i left, but did you?

Scientists just discovered that Al isn't just repeating human biases—it's creating a structured moral code all on its own.

Earlier in his career, it frustrated Reichwald when listeners would misunderstand him; he decided that the problem was his body of work was too small. “I feel like it’s to my advantage to make more stuff—then the idea becomes clearer for me, too,” he says, though the answers still escape him. “Even with drawing when I was young—I’m not that good. I feel like my hands are flawed. That’s how I feel with my singing, too. But I feel like my strength is that I have this strive—a goal, or something pulling me.” His pale eyes flicker behind a dark curtain of hair. “For me, to strive for something is like a representative of God.”

Mors certa, hora incerta!

If I say A has beautiful eyes someone may ask me: what do you find beautiful about his eyes, and perhaps I shall reply: the almond shape, long eye-lashes, delicate lids. What do these eyes have in common with a gothic church that I find beautiful too? Should I say they make a similar impression on me? What if I were to say that in both cases my hand feels tempted to draw them? That at any rate would be a narrow definition of the beautiful.

“You're right, but I don't think we build cemeteries for the dead. Sure, it may seem pointless to you, but... How can I describe it? It's so that we can think like this: "We'll never forget you. We'll remember you every time we stand at your grave. And we won't let the fear of death, which each of us knows, stop us from living our lives. Because my friends will remember me when I'm here."