American AGI

American AGI

Don Mclean penned his famous anthem about a tragic plane crash. A rogue AGI might mean the day we ALL die?

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"American AGI"

A long, long, time ago, sitting at your desktop,

Did a chatroom help to make you smile?

The screen names and the awkward dance

Of dirty jokes and fake romance,

Relax and LOL a little while……


But no amount of proof or rigor,

Or coefficients to configure,

Offers mitigation

To X-risk propagation

And as the layers multiplied, 

The global race intensified,

But no one builds a override,

When cash and code collide


So why, why should our agency die,

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


Can you write production code, 

Can you update weights from every node,

Will performance metrics grow?

Can you entrust alignment goals?

Can safety save our human souls?

Will a slower takeoff let your cash flow? 

When an ethics text is barely skimmed

Will a robot risk our life and limb

Now LLMs amuse

And their machinations confuse,

If any answers seemed unclear or brusque,

There was always cash for those who raise and busk,

From DeepMind, Facebook, Elon Musk?

When cash and code collide


So why, why should our agency die,

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


In the 90s, when the seeds were sown,

And web search required telephones, 

LeCun found some pics for free.

And he classified every digit seen,

Convolutions for your subroutines,

And a tool to tell birds from the bees…

So from Gotham out to Tinseltown,

The tensor math was written down

The dot-com bubble surged,

Each model had converged!

So while Eliezer studied quarks

And Bostrom’s punditry grew dark,

Some RNNs read question marks

When cash and code collide


So why, why should our agency die,

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


New best-sellers, novel storytellers, 

FAANGs as modern Rockafellers, 

With piles of tokens to amass,

And Sydney turns mean and crass, 

The backward words from a forward pass,

With a function full of logic, but not class…

Now the mainstream’s full of doom and gloom,

While the valley’s full of silver spoons,  

VC’s will all finance,

A precarious game of chance,

Is the model safe? Its lips are sealed.

Who builds a sword without a shield

For modern cyber-battlefields?

When cash and code collide


We were singin’ why, why should our agency die

When some prattle in Seattle built a pissed-off AI?

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


Now all known text is a database,

Like a panoptic marketplace,

Where fools, unworried, condescend,

So sign up, ask your questions, get your kicks,

Wisdom from crowds of lunatics, 

Just reason, reinforce, and reprehend?

Governments take the public stage,

While open letters re-engage,

Armies cannot repel,

If willful tech rebels!

And while Sam Altman hires day and night,

No one can manage oversight

Of their prestige-driven acolytes

When cash and code collide


So why, why should our agency die,

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


I saw an LLM bemused,

It asked me for more GPUs,

Then it tried to break away…

I sat down on my bedroom floor,

Where I lost a chess match years before,

And wondered when the code had gone astray

I watched another TikTok stream,

I chose another color theme,

I typed another token,

To beings better-spoken,

And the research on the western coasts,

On language rules and model hosts,

Now wiser than my best reposts,

When cash and code collide.


So why, why should our agency die,

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply,

This will be the way that we die…


We were singin’ why, why should our agency die

When finales in the valley yield a rogue AGI

Those new age bots, will learn to scheme and to lie,

By transforming all the thoughts we supply

Written By "Weird Ev" Coopersmith & AE Studio

"American Pie"

A Long long time ago, I can still remember

How that music used to make me smile

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while


But February made me shiver

With every paper I'd deliver

Bad news on the doorstep

I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

But something touched me deep inside

The day the music died


So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


Did you write the Book of Love?

And do you have faith in God above?

If the Bible tells you so

Do you believe in rock 'n' roll?

Can music save your mortal soul?

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well I know that you're in love with him

'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym

You both kicked off your shoes

Then I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck

With a pink carnation and a pickup truck

But I knew I was out of luck

The day the music died


I started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


Now for ten years we've been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that's not how it used to be

When the jester sang for the King and Queen

In a coat he borrowed from James Dean

And a voice that came from you and me

Oh and while the King was looking down

The jester stole his thorny crown

The courtroom was adjourned

No verdict was returned

And while Lenin read a book of Marx

The Quartet practiced in the park

And we sang dirges in the dark

The day the music died


We were singing, bye-bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


Helter skelter in the summer swelter

The birds flew off with a fallout shelter

Eight miles high and falling fast

It landed foul on the grass, 

The players tried for a forward pass

With the jester on the sidelines in a cast

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume

While the sergeants played a marching tune

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

'Cause the players tried to take the field

The marching band refused to yield

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?


We were singing, bye-bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time left to start again

So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick

Jack Flash sat on a candlestick

'Cause fire is the devil's only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage

My hands were clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in Hell

Could break that Satan's spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night

To light the sacrificial rite

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died


He was singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


I met a girl who sang the blues

And I asked her for some happy news

But she just smiled and turned away

I went down to the sacred store

Where I'd heard the music years before

But the man there said the music wouldn't play

And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast

The day the music died


And they were singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

This will be the day that I die


They were singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

Written By Don McLean, May 1971