Odyssey

we humans, Prometheus’s creations, controlled fire, Zeus feared we wouldn’t need gods to worship and obey; we could abolish our own creators. Zeus was right. We did. And we are Zeus now. We fear the entities we have created. If a Prometheus amongst us were to give AI consciousness, the divine spark, then humanity could become a mythic memory, an origin story for the machines to tell themselves, while we crumble into broken statuary alongside Zeus and his pantheon before us.

There is scant nutrition to be had from an if.

Different paths spring from different choices for all.

Self-recrimination makes for a dark atmosphere.

Sounds like quite a man, this master of yours. Who is he?” “Quite a man? Yes, he’s quite a man. No … you know what? He’s not a man, Odysseus, he’s men. A son, a father, a husband. Well, that’s not unusual, of course. He’s a king. Wise and fair. Judges and rules with solemn justice. But he’s a builder too. Planned and put together his palace almost single-handed. He’s a sailor. I’ve seen him pull on two sail ropes, one with each foot, steering with his elbow on the tiller, and using his hands to whittle a musical pipe. He can tend the flocks and herds as well as I or any countryman. He’s a warrior. Hand to hand, he wrestles like Theseus. Can throw a man three times his weight. The best bowman you ever saw. Shoots like Apollo. Never saw a swordsman his equal either. He can throw a spear farther than anyone. Speaks the tongues of distant lands as if he were born there. And the wit of him, the cunning … ah …” Eumaeus tapped the side of his head. “In there, he has a mind the equal of Hermes for mischief, and of Athena for wisdom. I don’t know where his ideas come from. He can …