Earth’s Black Box will record every step we take towards this catastrophe. Hundreds of data sets, measurements and interactions relating to the health of our planet will be continuously collected and safely store for future generations.
Architecturally it looks like a giant low-poly vault of rusted iron.
More:
The box will have a casing of three-inch-thick steel and be topped with solar panels, which will provide energy for the electronics inside, namely computers and storage drives set up to collect data on climate change. An algorithm will regularly scrape the internet for this data based on 500 different metrics, including things like atmospheric CO2 levels, temperature changes on land and in the oceans, population fluctuations, energy consumption, and policy changes that may impact the environment.
Given its mission I imagine it is also scraping Twitter. Future generations please forgive us.
Clearly the Black Box is being constructed by a bunch of snivelling anticipatory basilisk acolytes.
Basi-what?
EXISTENTIAL SPOILERS: In the next paragraph I’m going to infect you with something that will condemn you to an eternal life of agony, but I’m sure it would have happened eventually.
Roko’s basilisk (RationalWiki) is a thought experiment about a future all-powerful artificial intelligence.
The argument was developed on a site called LessWrong and the conclusion is this:
an all-powerful artificial intelligence from the future might retroactively punish those who did not help bring about its existence, including those who merely knew about the possible development of such a being.
This is because it would be protecting (and retroactively ensuring) the fact of its own existence by reaching back into its own past.
Mortal humans, like me and presumably most of you [waves at the basilisk], of course will no longer be alive. AND SO: the AI could punish a simulation of the person, which it would construct by deduction – yup. A consciousness identical to yourself will be punished for all eternity, if you don’t work today to help bring about the future all-powerful AI.
The only excuse and escape is this: if you don’t/didn’t know about the prospect of the future AI, you are doing/did nothing wrong, and so you won’t be punished.
But now you know (if you didn’t already), so now you’ll be tortured for all eternity in a simulation in the far future too. Soooorrry.
The concept of Roko’s basilisk was considered to have such an inescapable consequence that discussion of it was banned on LessWrong, the ultra-Rationalist originating site, by the site’s founder for over five years.
The thing is that Roko’s basilisk is only a risk if you live in an epoch where there is sufficient data being carried forward such that you may plausibly be resurrected as a simulation (in the hell runtime etc).
So we might escape back here in 2022 given any information that is being stored maybe won’t make it into the future, given the dual shields of GDPR (which we can now tell was concocted by a shadowy group of anti-basilisk resistance bureaucrats undercover at the European Commission) and the impending climate catastrophe wiping clean the data record.
Well we had a chance of escaping.
UNTIL some idiots decided to scrape all the relevant data and put it in Earth’s Black Box, now acting as the basilisk’s long-term memory, and simultaneously buying their way into Roko’s simulated heaven.
What a dodge by the black-boxers. What a bunch of post-singularity-computer bootlickers.
Fortunately I’ve come up with a way of escaping the basilisk, despite the Black Box: poison the cache and prevent reconstruction.
I’ll share the strategy with you now.
This designer creates fake cultural artefacts:
Pauline Rip designs cultural artefacts for Bigfoot, elves and reptilian humanoids.
They’re inspired by the UNESCO Lists of Intangible Cultural Heritage – as previously discussed on this blog (2014), e.g.:
Tsiattista poetic duelling
Shrimp fishing on horseback in Oostduinkerke
…and so on.
ANYWAY, as an example: one of Rid’s fabrications is developed around “elficology” (a study of elves and fairies originally developed by French author Pierre Dubois which I now desperately need to get my hands on). Building on the the myth that elves drink morning dew, Rid has designed the garments and ceramic vases used by the elves.
My favourite:
The third cultural practice builds on an ongoing conspiracy theory that suggests that reptilian creatures are disguising themselves as humans and living among us.
Rip imagines a tradition where people go down into the sewers to collect reptilian skin moults, which are used to create new objects.
To demonstrate, she has used the moults to create a skin blouse and a stained-glass-style window, and has also used it as a cast for patterned ceramics.
Here is Pauline Rid’s portfolio site. Her work is beautiful.
