Are we willing to pay this price in order to have some neat image generation tools? (I’m not.)

Wait what

Surely Elon “assassination coordinates” Musk is outraged that his own AI would do this. Right?

Things are piling up for Hegseth.

Very helpful context—especially as I consider writing a paper on Grokipedia.

Bookmarking this so that I can return to it and quote the man verbatim when necessary. Gift link.

Good on the publisher, and what a dumb world we live in. Also, “narco terrorist” reminds me of the poli sci class I had where we spent an entire day (week?) talking about the difficulty of clearly defining terrorism. It was mostly an abstract conversation, even with a GWOT backdrop, but I feel like it was preparing me to detect nonsense from this DoD.

Flock continues to suck.

J’écoute souvent Les Cowboys Fringants, et j’ai déjà écrit au sujet de combien je trouve de l’importance dans les paroles de leurs chansons. En plus, il m’arrive souvent de critiquer le « Black Friday » et toutes les façons dont on gâche le week-end de Thanksgiving avec le commercialisme (s’il n’est pas déjà gâché par les mythes colonialistes qu’on lui attribue, bien sûr).

Pourtant, j’ai été étonné ce week-end par combien la chanson « L’Amérique pleure » semblait évoquer directement le Black Friday et tous les problèmes de la culture américaine auxquels je suis particulièrement sensible pendant le Thanksgiving. Les personnes qui doivent travailler pendant les fêtes pour permettre aux autres de fêter (tiens, on pourrait invoquer aussi « Santé » de Stromae), les « excès de [notre] époque », les bouchons sur les autoroutes, et ainsi de suite. En voici la vidéo :

Powerful read on the need for (and absence of) hope this Advent for immigrant Christians.

This book starts off strong, with a very interesting exploration of Christology in the Book of Mormon. There are some other interesting observations, too (including a frank-to-the-point-of-productive-discomfort evaluation of race in the Book of Mormon). If I were only reading the conclusion, I’d likely give it full marks. A few things keep me from doing that for the book as I read it, though.

I admit that some of those things are entirely my fault. As with the last two books in the series, I’ve read this one too quickly to appreciate the arguments it’s making. Furthermore, I confess that I have personal biases against a couple of the authors cited even though I don’t know much about those authors—it’s the laziest kind of bias, and while I might still dislike those authors after a thorough evaluation of their work, it’s not solid ground for grumping about their appearance in this book.

If one idea from Ellul has made the most impact on me, it’s his fierce criticism of attitudes of inevitability.

Some real cathartic rage in here.

This book is great: its emphasis on sight and invisibility, its meta-emphasis on self-evaluation and self-deception, and its leaning into the Book of Mormon’s condemnation of wealth and departure from contemporary Latter-day Saint understandings. So much good stuff in here. The only thing keeping me from giving full marks is that I’ve skimmed it too quickly to critically evaluate (or appreciate) the throughlines of the book.

I genuinely don’t know what legal liability for generative AI products should look like, but arguing that the onus was on the kid and his family because of TOS strikes me as incredibly shitty, not to mention falling back on “look, we have a mission to benefit humanity by building AI, have you taken that into account?”

Black Friday is one of the worst things to ever happen to our world, but if I had to suddenly consider finding an expensive replacement for the bike I use to regularly commute to work, I guess I’m glad the choice came up this week?

Thinking about how I don’t know much about the Great Recession because I lived in a Mormon missionary bubble during that time—and about how during that time, I was supervised by a recently retired high-ranking Fannie Mae executive.

I had the opportunity to preach yesterday for Reign of Christ Sunday. Reign of Christ Sunday is one of those liturgical moments that admittedly makes me a little nervous: I like the idea of putting Jesus first, but it really, really depends on what we understand by Jesus. (I’ve been writing on this for a while, it looks like.) So, I decided to take the opportunity to invite members of my congregation to reflect on who Jesus is for them and what it means to put that Jesus first. Here’s the sermon text:

Beautiful and damning post.

I struggled my way through this book, but I also liked it? My wanting to quickly fly through this series hampered my ability to sit with it and evaluate its arguments in the way that it deserves, and it feels weird to review the book based on the skim that I ended up settling for. Yet, I also really liked the directions Wrathall explored, and I would be eager to reread what he has to say with more care and attention sometime in the future.

This remains one of the best pieces of short fiction I’ve ever encountered, and I have trouble imagining ever finding anything that replaces it in my mind. It is existentially terrifying and yet beautiful, it’s clever in even the smallest details, and I will never stop thinking about it.

This provides some helpful context, including confirming my suspicion that Twitter!Grok works differently than Base!Grok when it comes to these weird episodes.

Sometimes, AI news gets so depressing that it loops back around to hilarious.

One of the great “be careful what you wish for” stories is The Monkey’s Paw in which a family receives a magic item that grants wishes but discovers to their horror that all the wishes are granted in terrible, horrible ways. I can’t remember when I last read the story (though I’m confident I have—maybe in high school?), but monkey paw has stuck in my brain as the metaphor for this idea that wishes can go terribly, terribly wrong, so you really ought to think them through.

Ever since blogging twice about the Liahona and Jacques Ellul’s technique six months ago(!), I’ve been thinking a lot about this story in the Book of Mormon as a possible starting point for a Book of Mormon-based theology of technology. As I first wrote then, I think this story is particularly interesting for the implicit tension in the story: Why would an all-powerful God need a mechanical(?) device in order to communicate their divine will to their followers?