There is an eastern fable told long ago of a traveller overtaken on a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast, he gets into a dry well but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. The unfortunate man, not daring to climb out, lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, seizes a twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His hands are growing weaker, and he feels he will soon have to resign himself to the destruction that awaits him, above or below. But while still hanging, he looks around, sees some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig
David and Tamler find themselves unable to attach rational meaning to a single act in their entire lives. Let’s say we publish more articles and books. What then? What about our kids? They’re going off to college. Why? What for? We think about the future of the podcast. Let’s say we get bought out by Spotify and become more famous than Joe Rogan, Dolly Parton, and even Yoel Inbar -- more famous than all the podcasters in the world. So what?
And we can find absolutely no reply.
Plus, we take a test to determine whether we can we tell an AI apart from an analytic philosopher. When should we start getting scared of what AIs are gonna do to us, or what we’re doing to them?
*Note: the main segment is on the first half of Tolstoy’s great memoir "A Confession," but you don’t need to be familiar with the text to appreciate the discussion for this one.
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