The short story accused of violating the national security law, “Our Time,” is set in a dystopian 2050. It tells of an authoritarian future in which vast swaths of Hong Kong history have been erased from both the city’s structures and the public consciousness, and all aspects of life are subsumed under the Chinese Communist Party.
I’m not sure this is science fiction. Seems more like reality.
Every political entity wants power. When people resist being controlled, and they use a dialect or another form of the “official” language, those in charge try to eliminate the language of resistance.
When people write about a dystopian future in which they have no right to their own language, customs, ways of thinking and behaving, and political representation — and those in charge respond by banning the fiction — it really only shows the reality. And the reality is this:
Those in charge have small, frail, male egos that need constant stroking. Poor frail eggshell minds.
Language is power, because language is identity. Those in charge are always afraid of losing control over all three. And whenever they respond this way, they always get exactly the opposite of what they want.
The lecture about Irish folk songs [note: at the time, I was in the Gaeltacht, west of Galway, learning Irish language] last night, two nights ago, whichever (time has no meaning in this place), was wrong. Why do we write, the léachtóir asked; to communicate; the poet wants to communicate.
No.
That is not why I write. Sometimes I write for fun, to play at words, to play with feelings. Sometimes I try to work out my problems myself in writing (I can’t). Sometimes I write just to relieve tension. Sometimes I write because I have to, because if I don’t get these words out of me and onto paper they’ll rip their way out.
All artificial intelligence, all robots and Chatbots and everything else electronically-programmed by a human being, will inevitably have human bias.
Even women prefer women’s voices to men’s when it comes to customer service.
On the other hand, women are also historically relegated to work with lower pay, lower status, kept out of positions of power — subject to the “male gaze.”
Now, we have AI that can be treated as sex objects. Even “married.”
So it is all “sinister,” as BBC asks?
Creepy, maybe. Sad, perhaps. Entirely predictable, definitely.
As we continue to lead more and more isolated individual lives, cut off from human contact and left unable to socialize, the rise of the “AI companion” seems inevitable…
Today I talked to virtually no one for the first time in quite a while. It’s almost like meditation. Reminds me of what L said when we were out drinking Friday night (as usual). She and G were talking about scuba diving, about how being underwater hearing only your own breath and hardly being able to see anything unless it’s right in front of you gives you a feeling of being alone in the universe, a feeling of vulnerability and isolation, of insignificance. I commented, “That’s just like meditation.” No reaction.
I don’t need to go scuba diving in the Philippines to experience such a feeling.
ESA image. Gateway is planned to be much smaller and more cramped than ISS (about 1/6 the size).
NASA and its international partners see Gateway as a key platform to support the agency’s Artemis moon program and to build the technology required for future deep-space missions. Although the first elements of the small space station are expected to launch before the Artemis 3 mission lifts off in 2025 or 2026, NASA previously said that those astronauts will not use Gateway to “make that mission have a higher probability of success.”
While it’s a good idea to see some planning for this, I think maybe NASA should focus on getting Artemis 1 to work properly before they go on about Artemis 3 and 4.
Taking advantage of Gateway’s orbit far away from Earth’s protective magnetic field, three instruments will study risks due to radiation from the sun and from cosmic rays. Scientists hope this knowledge can help inform future long-term missions to the moon and Mars.
Since Gateway will orbit the Moon and not the Earth, the biggest problem will be preventing astronauts (and instruments!) from getting fried by solar radiation. Scientists need to come up with materials to shield people on Gateway and the Moon, or else we’re going nowhere…
For all these technological “advances,” we are no better than the ancients. We are still prisoners to our emotions — or to the biological impulses of electricity and hormones whose results we deem emotive.
One main reason for landing at the Moon’s South Pole is that the presence of water would help us build permanent settlements…
This region on the moon is an attractive place for humans to build a lasting presence due to the fact that water ice is located underfoot. Future moon-dwellers can potentially tap into that water for consumption, or even to create rocket propellant, instead of depending on water shipped from Earth.
Another reason has now been found…iron, manganese, aluminum, titanium…and “surprisingly” sulfur. Why should they be surprised? It’s already been established that the Moon has ice, and sulfur forms every time hydrocarbon and sulfates combine. Plus sulfur obviously results from volcanic activity, and it’s likely the Moon was volcanic when it first formed. And sulfur is also produced through nuclear fusion – i.e., the Sun.
So what can we do with this knowledge?
Having a more complete chemical composition of the lunar south pole area means future travelers to — and possible inhabitants of — the region can also plan for what else they don’t need to bring from Earth. In particular, some scientists have suggested moon-dwellers could use sulfur in bits of infrastructure such as building materials, solar cells and batteries.
Hmmm…I think more studies are needed first…define “bits,” for example.
My legs, especially my left calf, still ache from Hua Shang. That experience alone justifies my whole trip. I walked 6 km starting at about 1pm. Stopping only once for maybe 15-20 minutes for a Sprite and a flashlight, I reached the North Peak (Bei Feng) at a little after 5. I really should have continued to the South Peak (the highest at 2160m), but at just before a particularly treacherous climb, a stranger offered to take my picture. He did this twice later; he then asked me where I was going, so because I told him North Peak, he led me to the North Peak Hotel. I signed into an expensive room, thinking a locked door proof against bag theft — but unnecessarily, as there were no other guests at all! I got a TV, a washbasin (no running water) and access to outdoor lavatories (Must have been the “private bath” the guidebook lied about). Public toilets basically meant an open outhouse shitting down the rock face — so much for sacred mountain vibes.
I slept and, waking at 4 am, set off to climb the Blue Dragon. Only then did I know why one traditionally climbed the mountain at night: to conquer fear. Once I began, I could not return. Grasping the iron-link chain with one hand and flashlight with the other, all I could see were tiny, steep steps underfoot and clear stars overhead. Most stairs were about 60º, but several inclined more, and at least one near the beginning of the Blue Dragon was almost vertical, certainly 80º. At the very end, just before the sunrise viewing point, was the actual peak (2100m). From atop an enormous boulder crowned with pine trees and a lone camp light came the voices of two crazy park workers, exhorting all to brave the true East Peak. A guide at the bottom told me to be careful before I attempted to climb the rock. But as I realized the steps were actually more than 90º, and that my pack was pulling me backward as I yanked myself up on the chains, I gave up and went down again after about 10 feet.
When I returned after watching daybreak, I looked down at the Dragon and could only marvel at my audacity; I had come alone at night, scared half out of my wits, with heavy packpack and asthma and glasses and only 1 free hand, and I had climbed steps narrower than the width of my foot. With sheer rock cliffs on both sides and only a single metal chain between me and a quickly plummeting death. I did it. I have nothing left to fear.
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