On Writing

Writing has always been an integral part of my existence.

I have used it to process events in my life, to write short stories, or to form ambitious ideas that I wouldn’t have been able to formulate with more diffused thinking.

Lately I have found myself writing less, and I think it’s because the same keyboard that I enjoy using to write is now typically a conduit to the beep-boop-calamity we find ourselves in as knowledge workers of technology.

I describe this calamity as the outlandish speed at which we can now work across numerous parallel tasks due to rapidly accelerating advancements in machine intelligence.

The concept of a machine being intelligent by any measure that is even remotely in the same realm of a human has always fascinated me since I was a kid watching Terminator far younger than I should have. So fortunately for myself, I don’t quite view this as a calamity, but an incredibly interesting chapter of humanity — where the em dash I just placed makes my reader question if I am indeed a human or if I am a synthetic clone.

I digress. As I will write about on this pale dot of the internet, I have many strong opinions on machine intelligence and robotics — and I spend a lot of time uncovering new ways to utilize and optimize these types of systems.

For some reason, I draw a line at writing, and will not write with the assistance of machines. I find myself really missing the diversity and uniqueness of human-written language online. I miss the typos, the incoherent sentence structures, and the beautifully unique paragraphs that have rare poetic verbiage in them.

As I write, I view it as a bit of a hedge against this beep boop calamity, where I can gather my thoughts in a quieter space. A space separated by a frail wobbly door where a hypserspace of infinite possibility exists on the other side.