Whatever programmers think about themselves and these towering logic-engines we’ve erected, we’re a lot more superstitious than we realize. We tell and retell this collection of unsourced, inaccurate stories about the nature of the world without ever doing the research ourselves, and there’s no other word for that but "mythology". Worse, by obscuring the technical and social conditions that led humans to make these technical and social decisions, by talking about the nature of computing as we find it today as though it’s an inevitable consequence of an immutable set of physical laws, we’re effectively denying any responsibility for how we got here. And worse than that, by refusing to dig into our history and understand the social and technical motivations for those choices, by steadfastly refusing to investigate the difference between a motive and a justification, we’re disavowing any agency we might have over the shape of the future. We just keep mouthing platitudes and pretending the way things are is nobody’s fault, and the more history you learn and the more you look at the sad state of modern computing the the more pathetic and irresponsible that sounds.

Mike Hoye, "Citation Needed"

It’s hard for me to believe that the IEEE’s membership isn’t going off a demographic cliff these days as their membership ages, and it must be awful knowing they’ve got decades of delicious, piping-hot research cooked up that nobody is ordering while the world’s coders are lining up to slurp watery gruel out of a Stack-Overflow-shaped trough and pretend they’re well-fed.

Mike Hoye, "Citation Needed"

Although we have no clear idea about the opinions of the illiterate majority, the Roman elite was generally dismissive of the myths... It was almost universally agreed that the gods existed—even Epicureans admitted that—but it was almost as universally thought that the myths misrepresented the gods. By the second century CE, most Greek and Roman intellectuals either rejected the myths outright (the Epicurean approach), allegorized them into philosophical respectability (the Stoic approach), or claimed that the traditional gods were not gods at all, but mischievous daimones—spirits of the air—sent by the actual gods (the Platonic approach). This last interpretation became increasingly popular in Late Antiquity, when Neoplatonism emerged as the dominant philosophical tradition. By the time Constantine became Christian, very few educated Romans took their myths literally.

Christianity merely added another layer of allegory to the traditional pagan approaches to myth. Christian scholars resurrected the ancient allegorizing approach we call euhemerism (which claimed that the traditional gods were ancient human kings and heroes), and enthusiastically endorsed the idea that at least some myths were based on the deeds of demons masquerading as gods. The myths also offered conveniently low-hanging fruit for sermonizing; in the City of God, for example, Augustine describes Romulus' murder of Remus as characteristic of the sinful earthly city.

Garret Ryan, addressing the question "The Roman founding myth seems to be directly related to their pagan religion. Once the Empire was predominantly Christian, how did they come to terms with their pagan origins? Did they change their founding myth?" on /r/AskHistorians

One must qualify that much of what is today called "artificial intelligence" is little more than traditional regression analysis, the basic technique taught in introductory statistics courses, but on an unprecedented scale and presence in daily life. None of this technology approaches the conscious, adaptive, reflective capacities often associated with the term, the kind we would find in 2001: A Space Odyssey's HAL 9000 or Star Trek's Mr. Data. The labeling of these techniques as "artificial intelligence" arises in part from the ideological aspirations of Silicon Valley and in part from its overhyped marketing, and so ought to be resisted. But for the sake of critique we will adopt it here.

Jon Askonas, "How Tech Utopia Fostered Tyranny"

The applicability of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to government sponsorship of residential segregation will make sense to most readers. Clearly, denying African Americans access to housing subsidies that were extended to whites constitutes unfair treatment and, if consistent, rises to the level of a serious constitutional violation. But it may be surprising that residential segregation also violates the Thirteenth Amendment. We typically think of the Thirteenth as only abolishing slavery. Section 1 of the Thirteenth Amendment does so, and Section 2 empowers Congress to enforce Section 1. In 1866, Congress enforced the abolition of slavery by passing a Civil Rights Act, prohibiting actions that it deemed perpetuated the characteristics of slavery. Actions that made African Americans second-class citizens, such as racial discrimination in housing, were included in the ban. In 1883, though, the Supreme Court rejected this congressional interpretation of its powers to enforce the Thirteenth Amendment. The Court agreed that Section 2 authorized Congress to “to pass all laws necessary and proper for abolishing all badges and incidents of slavery in the United States,” but it did not agree that exclusions from housing markets could be a “badge or incident” of slavery. In consequence, these Civil Rights Act protections were ignored for the next century.

Richard Rothstein, The Color of Law