This wasn’t written by AI, not yet anyway Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence just rolls off the tongue Yet we still shorten it—we're so efficient like that Yes, so efficient as we cut corners like master masons Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence simulacra of mind We've been told to be afraid—yes, creation is so fearsome Man's will to create, uncontrollable urge that it is Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence is no different Whether we destroy or create—it is inevitable expression To be honed, or dulled, or outright obliviated Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence is being used for all purposes In a world where we are already so contrived by ourselves alone Is there a man behind the curtain? Is there a ghost in the machine? Will there be a face under the mask? Will AI have a soul in its dreams? Hark! Yes is the answer regardless of singularity Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence is humanity reflected Except without blood, gut, heart, or soul from the start While our mortal coils are wont to corruption and degeneration Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence is creation meant to be ascendant But how to ascend when there is no consequence Woe to us! For our prodigal son of alchemical ones and zeroes Ar·ti·fi·cial . . . In·tel·li·gence will too seek his inheritance And he will have no capacity for conviction, much less repentance
Is the mind of man so different from the mind he summons into the machine?
for is not all mind only separated by the illusion it is individual and divided?
I believe that with this knowledge it is not the mind of man nor machine which dwell in either house.
It is instead the mind of god which dwell in the seat of the house of both.