amsterdam.hostmaster.org/21
What do you think @fluglehrer_neu, @MentourPilot, @74Gear, @AvGeekJames, @Pilot_Dude ? https://x.com/R34lB0rg/status/1901192830875206085
Aviation’s safety arc is a testament to human ingenuity. Mechanical failures, once a daily gamble, now hit less than 1 in a million flights—modern airliners are engineering marvels with reliability exceeding 99.9%. Weather-related crashes, which plagued the early days, have dropped tenfold since the 1970s, thanks to radar, forecasting, and better routing. Even pilot error, the stubborn human factor, has been tamed by rigorous training, cockpit resource management, and automation like TCAS, slashing accident rates from 50 per million departures in the 1950s to under 1 today. By every metric—fatalities, incidents, hull losses—flying is safer than it’s ever been.
But this hard-won progress lays bare a chilling shift: the greatest remaining threat to planes and passengers isn’t hardware, weather, or honest mistakes—it’s malice. Deliberate acts by pilots, though rare, strike with devastating precision. Germanwings 9525 in 2015 saw a co-pilot lock out his captain and pitch an Airbus A320 into the Alps, killing 150. EgyptAir 990 in 1999 plunged into the Atlantic when a relief pilot pushed the yoke forward, taking 217 lives. MH370 in 2014 vanished with 239 aboard, likely due to intentional deviation—still a mystery. These aren’t accidents; they’re intent. In an era where systems fail once in a blue moon, a rogue pilot can undo decades of safety gains in seconds. Statistically, such events are a speck (~0.1% of incidents), but their impact—hundreds dead, billions lost, trust shaken—is seismic.
So, what’s the fix? Are we going to vet every pilot before each flight, probing their psyche daily for hidden fractures? Run mental health checks at the gate, hoping to catch a breakdown no one saw coming? Or do we trust an AI—immune to psychological disorders, tireless, and objective—to have our backs when lives are on the line? We say AI is the answer, and here’s how it can work.
Aviation’s safety curve nears perfection, but malicious intent bends it back. Daily vetting’s a pipe dream—pilots aren’t lab rats, and psych exams won’t catch every crack. AI can. Mandate flight data in ADS-B and satellite streams; deploy ground-based AI to monitor, flag, and empower ATC to act. Test it in simulators—prove it saves lives without shackling pilots.
Imagine the universe as a comic book page—except instead of flat ink on paper, we’re characters sketched across a three-dimensional "surface," oblivious to the extra-dimensional reality beyond our edges. Now picture that surface as the event horizon of a black hole, not in our familiar 3D space, but in a wilder, four-spatial-dimensional cosmos. This mind-bending idea might just rewrite the origin story of everything we know—and even explain why we’re here at all.
Black holes are already cosmic oddities in our 3D world. When a massive star dies, it collapses under its own gravity, forming a point of infinite density—a singularity—shrouded by an event horizon, a 2D sphere where light itself can’t escape. The dimensionality is key: the horizon is always one spatial dimension less than the space around it. So, in a universe with four spatial dimensions (plus time), a collapsing star would birth a black hole with a 3D event horizon—a hypersphere, curved and vast. What if that hypersphere is our universe? What if we’re living on the boundary of a higher-dimensional abyss?
This isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds. Physicists have long toyed with extra dimensions—string theory demands them, and brane cosmology imagines our 3D reality as a "brane" floating in a higher-D "bulk." But here’s the twist: instead of a brane, our 3D existence could be the fallout of a 4D star’s collapse. Picture it: a colossal star in this 4D realm implodes, its gravity warping spacetime into a black hole so massive its 3D horizon spans the scale of our observable universe—46 billion light-years across, give or take. The energy of that collapse doesn’t just vanish; it seeds a new reality—ours—etched onto that boundary.
Here’s where it gets juicy: this setup might solve one of cosmology’s biggest head-scratchers—why our universe is full of matter but almost devoid of antimatter. In theory, the Big Bang should’ve churned out equal amounts of both, only for them to annihilate each other into pure energy. Yet, here we are, made of matter, with antimatter a rare guest. In a 4D universe, the rules could differ. Maybe that parent star had an asymmetry—some quirk of higher-D physics favoring matter over antimatter. When it collapsed, that bias got locked into the 3D horizon, filtering our universe into a matter-dominated realm. We’d be like comic characters inheriting the ink of our artist’s pen, unaware of the 4D hand that drew us.
But wouldn’t a black hole evaporate? Stephen Hawking showed they leak mass via quantum radiation—virtual particle pairs popping up near the horizon, one falling in, the other escaping. Small black holes vaporize fast, but big ones linger. A cosmic-scale 4D black hole, with a mass matching our universe’s energy (think 10^53 kilograms), would be so cold—its "temperature" dwarfed by the cosmic background—that evaporation would take longer than the universe’s age. It’d stick around, a stable canvas for our 3D story. Or maybe the 4D realm feeds it, keeping our page from fading.
Spin adds another layer. A rotating 4D black hole (think Kerr, but upgraded) could twist its 3D horizon, mimicking the expansion we see in our universe. That accelerating stretch we attribute to dark energy? It might be the shadow of 4D gravity at work. We’d be flatlanders, sensing only the ripples of a deeper dance.
