I can use Ctrl-A, Ctrl-E, and Ctrl-U in text fields in the lynx browser, but not Ctrl-W.
I just checked to see if Ctrl-F and Ctrl-B work, and found that the former kills one word forward and the latter acts like Ctrl-W ought to?
80 karma · joined September 30, 2021
I just checked to see if Ctrl-F and Ctrl-B work, and found that the former kills one word forward and the latter acts like Ctrl-W ought to?
I'm not sure if the other options own their own label(s), though. It will be interesting to see how this acquisition shapes the content available on the app.
[1]: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/apple-aga...
The fact that bots can solve them -- and solve them fast -- is apparently a well-established fact in the literature. There is a table in the article comparing its (human) participants' solve times to a number of previous studies which examined how fast/accurate bots can be.
The Register (and the New Scientist, which most of this is cribbed from) is looking for a headline, so whatever. But the study's authors say that the "surprising" part is that "solving time and user perception are not always correlated" for human users. Game-based CAPTCHAs with sliders may take longer, but the users in the study still enjoyed them more than image-selection-based ones.
GPT detection ought to be optimized for longform texts, so tests of its efficacy should be, too. Perhaps the current detectors on the market are trying to assess writing at the sentence level, but if that's the case then it should be obvious that they will be inaccurate.
GMail can write most of a 100-word email for me if I type "Thanks so much" and hit tab. That's a good thing. If GPT is useful as a "productivity" tool, it is for low-level "writing" tasks like this, which aren't really writing at all, just rote responses. Anyone who can access this tool (if they have confidence in its prowess) should use it.
Writing proper is about developing ideas, and it's this that people need to be concerned about. It's true that if your college admissions essay is riddled with typos, eyebrows may be raised, but its ultimate significance is whether you can and are willing to reason. If someone is using ChatGPT (or spellcheck, or Grammarly) in order to cultivate the appearance of having "proper English," who cares? But if they're using GPT to avoid thinking altogether, that's a problem.
At ~250 words, I guess the only thing you can assess is good formal usage. It's patently obvious that both GPT and non-native English speakers will outperform native speakers on this.
Of course, I hope that anyone in the position to assess short-form writing is made aware of this research, and is cautious about GPT detection. On the other hand, it'd be pretty funny if idiosyncratic grammatical choices became the marker of a human hand.
Ultimately, it's probably not practical, but I liked the idea of using UNIX utilities to get around worrying about markup altogether during the writing process. The book isn't really about roff, so I only got a sideways view of this kind of workflow. Was this "a thing" in the 90s?
It's good to hear that phonics are making something of a comeback. But it seems like other things will need to change too. I spent some time teaching freshman English at a state university -- when a kid stumbles over a word like "infrastructure," one senses that the literacy problem goes beyond the sonic properties of printed text.
[1]: https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2019/08/the-rad...
* https://archive.org/details/personalcomputingmagazine
But I'm a little confused by the exact wording of this post. Google's Bard is in competition with GPT, isn't it? Is it not? Was there a news item I missed about this?
I don't use Google often enough to have a strong sense of what might be different and what remains the same, but I've just run a couple of searches and don't notice any drastic interface changes?
This is not a complaint -- I just really want to know the new reasons to complain about Google!
As cartoonish as it is, I buy that distinction. But usually, when people make it, they're making a plea for the old internet. The writer of this article, however, doesn't seem to be doing that. The milady community feels, "a little bit, like that internet from 1995"; it is unlike social media communities where you are "constantly performing your personality" and "Liking is a personal endorsement." Again, when people make that distinction, they're usually writing against likes, personality, and "iPhone photography of yourself."
So regarding the title: does she not want to be either type of internet person? Or is "normie" social media engagement ok?
depressed office worker sitting on toilet, bright lighting site:shutterstock.com kangaroo riding a skateboard site:shutterstock.com
They have recently distinguished the project proper from the "Bluesky community," which was -- as far as I could tell -- just a chatroom with a Matrix/Discord bridge, vaguely sanctioned by but distinct from Twitter. I couldn't understand most of what was under discussion, but it's a moderately amusing space if people arguing about what buzzwords mean is amusing to you.
So while I can't quite buy any sunny version of the act of "going to work," I do feel like something is missing. Maybe the miserable aspects were "character-building." The whole thing reminds me of recent high school graduates who are disoriented by the realization that their formerly rich social life was unnatural and enforced.
I think remote work is here to stay and I'm personally glad for it. But perhaps your opinions would sound less "controversial" if you framed what you feel you're missing out on as a mysterious je ne sais quoi of workplace life. I would never say, "Yeah, I miss seeing my coworkers every day," but I probably would say, "Yeah, sometimes I have an odd sense of Stockholm Syndrome for those freaks." And maybe creating a space to talk about that feeling is important.
60,000 white students * 0.04 = 2,400
4,000 Asian students * 0.25 = 1,000
> At bottom, parody functions by catering to a reasonable reader -- one who can tell (even after being tricked at first) that the parody is not real. If most readers of parody didn't live up to this robust standard, then there would be nothing funny about the Chinese government believing that a pudgy dictator like Kim Jong-un was the sexiest man on Earth. Everyone would just agree that it was perfectly reasonable for them to be taken in by the headline.
> The law turns on the same reasonable-person construct. The reasonable-reader test gauges whether a statement can reasonably be interpreted as stating actual facts, thereby ensuring that neither the least humorous nor the most credulous audience dictates the boundaries of protected speech.... see also Golb v. Att'y Gen. of N.Y., 870 F.3d 89, 102 (2d Cir. 2017) ("[A] parody enjoys First Amendment protection notwithstanding that not everybody will get the joke.")
I'm curious whether drawing any degree of public attention to the "reasonable-reader construct" will result in more nuanced discussion of misinformation/"fake news" than we normally get (in America).
The assumption seems often to be that the reader is always most likely an unreasonable reader, and that the solution to the problem is to accommodate every information stream to unreasonable reading habits, rather than intervening in the problem of widespread credulity (if that is indeed the problem) itself.
Due credit is not the only thing misplaced; the author who did the legwork is also, by virtue of their legitimate interest in their subject, a better prose stylist. Interesting, readable writing has to be more relevant to a search query than what the content farm produces.