Replying to @⁨eicker@lemmy.world⁩

Interestingly the website menu only links to Privacy page, while the link to the actual privacy policy is in the bottom of the page.

I skimmed through it, haven’t found anything terrible, or any inconsistencies between Privacy and Privacy Policies. But maybe someone has a sharper eye than I do on privacy policies.

Also, I wonder what model is it under the hood. Truth Social was found out to be an illegal fork of Mastodon, so maybe this America AI was some open-weights model too?

Replying to @⁨andrewrgross@slrpnk.net⁩

Conversation between two beings that gets shown after you beat the game, implying that beating it put you on some higher level of existence making you able to hear them minecraft.wiki/w/End_Poem#Contents

I see the player you mean.

PLAYERNAME?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

That doesn’t matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

What did this player dream?

…

Replying to @⁨andrewrgross@slrpnk.net⁩

The only narrative text in the game is at the end credits. It’s long but here it is. The LLM is actually just making a federal government take on it, which is actually kinda funny.

——————————————————

I see the player you mean.

PLAYERNAME?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

That doesn’t matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

What did this player dream?

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].

It cannot read that thought.

No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

It reads our thoughts.

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

And yet they play the game.

But it would be so easy to tell them…

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

I will not tell the player how to live.

The player is growing restless.

I will tell the player a story.

But not the truth.

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.

Give it a body, again.

Yes. Player…

Use its name.

PLAYERNAME. Player of games.

Good.

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn’t you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a player.

The player was you, PLAYERNAME.

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

Let’s go back.

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother’s body, into the long dream.

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

Let’s go further back.

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player’s body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by…

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks “electrons” and “protons”.

Sometimes it called them “planets” and “stars”.

Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.

You are the player, reading words…

Shush… Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive

You. You. You are alive.

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player’s eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.

You are the player.

Wake up.

Replying to @⁨weps@lemmy.world⁩

Nah I tried, the bot is super limited. It gives correct links and references, but gets stuck in a loop a lot. It states all Epstein files have been released with the legally required redactions made, with a link. It states members of congress can view unredacted files, except in cases where the documents were already redacted by the FBI prior to release. It also stated the FBI made a statement no current investigations into any person related to the Epstein files was ongoing and no further indictments were planned. It linked all of this, including that statement from the FBI made in 2025.

If you push further or try to get anything out of it, it just says it can’t and repeats the same information again. So as far as the bot and the FBI is concerned, the whole Epstein thing is wrapped up. Thousands of victims, tons of data collected, but it was all Epstein and Maxwell in isolation. Epstein is dead, Maxwell convicted, case closed. This makes no sense, but if you ask the bot how this can be, it states it can’t express opinions and just repeats the same spiel again.

Replying to @⁨eicker@lemmy.world⁩

It’s not too bad honestly. It wouldn’t tell me how to center a div, which it stated was out of the scope of its purpose.

I asked it a citizenship question and it did a good job linking resources to find that question, which is honestly an issue with our current government websites.

The best feature seems to be that it will just tell you it doesn’t know instead of making up some bullshit.

Not something I would call “Super Intelligent”, but good enough for the purpose it was given.

Replying to @⁨tetris11@feddit.uk⁩

My guess is we will see some less convenient models, that gives better result but a “weird” way ; and far more very convenient models, easy to use, but that generate advertisings as a result (maybe even with promo codes!)…

Remember how internet search have evolved, how youtube has became, how everything went when finance guys decided it was time for harvest…

Now look at this new field, see how they grow it… what are the odds their plan is to harvest it at some point?

Replying to @⁨EatMyPixelDust@lemmy.blahaj.zone⁩

I’m not sure if there is some subtext being lost, but if your point is that we should trust AI with how to ‘save us’, then why aren’t you following it right now? It’s perfectly happy to offer an answer and it will even sound very convincing. But there is no reason to think it actually has the correct answer, or even knows what the problem is.

Replying to @⁨NotAnOtter@lemmus.org⁩

No, my point is that even if the AI was 100% correct and gave humanity the best advice to solve all of our problems, we still wouldn’t follow it. Because we don’t want to. We live in a society that’s broken on purpose, and a lot of people want to keep it that way, and have convinced a great many people to support things against humanity’s own interest.

Replying to @⁨EatMyPixelDust@lemmy.blahaj.zone⁩

If an AI was provably 100% correct then I guarantee you people would listen to it.

People seek for god & other higher powers for much less reasonable logic than “a machine that is always correct no matter what”.

The reality is AI as it’s known today (generative stochastic models) can not ever reach “100% correct”, by definition of being a generative stochastic model. So you’re essentially discussing a fantasy computer that we are not close to every having IRL -> It’s not relevant.

Replying to @⁨eicker@lemmy.world⁩

Q: What policies for work, health and environment help the most people and promotes a high quality of life index and freedom to try new work or care for loved ones, and why don’t they result in everyone quitting work? Is there enough wealth in the world to avoid artificial scarcity?

I can help with official U.S. government services, benefits, and how-to information. I do not provide political commentary or economic analysis of policy choices.

Lol fail

Replying to @⁨eicker@lemmy.world⁩

It disagreeing with him across a wide variety of issues is how you know it’s at least passably intelligent.

I figure it’s like Grok, if it’s not just actually Grok with a skin - Grok’s system instructions tell it to be neutral and fact-seeking without political bias but also to adopt certain right wing positions that aren’t. It’s why it keeps wavering between telling every eight winger that they’re an idiot and becoming Mecha-hitler - it can’t follow two contradictory goals so it prioritizes one and which one drifts.

Replying to @⁨A_Random_Idiot@lemmy.world⁩

The problem for them is that to make a Large Language Model, is it needs to consume a large amount of language. Meaning, to get even a semblance of basic functionality - literally putting together a grammatically correct sentence - means it will need to consume many orders of magnitude more language examples than their right-wing bullshit mill has ever produced. It could consume the entirety of Fox News’ catalogue and not reach even a fraction of what most LLM models have been trained on.

It’s currently impossible for an LLM to exist without having been trained on an absolute assload of progressive literature.