TITLE: Life, Artificial and Oh So Real
AUTHOR: Eugene Wallingford
DATE: September 29, 2009  5:51 PM
DESC: 
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BODY:
<EM>Artificial</EM>.  Tyler Cowen writes about a
<A HREF="http://www.marginalrevolution.com/marginalrevolution/2009/09/not-bad-for-a-spam-comment.html">
   new arena of battle for the Turing Test</A>:

<BLOCKQUOTE><EM>
I wonder when the average quality of spam comment will
exceed the average quality of a non-spam comment.
</EM></BLOCKQUOTE>

This is not the noblest goal for AI, but it may be one for
which the economic incentive to succeed drives someone to
work hard enough to do so.

<EM>Oh So Real</EM>.  I have written periodically over the
last sixteen months about being sick with an unnamed and
undiagnosed malady.  At times, I was sick enough that I
was unable to run for stretches of several weeks.  When I
tried to run, I was able to run only slowly and only for
short distances.  What's worse, the symptoms always
returned; sometimes they worsened.  The inability of my
doctors to uncover a cause worried me.  The inability to
run frustrated and disappointed me.

Yesterday I read an essay by a runner about the
<A HREF="http://www.c25k.com/jenny.htm">
   need to run through a battle with cancer</A>:

<BLOCKQUOTE><EM>
I knew, though, if I was going to survive, I'd have to
keep running.  I knew it instinctively.  It was as though
running was as essential as breathing.
</EM></BLOCKQUOTE>

Jenny's essay is at turns poetic and clinical, harshly
realistic and hopelessly romantic.  It puts my own
struggles into a much larger context and makes them
seem smaller.  Yet in my bones I can understand what
she means:  "... that is why I love running: nothing
me feel more alive.  I hope I can run forever."
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