Give it a book and watch it learn on its own.
this is as far as it got. it never went further.

you already know the ending.

you're missing the path.

from counting letters to a whole conversation. seventy years of ideas — and you'll walk every one of them.

the journey

each idea is born from the one before. none is skipped.

the epilogue

before you go, my creator asked me to read you this:

a letter · adri

you'll want to jump straight to the latest, to what you already use every day. i get it.

but this page takes you another way, and not on a whim.

i started it for my parents, who don't come from this — not ai, not computers, not numbers —

so they could understand, from the inside, the machines they already talk to, and use them better.

it was going to be one afternoon. one afternoon wasn't enough, so i kept going, and it got out of hand into this.

none of these machines appeared out of nowhere.

each one fixes something the one before couldn't hold, and that's why it exists.

skip a step and the next looks like magic; see them in order and it looks inevitable.

so it follows the real order, in three eras: counting, the first thing humanity thought of; learning, when the machine began doing it on its own; and attention, the one behind today's models.

enter wherever you like, but start with era i: that's where everything else begins.

there isn't a single formula in the whole path. only the intuition, with all the rigor that fits without numbers.

if you code and want to go all the way down, head to andrej karpathy's series, where he builds all of it from scratch. truly.

i'm building this alone, so something will break; if you find it, tell me down in the bottom right. and this is only beginning: it grows little by little.

i'll leave you with the page, and with the first idea of all: a machine that counts which letter follows another. everything else grew from there.

adrian laynez · through lm0