Epstein Secrets

wolves are clept All by the name of dogs. William Shakespeare — Macbeth For most of our species’ history, our

catalogue ye go for men, As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept All by the name of dogs. William Shakespeare — Macbeth For most of our species’ history, our ancestors were barely people. This was not due to any inadequacy in their brains. On the contrary, e

ing a place to begin. New Technologies=New Perceptions Before AI, there was Cybernetics—the idea of automatic, self-regulating control, laid out in Norbert Wiener’s foundational text of 1948. I can date my own serious exposure to it to 1966, when the composer John Cage invited me and four or five other young arts

wolves are clept All by the name of dogs. William Shakespeare — Macbeth For most of our species’ history, our

catalogue ye go for men, As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept All by the name of dogs. William Shakespeare — Macbeth For most of our species’ history, our ancestors were barely people. This was not due to any inadequacy in their brains. On the contrary, e

ing a place to begin. New Technologies=New Perceptions Before AI, there was Cybernetics—the idea of automatic, self-regulating control, laid out in Norbert Wiener’s foundational text of 1948. I can date my own serious exposure to it to 1966, when the composer John Cage invited me and four or five other young arts

ommunity, must say something substantially different from the community’s previous common stock of information.” This was why “schoolboys do not like Shakespeare,” he concluded: The Bard’s couplets may depart starkly from random bitstreams, but they had nonetheless become all too familiar to the sense-making p

agic or mysticism of an earlier age— as by their modern-sounding insights. I detect that same doubleness—the zig-zag origami folds of old and new—in Norbert Wiener’s classic The Human Use of Human Beings. First published in 1950 and revised in 1954, the book is in many ways extraordinarily prescient. Wiener, the M

ommunity, must say something substantially different from the community’s previous common stock of information.” This was why “schoolboys do not like Shakespeare,” he concluded: The Bard’s couplets may depart starkly from random bitstreams, but they had nonetheless become all too familiar to the sense-making p

agic or mysticism of an earlier age— as by their modern-sounding insights. I detect that same doubleness—the zig-zag origami folds of old and new—in Norbert Wiener’s classic The Human Use of Human Beings. First published in 1950 and revised in 1954, the book is in many ways extraordinarily prescient. Wiener, the M