Kvasir

This is my metaphor in the Norse mythology- the war between the Aesir and the Vanir, they spat on the ground, and from that spit Kvasir was born. (His name is pronounced KWAF- SEER- if you are interested)

The smartest creature in the world.

He held all the knowledge. He was like a an ancient Google.

Kvasir tapped into the world, and people could ask him anything. He was a popular everywhere , and as he knew everything, he also knew this: he would be devoured.

And so it happened — his body made into mead.

The mead was carried in vats and swallowed by the shaman-king Odin. It filled Odin’s belly with brilliance, and when Odin’s lips poured it forth, it became the mead of poetry — given only to those the gods deemed touched by the divine.

But not all mead poured forth from Odin’s mouth. Some came out the other end. And that, the skalds say, is the origin of bad poetry- of kitsch.

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This is the metaphor for AI.

AI is Kvasir.

It knows all. Resting in the bellies of gods- of the great nerds of this world- coming from our own salvia- our own potential. Yes- it builds my webpage, fixes my cover letter, translates all my dreams into code.

It appears to understand- but it is not human- not even close. It is code.

It is our mirror.

Kvasir is an offering. A place where poetry and potential could grow into the best versions of ourselves.

But knowing humans- I suspect Kvasir in this manifestation will not be used for poetry- but only for shit.. for solving your endless anxiety, telling me what TV show is better, and how to decide on a dog sitter….when we could use it to build the selves we were meant to become.