To my great astonishment and comparable amusement, a lecturer of mine recently announced that computers will become smarter than human beings. Her explanation was that the smartest brains create and build computers, and computers will learn from them and grow smarter. Computers trumping humans at chess was cited as a forerunner to a future when computers will outwit the wise man. The Matrix was thrown in the fray too.
The setting probably did not allow her to elaborate on her line of reasoning, and so the apparent fallacies (she has taken to using the word a lot). But I was piqued anyway about the inherent assumptions. Came online, and Wikipedia led me to the Chinese room, which I think was hinted at at an informal lab intro to computing years ago.
The same lecturer, when broaching the freemium model on another day, urged us to make a donation to Wikipedia, if we could afford to. Just saying.
On a disparate note, isn't it funny how 'Google is your friend, {fucktard}' became 'Google is my friend, we're chummy, lol, and I am so proud of it'.
You can't ask an acquaintance if he had a good childhood. It's too personal — and a potential can of worms. But we're naturally curious, looking for clues about the situations that our friends come from. This interest comes out in questions like "What do your parents do?" "Are you close with your family?" "Have you been home recently?" and even the straightforward "Where are you from?"
But what does a "good childhood" mean anyway? Most upbringings are complicated; mixed bags. Most parents try their best, and all make mistakes.
Descriptions, whether words or images, of the physical spaces of our formative years hint at the relationships within. If these walls could talk, they'd tell tales long forgotten.
Recently, I went to the karaoke lounge with some new and old friends for just the second time in my life.
I thought the night would end without me singing a song. Somehow a mike found its way into my hand and I sung a track, liked it, and unleashed my now-cracked vocals on teesny bits of songs (each attempt ended with me helplessly passing the mike on).
I decided when I left that, yes, karaoke is fun :) At home my parents took turns asking me about my first karaoke attempt. (as any concerned parent would, no?) They were curious about the First Song.
Yesterday, the topic came up again. My father whipped out his iPhone, looked for the song on YouTube, and played it in the living room. My mother ran a mini commentary of the song while watching her drama serial. Her: 'Rock undertones, hmmm. Yeah yeah yeah~ You could reach those notes???'
The first time I went to a karaoke lounge was in Pahang, Malaysia with family and family friends. Everyone had fun, the old folks hogged the airtime and I flatly refused to sing. I still had fun, but my parents were a little disappointed to not have heard me sing.
