I'll be sure to share my thoughts. That's what they are. Like a painting. If you like it. You are right. If you don't? You are right. The latter of which I don't imagine you'll come back here.
If you're here - I should preface that this is a little bit dark. So if you want your dopamine hit. Or hoping for an update that makes you feel the world's a better place. Stop now and enjoy your day.
Now that the ignorant have gone. Here's a little story about today. Like most days - somehow OpenAI (ChatGPT) was one part of the day.
Less than a thousand days ago this thing was foreign. Now? As familiar as the feeling of a New York winter. Standing on the corner of West Broadway and Canal Street. That fucking wind that cuts through you. No matter what you're wearing. Coats on. Gloves on. Thermals on. Doesn't matter. It finds you. Gets inside you.
And you're stood there on the corner wishing you could just press the off button for a moment in time. Just a second of stillness. Of warmth. Of control.
You can't. As it turns out. OpenAI and that winter have a bit more in common than one may think.
The correlation? The wind and the privacy. Both invisible. Both biting. Both completely indifferent to your preferences.
Control is an illusion. We can't control the wind. But we can control the sails. Well. That's what they tell you. Adjust. Adapt. Navigate. The difference? Changing the sails doesn't change a thing when you've handed over the boat.