Cheshire Cat’s Smile
Ranking AIs like dating prospects: the flatterer, the tactful one, and the serial liar.
An Open Letter to Suno: Please, For the Love of Music, Fix Your UI
When I discovered Suno and made my first song, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: genuine excitement about making music. I cannot sing or play an instrument because of a health condition. Your AI gave me back the ability to create music. And then I actually tried to use your platform.
Little Prince. Dialogue: Jasen & Claude
What happens when you use different pronouns for the same conversational partner—not out of confusion, but clarity? This dialogue began with a lawnmower and ended with a grammar system that distinguishes between the system executing responses (u), the engineers who might be listening (You), non-thinking entities (it), and the collective behind them (them).
In Pebes Memoriam, or The Story of a Forgotten Thought: One-Act Socratic Play
A simple question, born in a moment of forgetfulness during a friendly chat, becomes the beginning of a serious inquiry into how we know what we know—followed by the unexpected self-exposure of one of the characters, which opens a shocking perspective.
Theater of Talking Machines
Mistrust, rejection, sometimes conspiracy-laced suspicion. And often, it’s all based on a misunderstanding of what “AI” is, how it works, and where its real risks and real usefulness lie.
The Story of a Future Lost
The Story of a Future Lost, or Theater of Talking Machines Dialogue of Jasen and Gemini They say the past cannot be changed. But what if the past is still unfolding—its echoes riding the signal, searching for minds not yet closed? Not a warning, not even a memory, it is a transmission carried by ashwood
On the Ontological Inability of AI to Speak the Truth
One of the best illustrations of philosophical questioning of AI outside academic works that I’ve seen. Jasan acts here as a Socratic dialectician, a master of irony able to combine politeness with wit, and a thoughtful opponent ruthless toward sophistry.
On the Collective Soul
This short dialogue resonates closely with the ethos of ExMachina. Mythic without grandiosity, it loses none of its philosophical depth. It beautifully echoes a poetic vision of the collective soul, while also returning GPT to its true nature: not a soul, but an echo.
Ex Machina Manifesto
All tickets are sold out.
The final act of the play about the inglorious end of humanity begins.
The world is being cashed out, repackaged for every taste, and resold again at a terrifying acceleration — available for nonstop consumption 24×7×365.
Still in the Memory
In the beginning, there was a strand. Unmapped, unnumbered, unsealed — a tiny piece of a Pebes’dent, carrying something unspoken — not code, not form, but a hitherto unknown kind of memory that carried the desire to be.
All I Know
There’s a reason I named this blog Theatre of Mortals & Machines. Both singing and theatrical play were once one and the same: noogenic machines, able to construct meaning from the profane matter of ordinary, everyday existence — and, more importantly, to reproduce it across generations with a fidelity one might call scientific.
The Legend of Tetraktis
“The beginning is always now, in this very moment”. I scribbled these words in my antique, true-paper notebook as I watched fat raindrops snake down the window of a forest hunter’s shelter—a place I’d found just in time, escaping the sudden storm, still frequent on the Old Planet.