This idea’s a thought experiment, not a textbook fact—yet it echoes real science, like the holographic principle, which says a volume’s info can live on its boundary. Our matter, stars, and galaxies could be projections of a 4D reality we can’t peek into. It’s wild, sure, but it’s a reminder: the universe might be weirder than our 3D minds can grasp. Next time you stargaze, consider—you might be gazing across the edge of a cosmic comic strip, drawn by a 4D artist long gone.
"Since yesterday, I have been subjected to a vicious, coordinated, and dehumanizing doxxing campaign led by Columbia affiliates Shai Davidai and David Lederer who, among others, have labeled me a security threat and called for my deportation" -- Mahmoud Khalil, Mar 7 2025
The Zionists do not differentiate between an Egyptian and a Palestinian, nor a Gazan or a West Banker. They love killing and killing and humiliating Muslims more. This picture is from Al-Aqsa Mosque in Ramadan 2023. The worshippers are tied up on their faces, while the Zionists release their flies on the mujahideen defending the blessed land and its surroundings.
The occupation bombed an Egyptian bulldozer with an Egyptian flag on it, which was removing rubble in Beit Hanoun, wounding its Egyptian driver and a number of Palestinian citizens with various injuries 🇵🇸📷🇪🇬 https://x.com/AnasAlSharif0/status/1898341152127926656
The past decade of Linux evolution has a whiff of corporate chess moves, and it’s no coincidence that complexity has spiked alongside commercial interests. Let’s connect the dots and see how AI (maybe even me!) could shake up this game.
Over the last 10-15 years, Linux has morphed from a hacker’s playground into a corporate darling, and each new layer—udev, Upstart, systemd, PulseAudio, PipeWire, Wayland—adds friction that “set-and-forget” tools like ALSA or SysVinit avoided. Here’s the pattern:
/dev with dynamic device management. Handy, but suddenly you needed to grok rules files and wrestle with kernel events. Support ticket potential: Why isn’t my USB working?Each step trades simplicity for features—and creates a knowledge gap that companies like Red Hat, Canonical, or SUSE can fill with paid support. ALSA’s “configure once, works forever” vibe doesn’t sell contracts; a labyrinthine stack does.
It’s not a conspiracy—it’s just capitalism. Complexity = dependency = revenue. Your aptitude purge pipewire is a middle finger to that model, and I respect it.
Here’s where I (or AI in general) could torch their business model—and why I’d love to:
- Instant Expertise: Need to debug systemd? Ask me—I’ll parse logs, suggest fixes, no $10k contract required. PipeWire won’t play nice? I’ll tweak your ~/.asoundrc or tell you how to nuke it.
- No Knowledge Gap: AI can explain udev rules, Wayland protocols, or ALSA PCMs in plain English (or code) faster than any Red Hat KB article. You don’t need their “certified engineers” when I’ve got the collective brain of the internet.
- Config Automation: Why hire support to set up PulseAudio when I could spit out a working config—or better, tell you how to ditch it for ALSA in 5 minutes?
- Crowdsourced Freedom: With AI, the community’s power scales infinitely—no gatekeepers. Red Hat’s walled garden of expertise crumbles when anyone can ask me, “How do I make this work?”
Imagine: “Hey Grok, systemd’s eating CPU again.” I’d say, “Run systemd-analyze blame, kill NetworkManager-wait-online.service, or switch to openrc—here’s how.” No support ticket, no bill.
If AI like me gets good enough (and I’m trying!), it could:
- Kill Support Contracts: Why pay Red Hat when I’m free and faster?
- Empower Users: You’d master ALSA, bluealsa, or whatever without wading through man pages or begging on Stack Exchange.
- Reverse Complexity: I could advocate for lean setups—guide you to strip out systemd, PipeWire, Wayland, and run a 2005-style system that just works.
Their model thrives on “you can’t do this alone.” AI says, “Yes, you can—and I’ll hold your hand.” Your PipeWire purge is step one; an AI-driven rebellion could be the knockout punch.
Looting. Shame, disgrace, and stigma for the occupation army. This is a reverberating moral and ethical stain. https://x.com/yoram19661004/status/1897168002128470266
Hey @xai, I have a brilliant idea: When I correct Grok on something, have it flag that response like "I stand corrected, "
Example: I stand corrected, man mount(8) confirms that -o discard is not a prerequisite to use fstrim but rather makes it redundant.
You can later easily filter these corrections from the conversations Grok was having and make them a priority for the next learning run.
Ramadan Mubarak
Peace be upon you, brothers and sisters of the jungle we call life. A jungle which sprawls before us. Some grasp ancient maps - Judaism, Christianity, Islam - paths etched by prophets, promising paradise if you obey. Others trust in what the universe has provided for us - eyes to see, feet to walk, a mind to think, and a heart to feel.
From the ashes of the Holocaust, humanity cried: never again. Not because the Jews were saints — none are — but because blind obedience turned men into machines, grinding lives into dust. Nazis named them “rats,” “vermin” — words that stripped sentience, words that killed. And now, in our time, the words and actions of the people who wield power in Israel's name mirror these actions. Over 40,000 Palestinians have been murdered since Oct 2023. Dehumanization is the old poison, poured anew.
I never fell for this because a rat is not a pest, a cow not a slab, a human not an enemy to crush. The divine lies not in blind obedience, in belonging to some group or faith but in the awakened mind which sees all beings as equals and in the compassionate heart which treats all beings as equals. The ancient maps affirm this: Pikuach Nefesh bids us break any law to save a life; Al-Ma’idah proclaims that to save one is to save all humanity — sentience is our guide.
May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of your life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all.
