. . . All Meaning Comes From

The Strange Flavour Of Ai Work Is That People Try To Put Together Long Sets Of Rules In Strict Formalisms Which Tell Inflexible Machines How To Be Flexible.

The Proverbial German Phenomenon Of The Verb-at-the-end About Which Droll Tales Of Absentminded Professors Who Would Begin A Sentence, Ramble On For An Entire Lecture, And Then Finish Up By Rattling Off A String Of Verbs By Which Their Audience, For Whom The Stack Had Long Since Lost Its Coherence, Would Be Totally Nonplussed, Are Told, Is An Excellent Example Of Linguistic Recursion.

I Am The Thought You Are Now Thinking.

The Key Question Is, No Matter How Much You Absorb Of Another Person, Can You Have Absorbed So Much Of Them That When That Primary Brain Perishes, You Can Feel That That Person Did Not Totally Perish From The Earth... Because They Live On In A 'second Neural Home'?... In The Wake Of A Human Being's Death, What Survives Is A Set Of Afterglows, Some Brighter And Some Dimmer, In The Collective Brains Of Those Who Were Dearest To Them... Though The Primary Brain Has Been Eclipsed, There Is, In Those Who Remain... A Collective Corona That Still Glows.

I Don't Feel I Have The Right To Snuff The Lives Of Chicken And Fish.