Manufacturing Dissent Since 1996
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The killers are so well armed now. They have invented weapons of mass destruction that can do to people and to places what shouldn't be allowed to happen. And that's even without the nuclear bunkers. These people have programmed systems and have removed the guardrails. All along the story with the AI programs in Gaza, they had the opportunity to narrow the parameters. They had the opportunity to insist that there was proper human oversight. All of these were brushed aside.

Andy Worthington returns to the show to discuss his recent writing, including "The Horrors of AI-Driven Military Targeting, From Gaza to Iran," and "900 Days of Genocide in Gaza." "The Moment of Truth" with Jeff Dorchen follows the interview.

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Aug 25 2020
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Aug 10 2020
Posted by Matthew Boedy

Welcome to the Moment of Truth: the thirst that is the drink.

Reading the journals of others, I’m always struck by the way their strengths in one area make up for weaknesses in another. “I wasn’t interested in the majestic mountain ranges, but the old volumes in the village’s small library held me in their thrall.” Or, “My brother’s studies of the classic works of Linnaeus held no interest for me. I lived for the rush of wind as I schussed down the berg.” Or, “I never could get the hang of archery. No, for me, all joy burst forth from the sea as I landed a fish for supper.”

I could never do that memoir schtick. For one thing, I’m too dishonest. And for another, for every weakness of mine, instead of a strength in another area making up for it, there’s an additional weakness. For example, “I never liked other kids much, and they didn’t like me, but at least I had some science fiction to read, which bored me a little less, but was small consolation for a lonely life as child pariah.”

“Oh, blah blah blah, Jeffrey, who wants to listen to you read your creative writing assignment?” I had a boss who used to complain about people’s creative writing assignments being read on NPR. That was the only good thing about my boss. See, I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine. I picked up a shovel and I went to the mine. I hauled sixteen tons of number nine coal and the straw boss said, “Well bless my soul.”

That’s one thing I like to pretend. That I worked in the mines. That I had one fist of iron and the other of steel. The getting another day older and deeper in debt part, well, that I don’t have to imagine. That happened this morning, as it does every morning.

Yep, that’s why I voted for Trump. Because he said he was going to open the mines back up, bring coal back. Not cuz I’m racist. I mean, I am racist, but let’s be honest: Obama made it hard not to be racist, with his audacity to be black and president at the same time, presiding while black, defying the laws of white physics. And white people invented physics, and don’t you forget it. I mean, can you imagine a bunch of Black people achieving a fake moon landing? They’d never get that hoax off the ground. You know why? Because their Jesus doesn’t have German science on his side.

It’s... read more