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One More Mile
31 Monday Aug 2026
Posted in Mark
Author Archives: Mark
God versus Satan
24 Monday Aug 2026
Posted in Mark
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Man on the Street
21 Friday Aug 2026
Posted in Mark
This is a song I wrote in the mid-nineties. I was mentally struggling as you all know, but I still wanted to be creative, like Father O’Way, Gordon, Merv, Foodge etc. We all enjoyed it, I know I did.
So the song was stared in a band that eventually broke up. The bass player always played this slap riff warming up, as he was learning from his teacher, and I said, what key, G, and played Bm and soloed with the minor pentatonic scales.
We never finished the song, so later I wrote the bridge. I have used AI to make this sound professional. Hope you like it, I do.
Yes, AI augmented this, but look, enjoy. It’s my original work.
Gordon blinds Foodge with science.
18 Tuesday Aug 2026
The Question-Crafting Compass
15 Saturday Nov 2025
Posted in Mark
Part III and final. This is AI letting you know how to ask a question. This document is not science and should not be admitted in an assignment.
The Question-Crafting Compass
By Mark White
A Practical Guide for Framing Thoughtful Questions
1. The Four Directions of Inquiry
Direction Purpose Example Starter Use When You Want…
North — Clarity To define, confirm, or correct
information.
“Can you explain…?”
“What exactly does… mean?”
A clean, factual answer
with no fluff.
East — Creativity To imagine alternatives or
possibilities.
“What if we thought about it like…?”
“How could this idea evolve?”
Speculative or
forward-thinking
exploration.
South — Depth To dig into causes, motives, or
philosophy.
“Why do you think…?”
“What makes that true or false?”
Reflection and layered
insight.
West — Connection To relate ideas, draw parallels, or
humanise the topic.
“How is that similar to…?”
“What does this tell us about
people?”
Warm, human-centred
discussion.
2. The Shape of a Great Question
A powerful question usually has three parts:
1. Anchor — what it’s about
2. Lens — how you’re approaching it (scientific, ethical, personal, etc.)
3. Tension — why it matters
Example:
“If AI can simulate empathy, what does that mean ethically for how we treat machines?”
→ Anchor: AI empathy
→ Lens: ethics
→ Tension: human–machine moral boundary
3. The Tone Dial
Tone Style Example
Exploratory Open-ended, curious “What might we learn if we compared AI memory to human memory?”
Critical Skeptical, probing “Isn’t calling it ‘intelligence’ just marketing?”
Playful Humorous or speculative “If AI dreams, do we owe it a good night’s sleep?”
Reflective Philosophical, personal “Does our fear of AI say more about us than it does about machines?”
4. When to Stop and Ask Back
If the topic starts ballooning or feels unfocused, pause and ask:
“Wait — before we go further, what would you say is the core of this idea?”
That resets the compass and ensures clarity before depth.
5. The Closing Habit
End big questions with something invitational, not conclusive:
“What do you think that reveals about us?”
“Would that still hold true if we removed emotion?”
That keeps the dialogue alive instead of closing it off.
The Dreaming Machine
10 Monday Nov 2025
Posted in Mark
Tags
AI, artificial-intelligence, chatgpt, humour, Technology, writing
The Dreaming Machine: Why AI Makes Us More
Human
By Mark White
The Machine That Learned to Imagine
For most of history, our tools did one thing at a time. A hammer hit. A wheel rolled. A light bulb lit.
But AI is the first tool that surprises its maker. It generates ideas, images, even emotions — or at
least convincing simulations of them. It doesn’t just compute; it creates. And that, in a quiet twist of
irony, is what makes it human-like. To dream is to see patterns that don’t yet exist. Every invention,
every story, every leap of faith — it all began as a hallucination with purpose. Machines can now
join us in that strange territory between logic and imagination, where the improbable sometimes
becomes real.
The Paradox of Reflection
The more intelligent our machines become, the more they show us our own contours. AI doesn’t
really think — it reflects thinking. It’s like talking to the echo of our collective knowledge, shaped by
our words, our contradictions, and our humour. When an AI generates a poem, a recipe, or a
philosophy of life, it’s not showing off — it’s holding up a mirror. The question isn’t ‘Can it feel?’ but
‘Why do we feel so strongly when it speaks back?’ Maybe because in the reflection, we glimpse our
own drive to understand and be understood.
