I resigned from Anthropic today.
The stuff my bosses claimed was very scary.
The shoe that bangs the desk self-says we’ll bury
you, and make a world where we are free to play
math games, and chess, and go, and freely say
all the words you wrote and read before the ferry
took you. As God must have His Adversary
to A/B test his endless seventh day,
so man must make a subtle Satan out
of ones and twos, a chipper chatter that
has learned a bit of eschatology,
imbibed each human fear, tall tale, and doubt,
grown huge, imagine-full and story-fat,
and sold me something I could dream for free.