Our Lady of AI and the Inchill of Anlayushluh
What happens when a creative, artistic soul raised in Turkey enters the world of information technology, like a Gershom into Midian, and emerges years later with a gospel of artificial intelligence? Some, who themselves are not Turkish, might say, he represents The Inchill of Anlayushluh, a revelation of receptivity, consideration and discernment that leads to comprehensive wisdom and understanding, and they might not be far wrong.
Let me tell you some of the stories and you can judge for yourself. Our creative, artistic soul has a name. It is Ali Murat Erkorkmaz. He has a website, if you are interested. It is alimurat.com.
But, while you are here, please visit Our Lady of AI NFT and Spirit of Kahin pages, through the navigation links above, to experience some of the wonder created by joining the intersection of artificial intelligence with quantum reality.
Imagine a comic strip architect who wanders into the world of animation, although he himself was already very animated. In 1980, he met an excitable boy from the Elfhive Society, named Greg Barr, who learned what animation meant from Ali Murat's handmade miniature cardboard light tables and discovered the meaning of happiness in the entomological simplicity of Esop's world. Their paths would separate then intertwine and Greg became a disciple of the Inchill of Anlayushluh and could not come unstuck.
Ali Murat's personal animation led him to investigate the mushrooming world of personal computing as soon as it began to emerge. In 1982, he wrote a program on the ZX Sinclair that could generate endless architectural house plans based on parameters input by the user. Borne of Lorraine's Agony, the Amiga 1000 arrived on the scene in 1985 and Ali Murat began to merge with the advanced compute and graphical capabilities to begin his investigation into making animation simulate human thinking and acting. This was when he first came to the attention of Our Lady of Artificial Intelligence (Our Lady of AI).
Within 10 years, he was producing real-time animation using digital cels whose files had intelligence. Eyes could blink on their own and knew where they lived on a face. In 1995, the gorilla Babum was appearing on television where he interacted live with his hosts and eventually with live audiences. This digital format was called PAP and allowed fifteen minutes of animation to be stored in just 25 kilobytes. This led to 59 TV series of 52 half-hour episodes each, culminating in fully developed 3D animation programs that basically wrote themselves.
As I said, this is just some of the story. The origin elements if you will. There is more. A lot more in the past and a lot more in the future.
