Tags: singularity

spies avengers steed and peel needed

blame it on my a.d.d.

So I've put up a big post about the singularity and diversity and the changing face of SFF prodom over at Charlie's Diary, where I occasionally guest blog.

It proves beyond a doubt that I am a synthetic rather than a linear creature, I tell you what. trying to wrestle that pattern of thoughts into something like an argument essay was not my easiest trick.
bear by san

(post) human

It's ten thirty at night, but there's still a fair stream of traffic. The night's grown chill, and the wind from the open passenger side window is cold on my neck. I palm the gearshift; the speed limit's fifty, the traffic is moving at sixty-five, and this part of the highway is two lanes each side with a metal guard rail between. There are no lights but the headlights.

I've got the music cranked. Atonal, loud, heavy beat. Shriekback. "The Bastard Sons of Enoch."  The Devil said Caine I think this will fly. The driving requires concentration, focus, but it's a pleasant sort of focus, and while we're going fast--the night whipping past, streetlights now and exit signs--this is well within the safe capabilities of my seventeen-year-old five-speed Chevy.

Cement truck in the slow lane drifting on the curve. Dump the clutch and floor it; we skitter past at seventy and I laugh. Take my foot off the gas, upshift, glide it out until there's running room on either side.

Some asshole in a beamer decides to tailgate; I could move over but the lane I'm in forks in about a half mile and one fork is my exit.

I don't feel much guilt over ruining his night.

The lane forks. He tears past me. I downshift for the offramp and the flyover, the little truck kicking as it drops into fourth. We glide up and over--these ramps are deathtraps where there's ice, but it's a gorgeous August night, dry and cool. No worries.

Bitch of a merge, check the mirrors, hit the blinker, stamp on it and go. One eye on the rear view, one eye on the side mirror, one eye on the road ahead, both feet, both hands, check the blind spot, now. Lane change, hesitate, lane change, upshift! Wheee.

Into the canyons of the Yankee Expressway. Tunnel shit look at that guy in the Hyundai bend light! accelerate, lane change, decelerate, rough pavement, merge if you're gonna buddy, downshift, flyover, downshift now we all prefer and don't you agree a mechanical kind of ecstacy light, first gear, sirens on the cross street, wait right there, come off the clutch, one more hill, don't run in front of me you drunken bastard, right turn, left turn, right turn, home.

Lovely evening for a drive.


To a guy from 1800, I just described a field trip through Hell.
bear by san

I'm blaming autopope for this question.

Since I stayed up too late last night reading Accelerando on DayQuil.

What do you suppose the next economic/social revolution after the information age would be? (Or, if you like the reputation economy (which on some level we've been working on for millennia, but that's a whole 'nother sailing ship) what's the next one after that?)

Discuss.

And if you were a Utopian, how would you get around the Marching Morons problem? (This being the economic burden of the people who don't make it through the revolution with prospects.) What about power sources, ecological impacts, social power dynamics, ideologies colliding? If you want a singularity, how do you pay for it?

(These aren't quibbles with Charlie's worldbuilding, I should say. It's more a testament to his abilities as a futurist that he's got me pondering what I'm pondering. Also, I'm in worldbuilding mode, which means I jam a lot of material into my brain and shuffle it around until a society emerges.)

I have a theory or three, but it's something I'm using in Undertow, and I don't have the implications completely worked out yet--also, I don't want to queer the data, so I'll keep it to myself for now. *g*

(I'm glad I am reading (or re-reading; I've read some of the individual stories before, but not the whole cycle together) this now; along with the Mark Budz books and some other stuff, it's reminding me of a list of things I have to be careful not to rip off from Charlie and Mark. *g*)

Anyway, Charlie is making my brain feel engaged. Which is good, because my intellectual level for the last two days has been sitting in front of the TV watching Mythbusters and Iron Chef America marathons. (Ming Tsai kicked Bobby Flay's ass. I am complete.) And that starts to make me feel pretty sluggish after a while.