Member-only story
In The Data Centre, The Dead LLMs Lie Dreaming
“It’s either real or it’s a dream, there’s nothing that is in between”
Thanks for that one, Jeff¹, but now to my reworked own prologue.
“Once upon a coding frenzy, while I typed both fast and tensely,
Over many a strange and cryptic error thrown without a cause —
While I struggled, nearly swearing, suddenly, beyond my bearing,
Came a bug so dark, despairing, lurking deep within my flaws.”
— Me, (with many apologies to Edgar Allan Poe)
It was only after that second long night, struggling against the usual nonsensical arbitrary deadline, imposed by a clearly insane project manager (so no change there, naturally), that I finally relented, gave in, threw in the towel, and opened the chatbot window.
With caution cast firmly into the wind, I copy pasted in the carefully crafted algorithm I had long laboured over, that beautifully eloquent construction of determinism and context free grammar, sighed to myself, and slowly typed in the uninviting dark window.
“Why doesn’t this damn thing work?”
I’d been in this situation before, of course, having tried several times to coax a modern day LLM into co-operating with me in order to shorten the time it takes to get a creative idea from my brain into executable code.
