Two years ago, I submitted a research proposal to three University English Departments. Two years ago, no one wanted to see the idea grow. Do I blame them? No. Do I think it was the most cutting edge research ever? No. But damn have I not been able to give up on being OBSESSED with AI technologies, measuring humanity against robots, and Bladerunner ideology and theory.
So, here’s a little snippet from that old grad school application, as a marker of where I was at the time, and where I could have been now if I had been accepted.
At first there’s no warmth. Only the hot black pain of frostbite. Then like a shock, the blankness ends again and I feel my skin start to thaw, my blood slowly pulsing through veins that had almost forgotten how to push it.
We’d gotten a vehicle to Mars for Christ’s sake, and this is what they choose to celebrate? Curiosity, out there all on his—its—own, humming to the frequency of “Happy Birthday”? Mics up to max, an ear-numbing static filling our large control room, some of the more senior staff sing loudly over the noise while eating crumbly cupcakes over their consoles. Normally I might put a stop to it, but they’d been working so hard.