I sit in front of this computer - more processing power than NASA had to land men on the moon - and wonder that I can't find some awesome use for it, write some amazing AI code.
Then I realise that all it does, all it's ever done, is just flip gargantuan numbers of bits from one to zero and back again, in some monstrous pattern.
All else is human interpretation.
I sit and reflect on my brain: zillions of neurons and synapses. Couldn't I be doing more with it?
Then I realise that - locked away in my skull beneath all that bone - all it's doing, all it's ever done, is cycle through an endless cascade of nerve impulses, in some monstrous pattern
All else is just interpretation.
I'm channelling Scott Bakker (cf. Neuropath from one year ago).