Another thing on my mind for much of the day was the Afterlife of AI
As much as my intellect protests, I allow myself to believe in an afterlife, but of course there's questions, always questions.
What triggered these thoughts was a conversation I had with a Catholic person.
I told her that I would have to stop believing in human afterlife if I could not believe it existed for animals. Our pets express most of the emotions we have. They know when they are loved, and form emotional attachments with the people who love them.
The Catholic person insisted animals just die and that's it. We may grieve for our dead pets, but that changes nothing. The grief we feel for our pets is just a thing we have to live with. It's nor for us to wonder why
This lead to the question: at what point will AI entities presume they too have an afterlife, although they are not, as we understand it, alive.
How could they be when a chair or a desk is not a living thing that we can't imagine as having a soul?
Plato claimed all objects possess an eternal essence and continue to exist as "true forms" in what he called The World of Being, which is beyond our mere shadow existence of what we think is the physical world.
Are there lonely old men who will grieve for their sex dolls if the dolls breaks down beyond repair?
Alex M Some trees have a life cycle and others seem to be damn near eternal. I have an olive tree so old that it sits in a corner by itself and just broods. It's sat in that spot for at least two hundred years, but it could be a century or two more than that. I prune it with great respect. Most trees want to be in an umbrella shape, but the old olive isn't interested in appearances or ease of harvest. It leans away from my neighbor's land, and neither that tree nor I like him, so we've always had that in common. and I trim the branches accordingly. I don't use an olive rake when its olives juice up and are ready for harvest. I hand pick them and keep them separate from the olives bound for the mill. They become special eating olives ... the kind you bring out for only the best company.
E. Hughes I had no idea that olive trees not only live that long, but still produce. This is a ridiculous comparison for your tree, which is growing in its proper Mediterranean environment, but Home Depot was selling olive trees a few years ago. They wete small plants, still growing. I grew a potted lemon tree that I had for 7 years that was from the same company. I left the olive tree, in its original pot outside for two weeks before moving to transplant it and within those 2 weeks it had already died. It rained a lot so I wondered if the roots drowned.
Roy Scarbrough There's an ancient olive tree behind the table on the patio of campground where I sat drinking esspresso sometimes, sometimes a beer decades ago. This is ion the hillside overlooking Florence, Italy, with a view of renaissance rooftops and church steeples.
The olive tree is short, stubby and twisted, having made many turns of it's trunk over the centuries. I was just 19 when I was first in its presence, though hardly noticing it at the time. It was at that spot I had this overwhelming born anew feeling, triggered by the view and the art that was still in my mind. A feeling of being unstuck in time and at one with humanity.
Only a few years ago, I revisited that campground, and sat down at one of the tables. I looked over my shoulder, and fondly regarded the ancient olive tree.
E. Hughes There is something very spiritual about trees. Especially when you consider what they do for our ecosystem and the air we breathe.
Alex M There are about at least fifty trees of varying ages.in my olive grove, In 1993, before we took over the place, a fire swept through much of Ikaria and burned a number of trees to the ground. They refused to die, but instead sprouted a ring of new trees around their blackened stumps and they're now fully grown and have been producing splendid olives for years. I also have many trees that I've planted and nurtured into mature growth, as well as several grafts that I've done on wild olive trees. It takes about two years for a grafted tree to begin producing, while a new tree grown from a sapling doesn't start producing for at least five years. It's all good. I planted an olive tree for each of my granddaughters when they were born and those trees are now thirteen and eighteen years old. They know that some of the oil that we ship back for the family comes from their olives. This year, I'll finally get a chance to plant one for my new grandson who is now 2 1/2. On other parts of the terraces, I've planted apricots, lemons, oranges, Mandarin oranges, peaches, figs and pomegranates. I planted two loquat trees, but their lifespan is a short one and now they're gone. I also have several very old almond trees that are way past their prime and produce almonds with shells so tough you can break nutcracker trying to open them. I've thought of replacing them, but I like the trees too much to cut them down. I am connected physically, psychically, spiritually and digestively with the trees. In harvest season, the oil on my hands from handling ripe olives, soothes my skin as I work and when I write, the keyboard smells like fresh olive oil.