PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

Gods and Fathers

Did you hear that Geoffrey Hinton, aka the "Godfather of AI," decided to quit his job at Google? Apparently, he wanted to speak freely about the dangers of artificial intelligence without his bosses, who employed him to develop AI, suppressing his speech. Not that bosses have ever tried to suppress employees' speech. Or read my blog to see if I'm saying something negative about them. Heh heh

Although Hinton has been anointed a godfather, don't confuse him with the recently deceased Godfather of Poker, Doyle Brunson. Or Godfather of Soul, James Brown. Or the Godfather of Blogging, me.

Yeah, OK, maybe I'm not yet known as the Godfather of Blogging, but get this: I am an actual godfather, having been anointed as such when I agreed (apparently) to raise my nephew Erich as a Catholic if his parents met an untimely death before he was confirmed. This was back when my sister and brother-in-law could reasonably be called Catholic, and I had already become a borderline atheist. Now, Erich's parents have left Catholicism for the Abundant Life Church, while I'm pretty sure that Jesus Christ never existed, let alone was "The Son of God." So, I'm wondering if I need to renounce my godfather status.

Sorry, I've gotten off topic.

Whoever first decided to use the term "Godfather" to refer to individuals who have made a substantial mark in certain areas of industry and the arts aimed pretty low. Godfather is not a legally recognized title. It's not like Bill Monroe, who was called the "Father of Bluegrass." He's an actual father, which means he ranks higher than all those godfathers out there. Even a great uncle outranks a godfather.

If you wanted to aim high, you could name yourself a king, like Elvis Presley, King of Pop, or BB King, King of the Blues.

Dinah Washington dubbed herself Queen of the Blues and might have thought this moniker made her the world's chief blueswoman, but Bessie Smith was known as "Empress of the Blues," outranking Queen Washington.

Joan Jett was the Godmother punk, but other than that, there aren't a lot of Godmothers out there in the music world. I've heard that Morrissey was called "The Pope of Mope," which in a sense makes him among the highest-ranking musicians in the w orld. Kings rule nations, emperors rule empires, but popes transcend such boundaries.

Ultimately, I'm not yet wellenough known to be called a king, or pope. I'm currently shooting for Second Cousin of Blogging, Once Removed. Wish me luck as I petition the US Trademark Office on that. 

Continue reading
  437 Hits

 

 

Daily Haiku

 

Cats oft’ void their guts.

They cough out fur balls. They puke.  

We tread carefully.  

 

College Tuition

We dig ourselves a deep hole

Need a second job.

 

Now that I’m sixty

People think I’m a wise man

Probably, I’m not

 

I’m in my Fifties

But tomorrow I’m Sixty

Will need a sports car

 

My PCP Says

“Keep doin’ what yer doin’”

Prob’ly I should not

 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day

We eat beef that has been corned

Whatever that means

 

Robots and A.I.

I will make use of these soon

To do my taxes

 

Strange Oscar night end

Pacino failed to mention

Best pic nominees

 

Who’s this Katie Britt?

Scary. Wierd. We could have used

A Trigger Warning

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

Audio Bands I've Seen Coyotes Canadiana punk music Soul Coughing Spoon the band Bikes curling shoes winter Diseases Football nukes Biden the sea Earth Candy Knots Art Bicycles Ice Dancing The Future Higher Education Existential Crisis Masks Radiohead Marketing Gimmicks College Sports Joan Jett Head injuries BB King Grass Skiing The Past Sugarbush Canada Guns and Ammo Skating Real Estate Imaginings town square Religion midwinter vacations Fiction Trump New England First World Problems Reveillon plan mid-winter vacations Putin Pats seasons Rabbit Hole Cats Big Shoes Hot Air Balloon Mustard coronavirus Soup Food Email Theater Mom and Dad tambourrine Mike Doughty high winds Liz Phair Ketchup Accounting Good Reads The future Music Bands I've seen Stories I should write My grandparents Bob Dylan Europe Folk Music Ticketmaster weather Peacekeeping NFL The Old Days Drumming Hache Verde Politics As Usual Ukraine TV Bunker 1980s US Senate Cars Motorists Christmas Hand Planes Emergencies Barber Shops Belgian Ales Quebect Chowder Vaughn Them Kids vacation Communication Channels My sisters COVID Bodysurfing Brewing Brain Surgery Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Butterfingers Bands I haven't seen Roommates I've Had technology Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Boston Bill Monroe Things I've done Climate Change Hawaii Audubon Bar Spice Girls baseball When I die Teeth Eclipse Rock Bands Stairs Skiing Yeast Hurricanes Beer My Parents Halloween Syracuse Plastic Smoke Meat Dad advice COVID-19 Red Sox Soviet Union Allergies Me Advertising Godfather Scotch and Sirloin Tom Waits the future China Car Dealerships Texting Elvis Presley afterlife Work Mass General Hospital Wind War and Peace Royal Stuff Weather Cornhole star acerbic high school principal cornhole soapbox rantings gathering throngs Zoom People I know NPR Soccer Vaccines Martinis Snow Guns Eating and Drinking Short Fiction Golf My Estate