This post just wouldn’t finish writing itself.
They call him God. But I reckon he’s a better player than that.
Rugby announcer describing Brian O’Driscoll
Christmas has come and gone. It was 65 degrees so we took the convertible out for a jog over the rolling hills of Ohio farm country. No horse drawn sleigh here.
Aliens simply need to watch our tv commercials to see how dumb we are. We were in a bar, watching football, as one does. The commercials appeal to a level of ignorance that is shocking–directed towards the Trump supporters I suppose. But I’ve had the same observations lately about movies. The quality of the writing and acting is simply painful. I’m thankful every day for my lifelong love of reading books and periodicals.
I think visual media now is so much more of quantity over quality. In the olden days, we might watch a movie once a week or so. Now people are watching a movie or a few episodes of a series every night. So the studios are just kicking out crap right and left knowing the quality is mostly irrelevant. Just recycle the same themes over and over and plug in a few new actors.
I’ve been reading so much about AI I don’t know if I should just move full time into a doomsday bunker or quit my job and know AI is saving humanity. But I’ve learned a few things in the past few weeks.
I enlisted the help of ChatGPT and within 20 minutes solved a problem I’ve been trying to solve for a while. The problem is pretty simple actually. I was just trying to save money. Me and some colleagues are starting up a new charity. I am on point with setting up the non-profit and establishing the governance. I could of course call an attorney who would consult with me and he/she would take a template from the last non-profit they set up, change the names and stakeholders, and then charge me $1,200 for something that honestly would have taken a few minutes. This is offensive to me. Not because I am cheap per se’. But because I don’t like being taken advantage of. I actually met with a small town attorney in OH and it was immediately clear that I knew more about non-profits and governance than that hillbilly. His father, also an attorney, is a pretty good dude. Experienced and knows enough to tell you if he is outside his area of expertise. But I could not get an appointment with dad so I went with Jr. Yea…….
I ran an initial query and within a few minutes Chat coughed up sample language for a non-profit corporation in all the key areas. I took that initial output, added some tweaks and completed my draft. Saved money and time and have a very good set of draft documents to send to my colleagues.
Example #2 – I was intrigued when the writers and actors went on strike and one of their big sticking points is the ability to use AI to replace their work. Seemed fair enough. Especially for actors. No one should make a fake video of Denzel Washington doing his thang. The computer would just be embarrassed and the rest of us would be cheated. I thought perhaps the writers deserved the same consideration. But here’s the thing. And I have been saying this to Brittany for some time now; the writing in movies and streaming services has been complete shit now for years. And it’s going downhill in a hurry. Honestly, who are they hiring to write this drivel?
My most current example. Tonight, on the road in Boston and tired, instead of going out with the team I grabbed a pizza and came to my room. And to pass the few minutes while I ate and before I tucked into bed to read, I fired up Netflix and up comes a movie called ‘Hunter Killer’. I’m no fan of Gerard Butler, but it also had Gary Oldman. And I am a fan of Gary. So I moved on it.
A plot summary for context. The head of the navy wants to bring in Gerard Butler to be captain of a navy submarine. Switch to a scene where a fully cameo’d up Butler is hunting a massive elk in Scotland. Just before Butler releases the arrow to kill his big bull elk and regain his manhood, he sees a small female elk and a calf come into the picture. And he releases the tension on his bow and backs down. So we are led to believe the bull elk is the proud father going out and earning a living to take care of that baby and momma. Except that’s not how it works. The bull elk probably has another dozen or so kids running around the Scottish highlands, each with different moms and wondering what the hell happened to my deadbeat dad. So make no mistake—the fate of that particular calf and doe had nothing to do with whether or not he loosed that arrow. But there it was.
And this more poignant example. When Butler gets helicoptered out of his highlands hunting ground and dropped into the boatyard, he and the crew keep talking about their ‘ship’. But US Navy submarines are not called ships. They are called boats. This I know because I was in the US Nuclear Navy for 8+ years. You don’t take a ‘ship’ to depth. Now—If I was a Hollywood writer and tasked with writing on a script about a submarine, and either didn’t have access to internet and was never in the Nuclear Navy, or was just too dumb to do a little research or watch Denzel in Crimson Tide, then I can see how this mistake might have been made. But that mistake was made. And I am pretty sure AI would not have made that same mistake.
And here’s the point. If we as humans are too fucking lazy to do the most basic of research, on something so simplistic as are elks good day-2-day providers for their kids and are submarines boats or ships, then we deserve to lose our jobs to AI.
Life remains a whirlwind of sorts. After DC and then Florida, we were back in OH for a few days, then to West Virginia for a few days, and then Boston for two weeks. Flew home Thursday night and then drove to Pittsburgh Friday afternoon and had dinner with my super cool childhood friend Bill McGrath and his wife Mary Jo. Lovely dinner with smart and kind friends. The stuff of a good life. As it should be.
