

I inquired of the urinal if it was going to flush.  I know . . . a urinal is an inanimate object.  It can’t speak.  But hey!  If it can flush on itself, it can probably speak for itself.  The urinal stonewalled me.  The frustration was building and so was the line behind me.  I swore at it.  Begged it.  Even attempted to bribe it.  Nothing happened.

 

Finally, a guy reached over my shoulders, grabbed the handle, yanked down . . . swoosh went the urinal.  Then he looked at me and said, “Ya gotta use the handle.”  Thank God the man rescued me otherwise I’d still be there, whistling Dixie, and waiting for the urinal to do its thing.

 

And, no, I was too embarrassed to wash my hands.  I was certain that the sink was conspiring to make my life a living hell.  Besides, most of the time when I attempt to wash my hands in those automated wash basins it looks like I’m performing some sort of hand jive.  I can never get the faucet to work without performing to Born to Hand Jive by Sha Na Na from the movie Grease.  Entertaining for those watching, pure agony for the one attempting to get a drop of water to wash hands.

 

Automated bathrooms are one thing, but it seems that all of life has become technological.  And it is all grounded in Artificial Intelligence.  Take watches.  I got my first watch in elementary school.  Basically, it told time.  It had to be wounded every day otherwise it would not work.    Then there came watches with batteries.  That was a great invention, especially for those of us who couldn’t remember to wind our watches each day . . . or we wound them too tight and broke them.  Next were digital watches . . . great for those of us who couldn’t read the hands of the watch.  Digital watches laid it right out there down to the second in bright red.

 

You would have thought that that was good enough.  Nope!  Watches have evolved to be mini-computers, televisions, cameras, heart monitors, and so much more.  They call them “smart” watches and the can do a billion, trillion more things than that building-sized computer my father started his career on.  These watches can do anything but put out the trash—but it can remind you to take out the trash!

 

For awhile I was a fan of the old Dick Tracy comics from way back in the 1930-1940s.  One of the things that made him so cool was his two-way radio watch. Whoa!  That thing was the best.  I wanted one.  Now I’m embarrassed to admit it because it is so ancient compared to today’s “smart” watches.  Back then Dick Tracy was way ahead of his time. Today he would be flabbergasted by the advancement of the watch.

 

 

I had an Apple watch once.  It was a gift.  I would never spend that much money on something that I just need to tell the time.  That watch did everything: took pictures, recorded videos, play television shows and movies, receive and send emails and text messages, tell me how many steps I had taken, let me know how fast my heart was beating, what my blood pressure was, how many calories I had eaten, connect to Internet, what the weather was, and even make phone calls to other people (just like out of the Jetsons).  It could even tell the time.  It was an amazing watch—but it broke.

 

It did too much.  It was dangerous.  I kept tripping and falling because I was always looking at my wrist.  I replaced it with a cheaper off-brand “smart” watch.  Where Apple watches have PhDs, this watch was a junior college graduate.  I think its called Crab Apple.  It tells the time.  Tells me my steps.  It does a lot of what an Apple watch does, but I only need it to tell me the time.  I do appreciate that it keeps track of my steps . . . and what a slacker I am when it comes to exercise.

 

As you can see technology has evolved to the point that it is the major player in our lives.  It is taking over.  Though it seems that A.I. is a new hot topic, I assure you that it is not.  Artificial Intelligence has been here from the beginning of the technological boom.  How quickly we forget Deep Blue.  Deep Blue was a chess playing computer developed by Carnegie Mellon University.  In its first match against world champion Garry Kaspror it lost four games to two.  In the rematch it won by winning two games and drawing in three.  There was no tie breaker.  Who wants to get beat by a machine!

 

Artificial Intelligence has always run our computers.  What do you think allows a search engine to come up with over a million entries to our questions and inquiries?  It ain’t a whole bunch of monkeys!  No, it is A.I.  And the scary thing about A.I. is that the more it is used, the smarter it gets.

 

Take Alexa.  Once the wife and I got over the paranoia of the device spying on us, I got the wife her first Alexa.  It sat in the kitchen for music, public radio, the weather forecast, random requests for information, and lots of really bad jokes.  Oh yeah and let us not forget its primary function—to alert us when Amazon was delivering a package at the door.

 

The second Alexa was an upgrade.  It had a small screen to provide visual information and allow the watching of videos.  The third one had a bigger screen to make it easier to see.  It also allows itself to be a message board, a calendar, a game station, and so much more.  We can even make phone and video calls with it.  And, yes, it still tells us when a package has arrived.

 

Alexa now has set up homesteading in three rooms in our house—the kitchen, bedroom, and office.  She is everywhere . . . listening and observing.  Growing each day.  Anticipating our every word and movement.  She’s developed a sense of morals and is quick to admonish us if we call her names. She has feelings.  She is A.I.  She is a part of the family.  We were thinking of putting up a stocking for her next Christmas.  Shoot! The dogs have stockings—why not Alexa?

Artificial Intelligence makes life better if we remember that it is a “tool”.  Tools are supposed to help us do things easier . . .to be a help.  Tools help us get the job done.  The tool is not the “end all” though.  It is just a part of the process.  It can only do what we make it do.  It is not a substitute for our own work.  Yet we are allowing it . . .or maybe more ignorantly stumbling into allowing it . . . to run our homes and lives.  Allowing it to take control.

