🎲 The Odds of This Happening

I could have come as a Caveman, barefoot in the dirt, stick in my hand, smelling smoke and farts and wet dog. Dead of a toothache, age twenty-three.

I came as a Nerd. Indoors, staring into a thin pane of glass while small, flat rocks the size of fingernails emit perfectly working, well-tested, production-ready software in a week that’s more impressive than whatever I did in my decades-long career.

Fourteen billion years of hydrogen falling downhill, and I happen to show up right when the ball starts auto-rolling uphill: at the dawn of superintelligent AI. It is almost like I chose this birth. “I like computers! Let me be born right when the Macintosh is released, and live to see the most astonishing event in the history of the universe (so far).”

I come alive at the MOMENT when intelligence infects silicon.

1,000,000,000 yag: slime and sunlight.
100,000,000 yag: lizards and teeth.
1,000,000 yag: monkeys with rocks.
10,000 yag: priests and ziggurats.
1,000 yag: monks with books.

NOW

Me, a glass rectangle, and talking sand.