Arduino has a 16GB DDR5 board designed to run local LLMs for $299. And it has 64GB of storage on board. Granted it’s not as flexible as a Pi, but it has DDR5 RAM, and a good bit of storage on board for cheaper.

A 16GB Raspberry pi with DDR4 for $385 is just robbery.

You can’t do swings or Turkish getups with a barbell….

Also, on a treadmill or stationary bike, if you get tired or just ain’t feeling it, you’re not 3 miles away from your house or car when you stop.

Sure you can run or bike outside but if you’re a few miles in and get hurt or too tired, you’re walking back.

We had Starlink for a few months when we moved into our house. It was a new build and we were one of the first in the neighborhood, so the telecoms hadn’t laid out wire yet.

It was honestly great. We’d get almost a gig down and never really had any connection issues unless it was heavy snow.

My in laws live in the middle of nowhere and they went from I want to say hughsnet to Starlink and it’s been night and day for them.

You’re almost the perfect use case lol. The whole point of the fold is for people that have or want both a phone and a tablet, but only want to carry one device.

I don’t currently have an iPad. My wife does and I end up using it a lot. I want an iPad mini for the times that I want just a bit bigger screen, but I’ve held off because I don’t want another device.

So I’ve got a duo on order. 90% of the time I’ll probably have it closed. The other 10% of the time it’ll serve the use that I use my wife’s iPad for but will have my setup instead of her layout that I’m not used to lol.

Because having the smaller profile in your pocket, but being able to fold out to watch content on a higher screen is completely different than zooming….

Sure you can zoom in on a YouTube video, but why? You’re just getting a nose or something instead of the video.

The fold is for when you do most of your stuff on the small screen, but want the big screen for certain things and don’t want two devices to do it. Which is the perfectly valid use case.

Taking a modern large screen phone on a run can be a pain in the ass. Why get a small phone and a small tablet when you can have a small phone that unfolds into a small tablet when you want it to?

I mean, ok? The flagship androids cost the same or more and have less support lol. They literally don’t last nearly as long as iPhones.

It’s literally the same price as all the other folding phones. Being Apple is irrelevant.

Sure, you can say $2000 is too much for a phone. I’m inclined to agree. But this is clearly the market price for a foldable phone across the board.

Well, ideally that would mean you are able to increase production with the same people and produce more for the same budget. Not cut heads.

.world doesn’t openly support .ml. They’ve defederated from the other big tankie instances.

But they’re literally the creators and active developers of Lemmy. Remaining federated allows them to have updates on time. It’s extremely easy to block entire instances too. Just go to your settings and block .ml.

.ml only has 600 users per day. It’s a non issue.

World is emptying because 95% of users don’t actually interact in the first place. No platform will succeed when you only have a few users actually creating content.

They’re never going to defederate from .ml. That’s the main Lemmy instance and the one the developers of Lemmy itself run.

The only narrative text in the game is at the end credits. It’s long but here it is. The LLM is actually just making a federal government take on it, which is actually kinda funny.

——————————————————

I see the player you mean.

PLAYERNAME?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

That doesn’t matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

What did this player dream?

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].

It cannot read that thought.

No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

It reads our thoughts.

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

And yet they play the game.

But it would be so easy to tell them…

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

I will not tell the player how to live.

The player is growing restless.

I will tell the player a story.

But not the truth.

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.

Give it a body, again.

Yes. Player…

Use its name.

PLAYERNAME. Player of games.

Good.

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn’t you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a player.

The player was you, PLAYERNAME.

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

Let’s go back.

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother’s body, into the long dream.

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

Let’s go further back.

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player’s body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by…

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks “electrons” and “protons”.

Sometimes it called them “planets” and “stars”.

Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.

You are the player, reading words…

Shush… Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive

You. You. You are alive.

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player’s eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.

You are the player.

Wake up.

They are not. The F-35 has a top speed of Mach 1.6. It’s a supersonic aircraft.

The SR-71 has a top speed of Mach 3.2 lol. Literally twice as fast as the F-35 but still well short of the Mach 5 required for hypersonic flight.

The F-35 also has a flight ceiling of 50,000 feet, while the SR-71 has an 85,000 foot ceiling.

The SR-71 served exactly one role: High supersonic aerial reconnaissance. No weapons, nothing. Just fly higher and faster than anything else on the planet.

The F-35 is a strike fighter and air superiority fighter.

They’re really not comparable.

Nor would an SR-71 play anywhere near the same role as an F-35 lol. They’re apples to oranges.

There’s literally no such thing as price gouging with luxury products. People have to stop equating a bad perceived value with price gouging. If you don’t think it’s a good value, don’t buy it. There’s nothing about any Apple product that is a necessity that you can’t live without.

The whole point was that the T-800 was a bottom barrel cyborg. They were all modeled after Arnold, but there were thousands of them.

They basically found a junker in the trash and reprogrammed it. He was NOT the same T-800 from The Terminator. He was a completely different robot.