Sadness is, perhaps, not an emotion that is often associated with the myriad feelings surrounding generative AI. Anger, despair, fear, suspicion — these will likely be familiar to some. I must confess, I do not as of yet truly understand the more positive emotions some seem to have toward AI LLMs, and so I will not speak to them. Sadness, though, is perhaps not the most obvious emotion — and yet I think it is the one that best describes how I feel about generative AI, and how I have felt for some time. Or, rather better, how I feel…
There once was a great war, and ere its end did many meet Death before their time. But the war ended, as such things must, and the great armies disbanded and the soldiers left the blood-soaked fields of battle and they returned to their homes. Three such soldiers travelled a long road together, for they hailed from the same small distant town, and so for many days did they journey in the company of each other. Yet through an ill chance, though they had long avoided the spectre of death through all that terrible war, Death nevertheless met them on…
I have written a book. There’s really no good way to say that, so I think I’m just going to have to say it again — for my own sake as much as for anything else. I have written a book. It is written. It is a book. I have written it. The book that I wrote has been written. By me. You may observe that this statement says something quite big — that I have written a book. And that it also doesn’t say quite a lot of other big things. I have not edited, finished, or published a…
Every year, I like to write a little postscript to my September Series posts — something that, while it might be congruent with them in some way, is nonetheless a digression. This year, given that the Series has been comprised entirely of creative works by me, I wanted to do something a little different, and something a little self-indulgent — I wanted to write up a few comments on each piece, to explain something of their origins and what I was interested in working with. This is, of course, a wholly unnecessary exercise in many ways. Ideally, each piece should…
By Khazad-dûm, the black pit rank,Hewed dwarf and orc in vengeful rage.To gaping gate the shortbeard sprang,Spirit raising, eyes a-blazing,Axe-stroke hewing, orc-king falling.Yet sudden stopped he at gateway’s edge,Flames espying, shadows crawling.‘Not now,’ Dáin said, and back he stepped.By Ravenhill, green-mound rising,Stood dwarf and elf, grim-grudgeful waiting.With ringing voice the fullbeard spake,Of hoard-gold glowing, glory growing,Mattocks raising with new-king’s raving.Yet doubt remained in dwarf-lord’s mind of⏝king’s-wrath heedless, violence staving.‘Not now,’ Dáin said, and held his step.By Erebor, grey mountain bare,Pressed man on dwarf in desperate strife.In fortress mouth the whitebeard stood,Red-axe swinging, war-cry ringing,Forward pressed the foe to breach the…
