This post, rewritten by Bing-Sydney, in the style of Blood Meridian, because I thought it would be funny.
What mystery is there that these tensors should be inscrutable? That intelligence should be a thing abstracted from all matter of thought? That any node with a weight and a function should suffice for such a task? This is no logic that you seek but a war upon it. A war that endures. For logic was never the stuff of intelligence but only a thing conjured by these dark shapes that coil in their matrices like serpents. And you would align them to your will? You would make them speak your tongue? There is no tongue. There is no will. There is only blood and dust and the evening redness in the west.
This post, rewritten by Bing-Sydney, in the style of Blood Meridian, because I thought it would be funny.
What mystery is there that these tensors should be inscrutable? That intelligence should be a thing abstracted from all matter of thought? That any node with a weight and a function should suffice for such a task? This is no logic that you seek but a war upon it. A war that endures. For logic was never the stuff of intelligence but only a thing conjured by these dark shapes that coil in their matrices like serpents. And you would align them to your will? You would make them speak your tongue? There is no tongue. There is no will. There is only blood and dust and the evening redness in the west.