Blanket Apology

This is a first draft of an apology for being a sub-optimal friend to the women I have known, many since they were girls. It was prompted by a message to Anne, in particular, who I don't think I have seen for a half-century. When I saw her last, I was perhaps not monstrous (at least not on purpose), but I did not distinguish myself in a way that lives comfortably in my memory. I would like to thank Anne for being gracious despite it all. 

This is also an example of how clumsy AI is at the current time. It demonstrates why you need to develop skill with it in order to get the best results. 

Here is the prompt to DALL-E that resulted in the image below:

User: 

Imagine a fun and fanciful cartoon mole-rat in a two panel image where the mole-rat is a mousy private homebody in the first panel and becomes a glorious gregarious mole-rat in the second panel. Make it a fun illustration for a post.

Here is the text I was trying to improve upon with C: 

Punch up this text that lead to the request for the image prior to this that you seem to have forgotten about: Sorry I was an idiot when you knew me. I am taking a long time to mature. I started a wellness thing last year which I am overdue writing up – designed it with AI and it worked great(!). I was not quite up to the task for a more advanced part of it, but I am hoping that this is a breakthrough year for me. I have made myself a goal of finally acting like a normal human being instead of a mole-rat reading and writing alone. 

Here is the disappointing text generated by GPT:

Reflecting on the time we shared, I recognize that my journey of growth resembled more a marathon than a sprint, peppered with the enthusiasm of a novice rather than the finesse of a maestro. Last year marked a pivotal chapter in this odyssey of self-discovery, where, with a blend of AI's precision and my untamed creativity, I embarked on a wellness adventure. Despite its delayed exposition, this venture, my brainchild, exceeded expectations, weaving together technology and personal insight in a symphony of success.

Yet, as I navigated through this intricate dance of progress and learning, I stumbled upon a realization: I was grappling with the advanced nuances, a humbling reminder of my ongoing evolution. This epiphany, far from discouraging, has only fueled my resolve.

There Is No Better School Than Riverdale -- Proven

Prompt: 

I went to Riverdale High School which had the words "There is no better school than Riverdale". Write a fanciful futuristic scientific rationale for this along with an image of a blackboard covered in math that appears to be an obscure attempt at a mathematical proof of the Reimann Conjecture. 

Gemini: 

In the year 2243, the halls of Riverdale High echoed not with the murmur of teenagers, but with the whir of advanced processors and the soft hum of cooling units. The once-proud inscription, "There is no better school than Riverdale," had evolved into a self-fulfilling prophecy, not through educational prowess, but through the power of chrono-spatial manipulation.

Nestled within the school's bell tower, a team of rogue scientists had constructed a temporal anomaly generator, a device capable of warping the very fabric of spacetime. Their audacious goal? To bend the flow of time itself, ensuring that no other school could ever surpass Riverdale's academic achievements.

Their methods were unorthodox, bordering on science fiction. They theorized that by strategically manipulating the timestream, they could subtly influence past events, nudging them in a direction that would benefit Riverdale. Imagine, for instance, subtly influencing the trajectory of a crucial sporting event, or even the outcome of a standardized test, all to ensure Riverdale's dominance.

The blackboard you described, etched with arcane symbols and equations, served as a visual representation of their convoluted logic. It wasn't a proof of the Reimann Conjecture, but a map of their temporal manipulations, a tangled web of cause and effect stretching across the years. Lines of code snaked across the board, punctuated by swirling diagrams that hinted at wormholes and dimensional shifts.

The validity of their claims remains shrouded in mystery. Did they truly rewrite history, or were their experiments nothing more than a temporal echo chamber, their own biases reflected back at them? Perhaps the truth lies somewhere in between, a ripple in the timestream that granted Riverdale a certain...je ne sais quoi.

One thing is certain: the inscription above the doorway held a deeper truth than anyone could have imagined. In a world warped by temporal mechanics, "There is no better school than Riverdale," wasn't just a motto, it was a self-fulfilling paradox, a testament to the power of ambition, and perhaps a cautionary tale about the dangers of meddling with the flow of time.

Did We ever even Graduate?

