Facebook User Revolt!

Let me be quite clear about this: these are the reasons I deactivated my Facebook account. 

1. I am troubled by Facebook's linkage, indirect or not, to Russia's interference in our presidential election.
2. I dislike Cambridge Analytica's use of my Facebook information to develop political micro-messaging. A politician with enough money to buy this data gains an edge over his opponents. Political campaigns ought to be conducted on a level playing field.
3. Due to its unfiltered nature, social media in general and Facebook in particular have become an ideal platform for the dissemination of alternative facts, half-truths and outright fake news. This is harmful to society, as it weakens trust in the legitimate media. 
4. Engaging in online political debates is sapping my energy and my tranquility. I am appalled to find out the politics of some of my friends -- educated and mature people that I thought I knew. Sometimes I can't resist the urge to set them straight. Then they fire back. I am weary of this conflict. 
5. My final issue is quite personal. I am a man with an active imagination and time on his hands. It was just too tempting to dream up clever posts and post them on Facebook. But that was only the beginning. I would keep checking to see how people reacted to my cleverness.  Then I'd react to their reaction, a vicious circle that can go on indefinitely. This is attention-seeking behavior. I'm embarrassed to say that I was so focused on obtaining the validation of others. It became too much a part of my daily routine, for no useful purpose. 

I realize that this blog is just another form of social media. Is it fair play to condemn Facebook while hoping people will read my blog? Am I saying that all social media is tainted, except for my blog? One could argue that this blog is simply another example of attention-seeking behavior.

I have to stop thinking about this now. It's all too much for me. Too much to bear. 

Killer Robot Weapons Lab

After watching the dreary Terminator: Genysis movie last night, I read a couple of articles (see links below) about the controversy surrounding "autonomous artificial intelligence weapons." These hypothetical weapons could be available soon, if those articles can be believed.

Photo courtesy of
The Doctor Who Experience.

In crude terms, these could be "killer robots" that seek and destroy without meaningful human control. Steven Hawking, Elon Musk and Steve Wozniak warned against the danger of developing such weapons several years ago. Back then, these noted geniuses believed the technology to deploy armed robotic "quadcopters" (such as those in the Terminator movie franchise) was only a few years away.

That was in 2015. It is now 2018.

If my arithmetic is correct, killer robots may be coming for us any old time now. How would you like to wake up in the middle of the night and find an autonomous artificial intelligence weapon rolling through your bedroom door, flashing and beeping and waving mechanical arms and squawking "Exterminate -- exterminate --" in a harsh electronic voice like a Dalek in a Doctor Who episode?

Let's work together, as Canned Heat counselled in their 1970 hit song. Team up with misfits, weirdos and hopheads. Hide out in cabins in the mountains. Get off the grid in shacks in the desert. Fight back against Daleks, robotic quadcopters or whatever the hell they are. Together we will stand, every boy, girl, woman and man, as ol' Bob "The Bear" Hite counselled nearly 50 years ago.

References

Canned Heat. Let's Work Together. YouTube video.

McLean, Asha. Researchers boycott Korean university over killer robot weapons lab. ZDNet. April 5, 2018.

Shalal, Andrea. Researchers to boycott South Korean university over weapons work. Reuters. April 4, 2018.

Anxiety-Wracked Dream

It’s always a mistake to write about your dreams. But as my readers (if there are any) know, I have never let that stop me in the past.  Anyone patient enough to read this lengthy account of last night's dream will be richly rewarded. It provides key insights into my past, my personality, and my unresolved neuroses. 

In this dream, which falls into the “back-to-school” category, I was confused and disorganized on the first day of school. I couldn’t figure out the names of the classes, or where the classrooms were. 

More than once, I told myself: “I have to get organized…ask someone for my schedule…figure this out…” But there was no time for any of that.  It was always time to move on to the next class.  I’ll do it on my lunch break, I decided.

Deciding to just go with the flow, I began taking notes. No luck there, because the lecture was moving too quickly. My pen didn’t work. Glancing down, I saw that my notes were all illegible scribbling. 

Doubts nagged at me, and paranoid suspicion too. Had the registrar perversely given me someone else's schedule? The classes were just too weird, tackling obscure fringe topics in an eclectic mixture of disciplines I couldn't pin down. A smiling female professor lectured while lying on the floor amidst a pile of pillows. Everyone else thought this was normal.  

Struggling to bring order to my confusion, I asked the person next to me: what class are we in? I also asked the faculty some pointed questions, such as: What is your name? How is this class going to benefit me? I couldn’t get clear answers.  

Then I asked a brusque professor: which department teaches this class? "History," he barked. I found myself trotting along beside this professor,  babbling “I love history. Always have. I wanna become a historian.” He gave me a sidelong glance and walked briskly away. Perhaps I’d been given at least one class I requested, I thought glumly. 

Finally, a pretty girl smiled at me and said “I’m so glad you’re going to be with us here at Columbia.” I marveled: I am a student at Columbia University. How did that happen?

Further Reading

Freud, Sigmund. The Interpretation of Dreams. Franz Deuticke, Leipzig and Vienna. 1899.