By Edo Segal
I remember the exact moment I stopped breathing.
Not literally — though Deleuze would appreciate the resonance, given how his own lungs betrayed him. I mean the moment I watched Claude write a piece of software I'd been turning over in my head for weeks, and it did it in ninety seconds, and it was better than what I would have built, and I felt simultaneously omnipotent and obsolete. That airless moment. That gap where you're supposed to feel something — triumph or terror — and instead you feel both, pressed together so tightly they become a third thing you don't have a name for.
I went looking for the name. I found it in three pages written by a dying philosopher in 1990.
Deleuze couldn't
A reading-companion catalog of the 19 Orange Pill Wiki entries linked from this book — the people, ideas, works, and events that Gilles Deleuze — On AI uses as stepping stones for thinking through the AI revolution.
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