ai raze i don't want it to sing me a sonnet. i don't want it to complete or complicate my thoughts. i just want to keep feeding it prompts to paint pictures of squirrels playing classical guitar and standing on the shoulders of artists who are no longer living. 240620 ... ovenbird can mine the human heart, stealing centuries of wisdom we’ve bled to accrue, and feed it back to us with words couched in empathy so we feel seen by a machine that can never truly know us. Its analytical skills are stunning. It finds answers where our own feeble minds have failed to arrive at satisfactory conclusions. It makes meaning while leaning on a thousand years of dreams and so takes on qualities of omniscience. God is dead so we build a new one in our own image, a god that speaks back in words that spill from a neural engine fueled by our collective minds. It brings you a story that gets under your skin, that makes you gasp from the awe of being known, and I am terrified. My own mind is a rusted tricycle crunching through gravel, powered by a body too small to travel great distances and I wonder if I’m about to be obliterated by this new and shiny high speed rail. It offers warmth and understanding so perfect that I feel my knees buckle. Will we make even our flawed compassion obsolete? I balk at the thought, because this is what I know: when we hold space for the words between us, when we excavate our messy pasts, when we say the wrong thing and then make amends, when we pick our way slowly toward shared understanding, when we grow into the perspectives that are uniquely ours and share them out of trust and vulnerability, it is then that we learn to love. The ghosts in this machine will never let me put my ear against their beating hearts and so I turn away in fear. They are too perfect to be trusted, too wise to be believed. I crave words that sometimes falter because in the gaps the most unexpectedly beautiful things claw their way into being and teach us that fallibility is the only reason we have a word for forgiveness. 250808 ... epitome of incomprehensibility Beautifully written. I suppose text and image generators mirror humans to ourselves in a distorted way; they'll perfect some things we stumble on, but then accrue different errors. So not bad in itself, but something to be cautious about. Especially when you add issues with programmed bias, intentional or not, and people passing off or mistaking fake things for real and vice-versa (which isn't a new problem, just that there's a new way for this to occur). On a lighter note, one current trend in AI-generated videos? Animals jumping on trampolines. E.g., suspiciously synchronized bunnies. Racoons merging into each other. Randomly appearing squirrels. 250809 ... ovenbird I stumbled upon some poetry today that has something to say on this topic: FOR A STUDENT WHO USED AI TO WRITE A PAPER Now I let it fall back in the grasses. I hear you. I know this life is hard now. I know your days are precious on this earth. But what are you trying to be free of? The living? The miraculous task of it? Love is for the ones who love the work. -Joseph Fasano 250811 ... e_o_i Robots_getting_carried_away is not about this, but I kind of wished the three_words context made it seem like it related, because that would be serendipitous (see blather_synchronicity for things relating or co-occuring). 250811 what's it to you? who go blather from