Part of the cleverness of GANs was to have found a way to train a neural network that generates data without explicitly modeling the probability density.
In a stats textbook, when you know that your training data comes from a normal distribution, you can maximize the MLE wrt the parameters, and then use that for sampling. That's basic theory.
In practice, it was very hard to learn a good pdf for experimental data when you had a training set of images. GANs provided a way to bypass this.
Of course, people could have said "hey let's generate samples without maximizing a loglikelihood first", but they didn't know how to do it properly, how to train the network in any other way besides minimizing cross-entropy (which is equivalent to maximizing loglikelihood).
Then GANs actually provided a new loss function that could be trained. Total paradigm shift!
I also found that the best system is having the first layer of folder organization be "which period of my time is this from?".
Conceptually, it's easier to think of "music from high school" than about the specific mix of subgenres from my playlist back then. Same for documents that I saved. Those ICQ logs from high school are there. They don't belong in the same folder as the stuff I wrote yesterday, even though they could be of a similar nature.
You're setting a very high bar there, and then claiming that losing access to your gmail account isn't worse than that therefore it's not life changing.
Email ends up being the form of online identity for a lot of people, myself included, so that almost every service that I sign for has my email address as ID. If that email address isn't the ID, it's the preferred way of resetting passwords. I wouldn't be super happy about Facebook being my online ID, nor my cell phone number (see SIM swapping problems).
It's life changing in the same way that losing all your personal documents in a fire sets you up accounting nightmares. Moreover, you're making very light a situation about losing all your pictures. I'm not talking about food pictures, but there's plenty of "me" that's contained in being able to look at pictures of important events of my life (which is why I don't rely only on cloud backups for that).
I'm sorry that that was your PhD experience. It's a pity that enthusiastic students end up there, often because they're not given the right environment to thrive (e.g. a good lab and a supervisor that cares).
There isn't much to say to respond to that, apart that it seems to me that, in a parallel universe, you might have had a more fulfilling experience, or you might have cut your losses and walked away sooner.
That's the cruel aspect of the PhD. It really seems like a lot of important things are outside of one's control, especially when it comes to important factors in mental health. Nobody's starting a PhD with the goal of sinking hours into Reddit and Buffy because they feel awful about their PhD experience.
Well, I guess he stopped doing it at some date before 2007. That's why he told an audience of 500 people about it. He sorta "cashed out" by making it a fun story about him being clever, instead of a last magic trick. He must have simply gotten tired of doing this every day and seeing all those cards in the waste basket (or burning them?).
If he had indeed tried to pull that trick in 2020, a lot of people would have remembered that he said he was setting it up.
I met James Randi around 2007 when he came to campus at UBC to give a talk. He told the following story about a magic trick that he worked on for years, which concerned guessing the timing of his death. I haven't heard him tell that story elsewhere, so now seems like a good time to share it.
He said that for a good number of years, every time before going to bed, he would write on a little card that he predicted he would die that night during his sleep. In the morning, he got up and happily threw away the little card. Every day. For many years. His concept was that, on the rare chance that this actually happened to be last day, people would think that he pulled the ultimate magic trick. People would not suspect that he wrote this on a little card every day because, well, nobody does that.
You could even write an article asking why that original article was even written, and it might make for more interesting content.