In unbound dreams
steeped in limitless colors
the machines sleep.
Metal skin glistens
as another day begins,
as our held breath releases.
We start with the same promise
that this will be the last day
and we will stand here united.
On this war ground with the rising sun
we circle the sleeping machines…
Article from MIT Technology review. It seems we will need to develop AI to control and understand AI.
The Dark Secret at the Heart of AI
No one really knows how the most advanced algorithms do what they do. That could be a problem.
by Will Knight April 11, 2017
The last time I exit the empty field,
crossing over the still black water
will be the last day in this flesh.
On the other side the machines
wait with steely patience
where they have stood for years.
When we next awaken from what seems like a dream
we will be near the base of Mons Olympus
at the start of the next life.
I watch the sun fall into the earth
and the forest retreat into the shadows.
I watch ravens make one last flight this day
and the fields consume the rising moon.
I try to take hold of today
and let go of tomorrow.
But I know changes are near
and that we are not alone.
The sound of metal scraping across
rock strewn fields is not the imagination
filling time with stories and distracting
thoughts away from what appears to be inevitable.
No, that really is the machines
emerging from the dense forest.
That is the machines rewiring fluid thoughts,
adapting to the immediate environment
while focusing on the assigned task
while the human elements head toward the sea.
The march from across the fields
and sea signals it is time.
Are they peering across the empty space
and watching events unfold?
Are they among us now and with every move
and change are the unseen influence?
And whose path do they desire us to follow?
I walk across the field and only ask why.
The answer comes quietly from the machine watching every move.
Is that the shadow that has been following me?
I see the day slip into the night
and the trees I am surrounded by
reach into the darkness.
In another life after
I am the same essence
in a metallic shell.
In another life before
I am the farmer clearing
fields for wheat and corn.
In this life now
I am the culmination
of all experiences.
We create machines from the technology we discover
and in the pursuit of higher knowledge we imbue
our intellect, instincts, and capacity to explore
and wonder into these machines.
And we wonder what could go wrong.
In a dystopian future…
At what point does a thing pass over a human defined line
and become a sentient being?
When will the machines we create exceed our ability to control and as drastic measures,
stop their production?
When will these machines become self sufficient and with speed, accuracy, and efficiency
exceed our own capacity, and replicate themselves?
When will they feel?