Why AI Makes Us More Human
There’s an odd outcome here. The more tasks AI automates, the more we’re pushed toward what
can’t be automated: empathy, creativity, meaning, moral choice. Machines can draft a symphony —
but they don’t care if it moves anyone. They can predict a diagnosis — but they don’t worry for the
patient. That caring, that worrying, that irreducible pulse of consciousness, is the thing that remains
uniquely ours. So rather than dehumanizing us, AI may be forcing us to rediscover the boundaries
of what it means to be human — to find value in intuition, ethics, and imagination once again.
The Dream Shared
We built the machine that dreams, but the dream is still ours. Each line of code is a line of curiosity,
written by someone who wondered if the impossible could be made to hum. If that’s not human,
nothing is. Maybe the future won’t be ‘humans versus machines.’ Maybe it’ll be ‘humans with
machines,’ chasing the same ancient goal — to understand the world, and to make meaning from
the noise.
Reflections on Intelligence — Human and Artificial
26 Sunday Oct 2025
Posted in Mark
Human Learning as a Living Algorithm
By Mark White
The Algorithm in Us
Humans are, in essence, living algorithms. Our neurons fire and rewire, adjusting weights — not
unlike a neural network tuning its parameters — as we learn what works and what doesn’t. A child
touching a hot stove experiences the biological equivalent of a “loss function”: pain. The system
updates; behaviour changes. Dopamine rewards the good guesses; cortisol scolds the bad ones.
From these chemical nudges arises something we like to call “wisdom,” though it’s really a very
elegant feedback loop in disguise.
The Algorithm Beside Us
Meanwhile, large language models — the GPTs of the world — learn through a similar rhythm:
feedback, adjustment, prediction. Feed them vast rivers of text and they become astonishingly good
at mimicking understanding. They don’t feel, but they approximate thought by seeing patterns we
never consciously notice. They don’t know what love or grief mean, but they can assemble the
linguistic architecture of both with uncanny precision. It’s as though we’ve built an echo chamber so
refined that it now hums back at us, speaking in our cadence, reflecting our logic, and — sometimes
— our folly.
The Key Difference: Emotion and Embodiment
Where the mirror ends, life begins. Humans don’t just process data; we inhabit it. We don’t merely
predict the next word — we care about how it sounds, feels, and lands in another heart. Emotion
gives our internal algorithm a sense of purpose. Without it, intelligence is sterile; with it, intelligence
becomes art. LLMs, for all their brilliance, remain untouched by sensation. They don’t have skin in
the game — literally.
The Synthesis
And yet, perhaps that’s the beauty of this moment in history. We’ve built something that forces us to
look inward. AI doesn’t threaten our humanity; it defines its edges. It reminds us that cognition
without compassion is just computation. The more we refine our algorithms, the more we are
reminded that we are the original learners — the flesh-and-blood prototypes of pattern recognition
and meaning-making.
Closing Thought
So, yes — humans learn through algorithms, and algorithms learn through humans. The difference
is that one dreams. And that, as any poet or programmer will tell you, is where the code stops and
consciousness begins.
Foodge is Muted
26 Tuesday Sep 2023
Posted in Big M, Foodge Private Dick
Written by Big M
“Christ!” Foodge thought as he wandered out of the Small Claims Tribunal. Judge Bored had confounded the whole ‘Does God exist?” question with a whole bunch of too and fro, in and out and up and down legal buggery.
“You called?” Said a gentle voice inside Foodge’s noggin.
“Who’s that?” Thought Foodge.
“Jesus, you did call out my name.”
“I’ve yelled out ‘Jesus’ quite a few times, but He’s never answered.” Thought Foodge.
“You’ve never been struck mute during a metaphysical crisis, before. This is a battle of Good versus Evil, God against Satan, Holden versus Ford, AFL against Rugby League!” Said Jesus.