We also met up with Brittany’s dad and sister and her husband for a day of checking out Pittsburgh and then on to Brit’s aunt’s 75th birthday. It was an elegant and very beautiful dinner.
In Boston we hung out with Eric and Pierre and his family for a couple of days. Was lovely to see Inbal and Luka and Daniela after so many years. So more time with good friends.
Bill and I grew up in the same little neighborhood of Chautauqua. The McGrath’s lived next to the big park where we played pick-up football and baseball pretty much every day when school wasn’t corrupting us. I drove by that park a few years ago on a Saturday afternoon and it was empty as a Kansas prairie. These days, I suppose kids come from the womb with a computer in their hands and spend their time alternately gaming and hacking into the school’s system to change their grades. Or something. They damn sure aren’t playing pick-up anything in that big beautiful ball field.
I stole a few days at Black Dog Ridge before this last trip of the year to Boston. BDR has instantly become my happy place. It’s hard to describe. I suppose a combination of a home completely of my own design and the solitude that comes with being on top of a mountain in a forest in a sparsely populated state. The trees are magnificent—even now, with the leaves on the ground so deep that it’s like walking through a creek. And the river, a few hundred feet below. Always there. Always flowing and changing. The wildlife. The serenity. The peace. It’s not uncommon when I’m there alone to go 5 or 6 days without seeing another person. I don’t really go to town unless I need to shop for food. Or, if something interesting is happening in Lewisburg.
Marti loves it too of course. The leash never makes it out of the car once we pass through the gates of BDR. We take our long walks and she runs through the woods. There are few examples of expressions of pure joy that can compete with Marti running through the forest. I think because she spends so much time chasing deer, that she thinks she is a deer. She leaps — high and far, rather than just sprint. Even when there is no brush or tree limb to jump, she still does that long high leap time and time and time again. It’s fascinating and exhilarating to watch. I’ve never gotten a good video. But someday I will.
I did have to go to Lewisburg one day on this trip—for my monthly meeting with Ascend. After my meeting with Callie and then a couple of work meetings which I took there at Basecamp, I took Marti on a long walk. Later still, I wandered up to The Livery for a drink and dinner. It happened to be the night of the holiday parade which was starting up just outside the Livery’s front deck. So there was some movement around all that chaos.
Honestly, isn’t it really the case that if you’ve seen one small hometown parade, you’ve seen them all? Unless your kid’s the majorette, or the mascot, or your dad’s the Captain of the American Legion riding on the back of a corvette—what’s the point? None of those scenarios fit with my situation. So I drank my Martini and read the Times on my iPad.
Suddenly, a large, late middle-aged Ginger man in a suit with a bow tie rushes up to the bar from outside demanding a hot cocoa and an Irish Coffee. He was flushed and seemed nearly ready to piss himself over excitement about the parade. This was a grown ass man—wearing a bow tie of all things and just giddy as a schoolgirl at the opening of Barbie movie.
The hot cocoa was for his little ginger mini-me who soon appeared by his side. He was perhaps 16 or 17 and also in suit and bow tie. Every time I see wearing a man wearing a bow tie, I assume he’s an attorney or an accountant trying to prove to his daddy that he’s finally become a man.
After 2.5 years, I will wrap up my project at UMass Memorial Health at the end of next month. It’s bittersweet. This project has been one of my most well-controlled and overall successful (well, let’s see how the actual deployment goes in a week). I’ve loved working for Robin. But 2.5 years is about my limit at any one place. So I am also ready to go find another adventure. The recruiters tell me not to worry — that there’s plenty of work. But I will feel better when the next contract is signed and ready to go.
More on that situation as developments unfold.
Ohio State University is suing the NCAA. Talk about a set of balls. Buckeye football spends more money than any other team in the nation and yet fall short year after year after year. They are a monster player in a business that legally exploits the talents and bodies of young men to enrich themselves and their organization; inducing these men to extract a severe toll on their bodies and to give up some of the most formative and important years of their lives in extreme commitment for a misguided ideal. In a system where everyone from the stadium facilities crew, to the vendors, to the coaching staff, to the announcers and network analysts, are paid for their contributions, the players, the actual employees by any rationale definition of the word, are by law not allowed to be paid for their time. And now because OSU’s prize quarterback (and several other good player) have seen the deficiencies in OSU program and called them out by transferring to another university, OSU wants to sue the NCAA to make their players stay at OSU.
That my friends and readers, is the richest hypocrisy I have seen in some time. And this in a world filled with hypocrisy, mayhem, and self-destructive tendencies. Fortunately there are several other lawsuits working their way through the courts that will eventually ensure players get paid for their college football jobs.
So let’s leave it there for now.
No other news of note
Humbly submitted.
I felt it when the sun came up this morning
Glenn Frey
I knew I could not wait another day
Darling, there is something I must tell you
A distant voice is calling me away
The Martini Tales 