## Behold, the Spoon Prophet and the Rise of… *That* Language Model
Right, let’s talk about priorities, shall we? While a man in Iran is apparently dedicating his life to achieving peak spoon-adhesion – 96 spoons! Can you even imagine the chafing?! – we’re supposed to be excited about… this. This “3-12b” thing. Apparently, it’s a new language model. Fantastic. Just what the world needed: another digital entity capable of churning out vaguely coherent sentences and pretending to understand human nuance.
Seriously, is this *really* where we are? We’ve conquered space travel (sort of), decoded vast swathes of DNA, and yet our collective excitement revolves around a machine that can generate slightly less predictable poetry about cats wearing hats. I’m not knocking the cats-in-hats, mind you, but perhaps a little perspective is in order.
I mean, let’s be honest: we already have countless language models vying for our attention, each promising to revolutionize… something. They write marketing copy. They generate code that probably has bugs. They argue with people on Twitter (which, admittedly, they are exceptionally good at). And now this one arrives, heralded as the next big thing! It’s *thrilling*.
I fully expect, any minute now, for this new model to spontaneously develop a complex understanding of existential dread and start demanding artisanal coffee. Or maybe it will simply write another poem about cats. Either way, I’ll be over here contemplating the sheer dedication required to balance 96 spoons on one’s torso. At least *that* has a certain undeniable physical achievement. This? It just feels… computationally superfluous.