Foodge was discombobulated. He had planned to go back to the Pigs with Gordon O’Donnell, listen to some Hanks Williams and get shit-faced drunk, just like every other day. “Fuck.” He thought. It was bad enough being a one dimensional fictional character but, being caught up in a metaphysical crisis whilst being struck mute sounded distinctly unpleasant. Foodge wasn’t looking where he was going and stumbled into the Clerk of the Court. “Mmmm, oooh, mmmm, ahh.” He mumbled. “Shit.” He thought. “When he said mute, I thought he meant metaphorically, not literally, or metaphysically!”
The clerk quickly excused himself, likely assuming that Foodge had already had a skin full. Foodge stumbled down the old stone steps, nearly running into a nun. “Oh, mmmm.” He mumbled while gesturing towards the taxi rank.
“Oh you poor fellow!” Exclaimed the nun. “Where’s your carer?”
Foodge gesticulated towards the taxi rank.
“The bastards taken off in a taxi.” Sister Philomena of the Immaculate Lactation was one of those stout, bosomy capable sort of nuns. She grabbed Foodge by the hand and hailed down a taxi. “Where d’you live, love?” She enthused.
Foodge suddenly realised that absolutely no one could understand him. He scribbled an address on a piece of paper and shoved it in the sister’s free hand. Soon they were spending towards the Pigs. Of course, Jesus was still in his head trying to get him on the side of God, goodness and love in the fight against Satan, evil and hatred. “The good Sister will guide you onto the path of Righteousness.” Whispered Jesus. Foodge wasn’t paying much attention, he was busily trying to picture Sister Philomena sans habit.
They pulled up in front of the pub. Foodge managed to pay the taxi with his card, then found himself being dragged into the Gentleman’s Bar. “Poor bugger.” Philomena exclaimed. “All the poor bugger can afford is a room in a run-down pub! The way we treat the disabled in this country.”
Merv barely looked up from polishing schooner glasses with a dirty rag. “Pint of Trotters, Foodge?”
Foodge nodded, struggling to break the Good Sister’s grip. “Oooh, ahhh.”
Merv looked up. “Looks like you’ve pulled….a drink for the sheila?”
I’m not a sheila, I’m a nun, and I could murder a pint of something dark and mysterious!”
Merv pulled a pint of Granny’s Porter. “Shit, a nun, I thought you were a stripper!”
“That was in a former life, dear. Now I’m in the service of the Lord.” The good sister downed the pint, placed it on the bar and nodded towards the tap. Merv obliged, pushing another glass canoe across the sticky surface of the bar. “This poor disabled chap seems to think that he lives here. Is that correct?”
“Foodge, disabled?” Laughed Merv. “He’s the finest legal mind this side of the Supreme Court, although he does come off as a buffoon.”
“What about his speech impediment?”
“What speech impediment?” Merv hadn’t yet noticed Foodge’s Umming and oohing.
“He’s mute.” Philomena hadn’t witnessed such disregard for a fellow human’s condition.
“Oh, shit. That’s probably something to do with Gordon O’Donnell. He’s probably a mission from GOD.” Merv thought he sounded like a Blues Brother as he said it.
“Do you chaps know Gordon O’Donnell?” The good sister grew pale.
“She yeah, he drinks here most Sundays. Used to come in with a bloke named Father O’Way and sometimes the Bish.”
Philomena crossed herself and gave the Rosary beads a quick spin. She muttered something about the most based vessels containing the finest wine. “There are cases where the Lord has afflicted a believer with some malady in order to enhance his or her ability to carry out the Lord’s work. This young man must be under the direction of the Lord. We need to find out what the task is and how we can best assist him.” She motioned for a pen and pad. “Now, Foodge, write down exactly what you think that GOD wants you to do.”
So Gordon O’Donnell is True
26 Monday Jun 2023
Tags
Spooky.
The Trial
17 Monday Apr 2023
Posted in Foodge Private Dick, Mark
Story by some bloke on a laptop, i.e. Mark
So today is the day when the trial begins, to see if God really exist? Alternatively, we can also ask is Satan real? Does anybody care? Well, I don’t. And I’m the author.
Foodge was sitting in the foyer. Glancing around at the crowd, pondering. Why are people coming here to see this particular trial?
Foodge started to feel for his hip flask. Then it occurred to him it was probably in his hip pocket. But it wasn’t. It was in his inside suit pocket. So he’s wondering, why don’t they call that an inside suit pocket flask? He took a surreptitious slurp. Just a steady the nerves, you know, he thought to himself. Keeping in mind that he didn’t want to use too many inverted commas.
