Elon Musk Said Grok's Roasts Would Be'Epic' at Parties--So I Tried It on My Coworkers It went about as well as you'd expect. We can debate the worthiness of Elon Musk's accomplishments--building up Tesla, hollowing out the government, shooting for Mars --but we can all agree that his insistence on being seen as funny is his most grating quality. From the constant 4:20 references to his quote tweet "dunks" to awarding " Certified Bangers " badges to silly X posts, Musk's desperation for validation knows no bounds. It can get pretty annoying when the richest guy on earth makes a joke and then awkwardly eyes the room waiting for everyone to laugh. But over the weekend, I was intrigued when a clip emerged of Musk telling Joe Rogan that using Grok's Unhinged Mode to deliver an "epic vulgar roast" is a surefire way to "make people really laugh at a party."

In the late 19th century, Georg Cantor believed his new theory could help the Church understand the infinite nature of the divine. It might have escaped lay people at the time, but for some observers the ascension of Leo XIV as head of the Catholic Church this year was a reminder that the last time a Pope Leo sat in St. Peter's Chair in the Vatican, from 1878 to 1903, the modern view of infinity was born. Georg Cantor's completely original "naïve" set theory caused both revolution and revolt in mathematical circles, with some embracing his ideas and others rejecting them. Cantor was deeply disappointed with the negative reactions, of course, but never with his own ideas. Because he held firm to the belief that he had a main line to the absolute--that his ideas came direct from (the divine intellect).

And when that didn't work, I did have sex with AI Pedro Pascal. I recently heard that a former friend was now heavily into an S/M relationship with Pedro Pascal. This was moderately surprising, as she's a lesbian and he's an AI chatbot, but what is fluidity for if not to explore previously untapped facets of ourselves? Let's not get all rigid about identities. I decided I wanted in on this.

Activity trackers have come a long way. No longer mere step-counters, they can monitor your heart rate, blood oxygen level, and skin temperature, and can even detect whether you suffer from sleep apnea. Now, there's a new wearable for your brain--and I've been testing it out for the past two weeks. Today, Boston-based company Neurable announced the launch of its smart headphones, dubbed the MW75 Neuro, which use electroencephalography, or EEG, and artificial intelligence to track the wearer's focus levels by reading their brain waves. The device sends this data to a mobile app, with the goal of helping the user tweak their habits to improve their work routine.

When they finally appeared, I squinted, bewildered. I laughed out loud alone in my office, then sent a very confused email to customer support. Every writer I know is talking about AI tools and whether they're ethical to use. But what's just as interesting to me is why we're so enamored with them even if they produce outrageous or below-average results. Why do we chase the shiny new thing even if it's not better, faster, or cheaper?

In 2017, detectives at the East Bay Regional Park District Police Department working a cold case got an idea, one that might help them finally get a lead on the murder of Maria Jane Weidhofer. Officers had found Weidhofer, dead and sexually assaulted, at Berkeley, California's Tilden Regional Park in 1990. Nearly 30 years later, the department sent genetic information collected at the crime scene to Parabon NanoLabs--a company that says it can turn DNA into a face. Parabon NanoLabs ran the suspect's DNA through its proprietary machine learning model. Soon, it provided the police department with something the detectives had never seen before: the face of a potential suspect, generated using only crime scene evidence. The image Parabon NanoLabs produced, called a Snapshot Phenotype Report, wasn't a photograph.

I decided to take ChatGPT3 to a writing class. I mean a real writing class. One that takes you seriously and tries to get a story out of your soul. One that works hard to help you when you fail to express yourself and helps you find your way. ChatGPT3 is an impressive piece of technology.

On a rainy afternoon earlier this year, I logged into my OpenAI account and typed a simple instruction for the research company's artificial-intelligence algorithm, GPT-3: Write an academic thesis in 500 words about GPT-3 and add scientific references and citations inside the text. As it started to generate text, I stood in awe. Here was novel content written in academic language, with references cited in the right places and in relation to the right context. It looked like any other introduction to a fairly good scientific publication. Given the very vague instruction I'd provided, I had meager expectations.

On a rainy afternoon earlier this year, I logged in to my OpenAI account and typed a simple instruction for the company's artificial intelligence algorithm, GPT-3: Write an academic thesis in 500 words about GPT-3 and add scientific references and citations inside the text. As it started to generate text, I stood in awe. Here was novel content written in academic language, with well-grounded references cited in the right places and in relation to the right context. It looked like any other introduction to a fairly good scientific publication. Given the very vague instruction I provided, I didn't have any high expectations: I'm a scientist who studies ways to use artificial intelligence to treat mental health concerns, and this wasn't my first experimentation with AI or GPT-3, a deep-learning algorithm that analyzes a vast stream of information to create text on command. Yet there I was, staring at the screen in amazement.

In winter, my nose gets very cold, very quickly. Whether I'm at home or out on the streets, my nose--unlike any other part of my body--turns icy, spoiling whatever activity I am engaged in. A few weeks ago, after years of suffering, I bought a nose-warmer. Mine is, technically, a purple cup of fleece with a strap: you slide a nose into it, and the snout stays warm. Problem solved--or so I thought.