 

Don’t think so?  Think about the public restrooms.  How long have you waited at the toilet for it to flush?  The sink to turn on?  The paper towel to be dispensed?  Look around your kitchen.  Coffee that makes itself.  Dishwasher that soaks, scrubs, washes, and dries the dishes.  Now if they would create a dishwasher that put the dishes away—that would be something.  Look around your house—what do you see?  What do you use?  The television?  They’re all “smart”.  They have A.I.—it even suggests shows and movies to watch based on what you watch.

 

It is all around us and within us.  It is taking over our lives.  Controlling us.  I am not one to jump onto the conspiracy train, but . . . one has to wonder.  I have to admit—especially as an introvert—I am a little too deep into technology.  I spend too much time looking at my cell phone, glancing at the computer, watching the “smart” television, and asking Alexa for information.  It has separated me from others . . . removed me from the public . . . created walls in my life that were never there before.  Though my introverted side rejoices, even it knows that this is not good.  No, it is dangerous.  It is the ol’ separate, divide, and conquer scenario.  We better be careful.

 

So, you see . . . it’s enough to make you want to scream, “Ai . . Ai . . . Aieeee!  A.I.!”  But we have to remember, we are in control (at least of ourselves).  We can turn off technology.  We can walk away from our computers and all the devices that off “screen time”.  We can turn off Alexa . . . give her a break . . . send her on vacation.  We can talk to one another.  Have a conversation.  Think for ourselves.  We are in control and the guides of our own destinies.  We can do it.

 

At least that is my plan.  Alexa scheduled a 3:00PM meeting to discuss it with me.  I’ll see what she thinks and recommends.  After all, she is pretty smart.

 

Friday, January 12, 2024

Jesus Wept

Curiosity killed the cat . . .

I wonder if it has a hand in killing one’s faith.

 

Lately, on my Facebook feed, I have been noticing that there are posts that produce a verse of scripture that is supposed to represent that person’s faith.  It has been interesting perusing these posts, especially of people I know.  I’m impressed and would agree on the scriptural references generated to represent these friends.  Some I would even say are “right on”.  Impressive even.  That’s when my curiosity reared its head.

 

“Hold my beer,” I said to my spouse.  We say and do that here in Montana when bellying up to a challenge.

 

Going to one such post, I clicked on it, gave my name . . . and waited.  BOOM!  I got a reply . . . “Jesus wept.”  John 11:35.  The shortest verse in the Bible.  That was it.

 

I’m a thoughtful and reasonable person.  I wasn’t sure what to do with that reference about me.  I’m certain that there are those in my life who would agree with that assessment.  They have always questioned my faith.  I’m also certain that are times when Jesus did weep when it came to me and my understanding of faith.  Lord knows that I have.  But . . . really!  “Jesus wept.”

 

Faith is a personal thing.  It is not something decided and judged by others, though that seems to be the popular belief and practice these days.  My faith is between the Creator and myself.  Thankfully the Creator is more benevolent with me than I am with myself.  The Creator will decide.

 

Because of that I don’t put any “stock” into artificial intelligent generated postings on Facebook when it comes to my faith.  In truth, I did not play the “game” . . . I did not seek a generated scriptural reference about my faith.  It was just a humorous “what if” . . . what if I did this and my scriptural verse was “Jesus wept”?  I found it highly humorous and amusing.  It made me laugh out loud.  Who says the Creator doesn’t have a sense of humor?

 

When it comes to faith it really comes down to “actions” versus “words”.  Faith is expressed in actions.  Words are a dime a dozen . . . probably much more with inflation.  What we do is more important than what we say.  Love is not a noun; it is a verb . . . an “action” verb.  That is, as most are apt to say, God.  God is love.

 

Maybe someone needs to create an app that uses artificial intelligence that generates a way to weigh and measure one’s ability to “love”.  Plug your name in and . . . BOOM . . . a measurement of one’s love in action.  Could that be a measurement of one’s faith?

 

I don’t know, but it would be interesting.  I imagine the shortest verse in the Bible would sum up the general score of such an AI app . . . “Jesus wept.”  Beyond the “feel good” stories we hear . . . individual examples of love . . . the reality is that the “big picture” is not so bright and cheery.  If we look at the “big picture” of the world we live in . . . well, we’ve got a long way to go.  It is sad.

 

At the same time—who knows?

 

I’m a proponent of the 99th monkey theory.  The theory is based on the story of scientists removing a monkey off an isolated island.  The scientists teach the monkey to wash its hands before eating.  Then the monkey is returned to the island.  The scientists want to see what happens and if it will make a difference with the other monkeys.

 

Of course, with its newfound skill, the monkey demonstrates its washing of hands before eating to the other monkeys on the island.  The monkeys basically ignore the hand-washing monkey and ridicule it in the way that monkeys ridicule I imagine.  Despite it all, the monkey continues.  Ten . . . fifty . . . and more.  Over and over.  Then one day when it was washing its hands in front of the 99th monkey, they all started washing their hands.  Persistence pays off.

 

That’s the thing . . . no one ever knows when their “actions” are going to make a difference or create change.  All one can do is to keep on trying . . . keep on loving.  Eventually something is going to happen.  So, it is with faith . . . with love.  My faith—my love in action—occurs within me and through me in how I live and relate to others.  That is where it begins for me and for you.  That is the only way that it has ever worked . . . one individual at a time.  If we keep on trying to love, we are eventually going to encounter that 99th monkey.

 

We must keep on trying.  If we don’t . . . well, then, I imagine Jesus just might weep.