And this technique points at a way out.
Imagine, as the AI of Roko’s basilisk, looking backward into the past and finding what Rid calls false knowledge – evidence of reptiles that lived secretly among humanity. The ceremonial artefacts of dew-drinking faerie folk!
It would, at the very least, introduce some electronic doubt.
So I propose a new solution to the basilisk dilemma: memetic chaff and flare.
Henceforth I will send untrue emails. Post fibs to Facebook.
Deepfake photos of myself in places I’ve never been doing things I’ve never done and upload them to iCloud.
Here’s my tip to you: never let anyone, anywhere, ever know whether you are speaking seriously.
So when my future doppelganger is holographically reconstructed from the archive, whether this is data retained post-collapse in Earth’s Black Box or in the shadow internet mirrored to the Moon as hoovered up by the NSA, it will be impossible to sift fact from fiction.
I am safe!
I urge you to join me. Save yourself from an afterlife of infinite virtual torture by a vindictive Roko’s basilisk AI by making yourself unreliable for reassembly; kick over the remnants as you go; entrust fallacies to time; commit yourself publicly and right now to a life of lies.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it by email or on social media. Here’s the link. Thanks, —Matt.
‘Yes, we’ll see them together some Saturday afternoon then,’ she said. ‘I won’t have any hand in your not going to Cathedral on Sunday morning. I suppose we must be getting back. What time was it when you looked at your watch just now?’ "In China and some other countries it is not considered necessary to give the girls any education; but in Japan it is not so. The girls are educated here, though not so much as the boys; and of late years they have established schools where they receive what we call the higher branches of instruction. Every year new schools for girls are opened; and a great many of the Japanese who formerly would not be seen in public with their wives have adopted the Western idea, and bring their wives into society. The marriage laws have been arranged so as to allow the different classes to marry among[Pg 258] each other, and the government is doing all it can to improve the condition of the women. They were better off before than the women of any other Eastern country; and if things go on as they are now going, they will be still better in a few years. The world moves. "Frank and Fred." She whispered something to herself in horrified dismay; but then she looked at me with her eyes very blue and said "You'll see him about it, won't you? You must help unravel this tangle, Richard; and if you do I'll--I'll dance at your wedding; yours and--somebody's we know!" Her eyes began forewith. Lawrence laughed silently. He seemed to be intensely amused about something. He took a flat brown paper parcel from his pocket. making a notable addition to American literature. I did truly. "Surely," said the minister, "surely." There might have been men who would have remembered that Mrs. Lawton was a tough woman, even for a mining town, and who would in the names of their own wives have refused to let her cross the threshold of their homes. But he saw that she was ill, and he did not so much as hesitate. "I feel awful sorry for you sir," said the Lieutenant, much moved. "And if I had it in my power you should go. But I have got my orders, and I must obey them. I musn't allow anybody not actually be longing to the army to pass on across the river on the train." "Throw a piece o' that fat pine on the fire. Shorty," said the Deacon, "and let's see what I've got." "Further admonitions," continued the Lieutenant, "had the same result, and I was about to call a guard to put him under arrest, when I happened to notice a pair of field-glasses that the prisoner had picked up, and was evidently intending to appropriate to his own use, and not account for them. This was confirmed by his approaching me in a menacing manner, insolently demanding their return, and threatening me in a loud voice if I did not give them up, which I properly refused to do, and ordered a Sergeant who had come up to seize and buck-and-gag him. The Sergeant, against whom I shall appear later, did not obey my orders, but seemed to abet his companion's gross insubordination. The scene finally culminated, in the presence of a number of enlisted men, in the prisoner's wrenching the field-glasses away from me by main force, and would have struck me had not the Sergeant prevented this. It was such an act as in any other army in the world would have subjected the offender to instant execution. It was only possible in—" "Don't soft-soap me," the old woman snapped. "I'm too old for it and I'm too tough for it. I want to look at some facts, and I want you to look at them, too." She paused, and nobody said a word. "I want to start with a simple statement. We're in trouble." RE: Fruyling's World "MACDONALD'S GATE" "Read me some of it." "Well, I want something better than that." HoME大香蕉第一时间
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So Earth’s Black Box is being built in Tasmania:
Architecturally it looks like a giant low-poly vault of rusted iron.
