THE LANDING

Heaven forbid that I should express here the slightest opinion, bias, stance, inclination or attitude about AI, its mentors, supporters and haters, from the enthusiastic to the lukewarm, from East to West, pedalling here and there between the meridians.

No. I don't want to think about what concerns the misnamed "artificial intelligence", which is neither intelligent, because it neither suffers nor exalts itself, nor artificial, because it is a work of art devised by humans with glasses. Well, let's admit that there are some without them, but eyeglasses predominate in that human group destined to blindness, as Borges or Bach were also, for other reasons.

I wanted to talk about humans, not about intelligences that are not. And of Aktios, who has come my way with the armour of a foreigner... and the heart of a manatee!

It never crossed my mind that I would see, and so closely, that I would also meet, that I would even converse with such singular characters as I am getting to know these days of my incorporation to Aktios Factory. Later I will tell you what Aktios is, and what the Factory name adds to it.

That is, if I can pick up my jaw. And not because I'm a complete fool and have to hold my jaw in my left hand. No: it's just because I'm astounded, and astonishment is intrinsically and uniquely human, isn't it? Think about it a little and you will see that there are few Ceylonese lizards who are stupefied by anything.

Even good statues, in the abundant repertoire of sculptural art, which, if they were well made, could be said to embody some sentiment, do not, at bottom, wonder, fear, rejoice or wait for the toilet to be vacated. They boast of it, through the hand of the artist, but from the Pietà to the same Pinocchio that someone snatched from Lorenzini, they are all pious trolls of marble, nougat or beech wood.

This can be extended to the pictorial, with its inspired strokes and full-colour lies, but also to comedy, circus, opera or Greek tragedy, whose protagonists are bawling their eyes out in front of the abyss of something dangerous, erotic, sad, triumphant or simply epic, but deep down the actresses and actors who embody the brilliant simulation are thinking about whether their Netflix account will be free of intruders tonight, or whether the tiramisu really has aniseed, grand marnier or vodka in it.

If we look at it with the right eyes - who knows what those eyes are - all this is not so different from the immense scaffolding that makes up the AI's shambles.

Cover photo: "Into the Jaws of Death", atrib. Robert F. Sargent / U.S. Coast Guard Photo