In which the author sorts the many ways of being certain about machine consciousness into eight tidy boxes, supplies a flowchart, and neglects to mention which box he is standing in.
In which the author reviews Eugenia Cheng’s Unequal, enjoys the maths more than the politics, notices he finds progressiveness thrilling now, and gets extremely hungry.
In which the author, between jobs and stalling magnificently, builds an AI coach to drill the STAR interview method instead of actually applying for any.
In which an unexpected Christmas gift reveals the quiet delight of a rotating bezel, and the author wonders why such useful timekeeping is dressed up in such macho clothing.