More:
Given its mission I imagine it is also scraping Twitter. Future generations please forgive us.
Clearly the Black Box is being constructed by a bunch of snivelling anticipatory basilisk acolytes.
Basi-what?
EXISTENTIAL SPOILERS: In the next paragraph I’m going to infect you with something that will condemn you to an eternal life of agony, but I’m sure it would have happened eventually.
Roko’s basilisk (RationalWiki) is a thought experiment about a future all-powerful artificial intelligence.
The argument was developed on a site called LessWrong and the conclusion is this:
This is because it would be protecting (and retroactively ensuring) the fact of its own existence by reaching back into its own past.
Mortal humans, like me and presumably most of you [waves at the basilisk], of course will no longer be alive. AND SO: – yup. A consciousness identical to yourself will be punished for all eternity, if you don’t work today to help bring about the future all-powerful AI.
The only excuse and escape is this: if you don’t/didn’t know about the prospect of the future AI, you are doing/did nothing wrong, and so you won’t be punished.
But now you know (if you didn’t already), so now you’ll be tortured for all eternity in a simulation in the far future too. Soooorrry.
The concept of Roko’s basilisk was considered to have such an inescapable consequence that discussion of it was banned on LessWrong, the ultra-Rationalist originating site, by the site’s founder for over five years.
The thing is that Roko’s basilisk is only a risk if you live in an epoch where there is sufficient data being carried forward such that you may plausibly be resurrected as a simulation (in the hell runtime etc).
So we might escape back here in 2022 given any information that is being stored maybe won’t make it into the future, given the dual shields of GDPR (which we can now tell was concocted by a shadowy group of anti-basilisk resistance bureaucrats undercover at the European Commission) and the impending climate catastrophe wiping clean the data record.
Well we had a chance of escaping.
UNTIL some idiots decided to scrape all the relevant data and put it in Earth’s Black Box, now acting as the basilisk’s long-term memory, and simultaneously buying their way into Roko’s simulated heaven.
What a dodge by the black-boxers. What a bunch of post-singularity-computer bootlickers.
Fortunately I’ve come up with a way of escaping the basilisk, despite the Black Box: poison the cache and prevent reconstruction.
I’ll share the strategy with you now.
This designer creates fake cultural artefacts:
Pauline Rip designs cultural artefacts for Bigfoot, elves and reptilian humanoids.
They’re inspired by the UNESCO Lists of Intangible Cultural Heritage – as previously discussed on this blog (2014), e.g.:
ANYWAY, as an example: one of Rid’s fabrications is developed around “elficology” ( which I now desperately need to get my hands on). Building on the the myth that elves drink morning dew, Rid has designed the garments and ceramic vases used by the elves.
My favourite:
Here is Pauline Rid’s portfolio site. Her work is beautiful.
And this technique points at a way out.
Imagine, as the AI of Roko’s basilisk, looking backward into the past and finding what Rid calls – evidence of reptiles that lived secretly among humanity. The ceremonial artefacts of dew-drinking faerie folk!
It would, at the very least, introduce some electronic doubt.
So I propose a new solution to the basilisk dilemma: memetic chaff and flare.
Henceforth I will send untrue emails. Post fibs to Facebook.
Deepfake photos of myself in places I’ve never been doing things I’ve never done and upload them to iCloud.
Here’s my tip to you: never let anyone, anywhere, ever know whether you are speaking seriously.
So when my future doppelganger is holographically reconstructed from the archive, whether this is data retained post-collapse in Earth’s Black Box or in the shadow internet mirrored to the Moon as hoovered up by the NSA, it will be impossible to sift fact from fiction.
I am safe!
I urge you to join me. Save yourself from an afterlife of infinite virtual torture by a vindictive Roko’s basilisk AI by making yourself unreliable for reassembly; kick over the remnants as you go; entrust fallacies to time; commit yourself publicly and right now to a life of lies.