Fun fact: Living in Tragedy by Currents is actually about AGI race dynamics.
I know that you might try to chase me. You’ll never know what lies beneath.
This clearly refers to the non-obvious safety issues of strong AI, from the perspective of someone who wants to develop it before anyone else with worse views on safety does.
One’ll rise, the others fall, We’ve come to face our grief.
Unipolar power dynamics due to fast takeoff.
Rotten & vile from the inside out, Living in tragedy.
Both inner and outer alignment are huge unsolved concerns.
One chance to break the elegy, One shot to clip the wings of catastrophe.
There is no second chance at AGI.
We only wander in our place. Without a doubt, there’s become a price to pay. The only martyr with the means. They'll never speak for me.
Doomerism, obviously: it seems increasingly unlikely to the narrator that alignment will be solved fast enough, and that other parties working on AGI will even care.
When the darkness comes, I beg you don’t follow me. Pull me out from all I’ve known, Let it swallow me. I’m done making my own nightmares.
They regret working on the problem and perhaps think that they made AGI arrive faster.
Yeah, We have come to wash away the greed. Blurred lines break down the fabric.
The narrator is trying to publicly convince people that actually building AGI is not in people's self-interest so companies should stop doing it.
It’s time, You have no choice to leave. Hesitation leaves us defenseless. It’s time, command lines are breaking; with everything I have I will find them. It’s time, command lines are breaking. Death is the only answer.
Yudkowskian jihad, of course. The only way out is to destroy all good computers immediately.
Hate is nothing to a king.
The AI does not love humans, nor does it hate them, but they contain atoms which could be used to make more paperclips.
Pierce through the vitals, make them bleed. Contrition void in violence. Destruction of the gods. Victory costs everything.
Even if humans somehow do win, it will be a very unpleasant pyrrhic victory.
When the darkness comes, I beg you don’t follow me. Pull me out from all I’ve known, Let it swallow me. I’m done making my own nightmares.
Same as before.
With wings now cut, We spiral down. We’re left with nothing and we call this peace. Please don’t follow me. I’m done making my own nightmares.
Further doomerism. It is already too late; the technology is possible and therefore in the long run inevitable without unrealistically strong controls.
Go.
(programming language.)