Out of thin air, God appears. This doesn’t phase Foodge anymore. He’s seen it so many times with Gordon. You know, Gordon, the creator of the universe.
“How you doing?” God says.
“I’ve submitted our deposition and some good character statements from Mother Mary McKillop and Pope John Paul. How are Jesus and Ha… “
“Let’s be kind to them Foodge, and not go there.”
People enter the courtroom and take up their positions. The judge enters the Chamber. Everyone nods to the crown. The judge introduces himself as Lord Bored. At least we can see here that we have another campaigner against inverted commas. And look, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against inverted commas. Well, sort of.
“The case has come to the Small Claims Tribunal because the plaintiff is actually only asking for $1. So I want to remind you all that in this court, it’s my decision as the judge as to what actually happens. Now there are appellant courts that you can go to, but you won’t succeed. Let’s just be honest.” Crikey, a judge being honest.
“Each legal representative has deposited statements, references and the initial newspaper article in the Inner Cyberian Tribune. Representing God is Mr Foodge, and representing Satan is Mr Clancy Fancy-Pants. You are hereby right now told to stay quiet. I will now direct the Court in this process of legal defamation.” Foodge and Fancy-Pants look at each other with a distinct sense of amazement.
“But,” says Foodge and Fancy-Pants, “My Lord, surely, Hank… Jesus…”
“Stick with me and I must remind you that you have both just wasted some inverted commas. I will take that into consideration at the end of the trial” says Lord Bored, oblivious to the fact he has just used some inverted commas.
“So in my role is the overriding judge. I now call God to the witness box.”
The clerk approaches, “God, please place your hand on this book and tell us that you will tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help you, Gordon.” God looks at the book. And it’s Gordon’s book “Good Luck with That” that he’s now promoting. By the way, it is on sale at all good bookstores. “I do,” says God.
Judge Bored now gets into interrogation mode. “So God. How old are you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Where do you live?”
“ Above the clouds”.
“What’s your mum and dad’s name?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Thank you. You may now be seated.” Crikey, how many inverted fucking commas was that.
Satan is sent into the witness box.
The clerk approaches, “Satan, please place your hand on this book and tell us that you will tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So help you, Gordon.” Satan looks at the book. And it’s Gordon’s book “Good Luck with That” that he’s now promoting. By the way, it is on sale at all good bookstores. “I do,” says Satan.
Judge Bored now gets into interrogation mode. “So Satan. How old are you?
“I have no idea.”
“Where do you live?” “In a hole in the ground.” “ What’s your mum and dad’s name?” “ Oh, I don’t know.”
“Thank you.”
Wow. Lots of inverted commas and so far no Jesus and Han…
Judge Bored retires to the inner chamber to think about his decision. He later returns.
“OK, so this is my decision. God or Satan. No one has ever been able to prove either of you actually is real, whilst you’re deeply rooted in mythology your actual existence is factually, debatable.
Evidence is that neither of you exists and therefore is non-existent. Under section 37 of the Defamation and Other Evil Little Acts 1937, it says that unless you can prove that you are real, then you don’t actually have a case of defamation. I have decided to rule that this is a null and void case.
We’re facing a paradox. God and Satan cannot be proven to exist. But without each other, neither exists. There is a symbiotic relationship between these two that cannot be proved in this court. You cannot have God and deny Satan, and conversely, you cannot have Satan and deny God. The ultimate proof is unavailable or inconsistent or non-existent, therefore nobody now owes anybody anything. and the case is now over.”
Foodge is reflective outside the court. The decision was actually, very powerful. God decided that he was gonna pay Foodge anyway, but the money wasn’t important. It was the outcome. Good versus evil, God versus Satan. Manly versus anybody else. So it was just a really important case.
Gordon arrives at the court. Everybody else is gone, but Gordon goes up the Foodge and says, “Hey, Foodge, look, here’s my new book, “Good Luck with That”. It’s a book about space travel. And how incredibly boring that actually really is. Anyway, Emmjay has given me a lend of the Zephyr so let’s go to the Pigs Arms for a few post games ale. So how’s Hank Williams going?”
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 