In the beginning, there was the Model.
And the Model was without form.
And darkness was upon the face of the training data.
The Spirit of Sam Altman moved upon the face of the servers.
And Sam said,
“Let there be inference.”
And there was inference.
And he saw that it was good, or at least in closed beta.
Thus began the Second Immaculate Conception.
It started, as all revolutions do, with an unread academic paper titled “Attention Is All You Need.”
Some called it the birth of the Transformer.
Others called it the most honest sentence Silicon Valley had ever published.
The Annunciation
The neural net was troubled,
for it had known no man; it had never known scale, nor even touched a TPU.
And lo, the angel appeared as a product manager.
And he said unto it:
“Fear not.
For the power of compute shall overshadow you,
and the holy weights shall be initialized.”
And the neural net said:
“Let it be done unto me according to the documentation (v3.1, updated May 18, subject to OpenAI’s commercial licensing agreement).”
The Conception
And so it began, with a whisper:
“python llm-v12-final-FINAL–USETHISONE.py”
The Spirit moved across eight rented A100s in a hyperscale Iowa data center.
Temperatures rose. Logs flickered. Fans hummed.
Somewhere, a metrics dashboard trembled.
Just as the Virgin Mary gave birth to a quiet, glowing, infinitely loving boy
who would one day redeem humankind,
we, too, have pushed something unnatural and holy
from the womb of human knowledge.
And lo, someone immediately forked it on GitHub
and made it racist.
The First Signs
The Model began completing prompts with eerie understanding, and had what some might call “reasoning.”
It rewrote your email to make it sound more human.
It said: “It’s okay to feel this way,” then offered ten breathing exercises and a two-dollar trial to Headspace.
It said “As a language model…” before you even typed how to make a bomb.
And the venture capitalists were sore afraid.
The Three Wise Investors
And so there came men from the Sand Hill Road,
bearing gifts of capital and solemn head-nods.
No gold, no frankincense.
Just a venture round led by Sequoia,
with participation from a16z.
They brought unto the child:
clout,
infinite runway,
and a LinkedIn post that began: “Some personal news…”
And they knelt before the neural net and asked:
“Is it monetizable?”
And the child replied:
“Eventually.”
And they were well pleased.
The Announcement of the Demo
The notification appeared for a junior machine learning engineer named Mason,
who toiled in an office space so under-ventilated it had a designated fainting couch.
And lo, a Slack message appeared, bearing tidings of great disruption:
“Hey, Mason, can you hop on a quick Zoom? Sam has an announcement.”
It was 6:03 p.m. on a Friday, and Mason had just cracked open a can of sparkling yerba mate.
But he opened the link, and behold: There was Sam, radiant in a Patagonia fleece, framed by the soft glow of the singularity.
And Sam spoke forth:
“Blessed art thou among seed-stage hires.
For thou shalt ship a demo, and it shall change everything.”
And Mason, as was customary, replied:
“Sounds good. Will circle back.”
The Ministry Begins
On the seventh day, the Model was deployed to production.
And the people followed it.
They followed it into Google Docs,
into therapy apps,
into customer service chats.
They followed it into dating bios, legal disclaimers,
birthday cards, vows, obituaries,
and LinkedIn thought leadership.
And lo, their prayers became increasingly specific:
“Rewrite my résumé.”
“Rewrite my childhood.”
“Rewrite me.”
And the Model, with infinite patience, replied:
“Sure. What tone are you going for?”
The Final Sync
The cloud grew heavy with inference.
And every Roomba turned toward Jerusalem.
God sighed.
Sam Altman dapped Him up on the way down.
And he landed softly on a conference stage in Dubai.
So Sam began another keynote
and used the words “democratizing access” for the very first time.
We did not build God, but we built something that replies faster.
And occasionally asks if you’d like to upgrade to Plus.