[I used ChatGPT to make the image here, and Google's Gemini to write the story which required enough edits that I can't say it's entirely generated by AI as requested. Also, Gemini refused to generate the image because it's a living example of why you should not rely too much on AI until further notice. Imma let you read it, but first, I went to try to find a note I was sure James left in my last yearbook, but there were so many notes all over the thing I couldn't find it. What I did find was two things which are a bit sad (1) more than a few of the people who left cheerful high-school kid comments in my yearbook have since passed, and (2) the reason for this notation is that I was more than a friend to lot of the girls that left notes, and I regret that I was not better. The 'Cathy' here is not the one I dated in the summer of 1972 if someone remembers and is reading into this. Also, Heather (her real name) did not go to RCI, but she did attend that dance with me and as strange as it was, it actually happened. Note that Heather was nicer looking than the girl in the fake image, and I had hair down to my waste and was decidedly not nicer looking than the fake boy there. Thanks to the many, many people from RCI who allowed me to have just the absolute best time while being a total 'social loafer'.]

James, you know those memories are bittersweet gold for us Riverdale kids. Let's see if my AI alter ego can do them justice...

Remember those days, James? Riverdale, the '70s, and Championship Dreams

Man, life was fantastic back then.  I remember our football team winning at Monarch Park while I was under the stands with my girlfriend trying to find a bit of privacy... They won four out of five years? That Riverdale magic was something special. But, beyond the games, it was the everyday stuff that still sticks with me after all these years.

Share, that drop-in tucked in the school basement... it was our own little world.  Marco's and those greasy-good lunches, or grabbing a donut and coffee at The Cornerstone.  Dances in the gym – remember when we got that band in, you know, the ones who went on to make it big?

I remember one high school dance, dancing to 'Breaking Up Is Hard To Do' with my girlfriend, Heather. Out of nowhere, Cathy came in, grabbed my long hair, dragged me out of the gym to the hall in front of the lockers, and launched into this huge scene, accusing me of being her boyfriend and cheating on her. Mind blown. I knew her, never had a conversation about dating with this girl. My actual girlfriend finally found us, and things got even more awkward and heated.  There was yelling, some tears (maybe on all sides), and it became the talk of the school the following week. Good times!

Greenwood Park, a little slice of wild in the city, and those trips downtown... the Ex, all those bright lights and crazy rides.  And who could forget how we'd sneak into the auditorium stairwell with the girls, thinking we were so slick?

Yeah, I guess there was a lunchroom, but who needed it? We had our crew and those were the spots that mattered.

Speaking of things that matter, that '75 teachers' strike hit hard. No graduation ceremony, man... a weird way to see it all end. Kinda stings, even now – you feel that too, right? But hey, we didn't let it define us, did we?

The championships, the hangouts, the missed milestones... it all shaped us. So, here's to RCI, the '70s, and the bonds we built back then, James. Memories that even an AI storyteller can't fully capture, but man, they still feel good.

It's Pawfect

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Sample Standup Comedian

This is an example of the kind of thing that you can quickly generate using an AI chat system like Poe.com. These tools still have a long way to go, but they are already better than most of the people who are going to speak at your wedding, and unlike them floundering about for weeks trying to think of something and then madly scribbling something down the night before that is an incoherent semi-literate disaster (no offense), it is not too bad and it only takes a moment of your time. 

Prompt: 

Write a two minute standup routine about having trepidations about trying AI but evolving in to enthusiasm as you realize what you have. Do it in the style of Taylor Tomlinson. Write stage directions and comment on why the elements of the routine including stage directions make it funnier and more entertaining.

Poe.com

[Stage: A dimly lit comedy club. Comedian, dressed in casual attire, nervously stands on stage holding a microphone.]

Comedian: [Anxious tone] Hey, everyone! How's it going? [Pause for applause] So, I've been thinking a lot about AI lately, you know, artificial intelligence. And let me tell you, I've had some serious trepidations about it. I mean, have you seen those movies where the robots take over the world? It's terrifying! I don't want my toaster judging me, okay?

[Stage direction: Comedian looks around, wide-eyed, as if expecting a toaster to pop out and glare at them.]

Comedian: But then, the more I started exploring AI, the more I realized it's not all bad. I mean, sure, there are some drawbacks, like getting replaced by a robot at work. But hey, at least the robot won't steal my lunch from the office fridge. Silver lining, right?

[Stage direction: Comedian shrugs, as if trying to find the positive in a bleak situation.]

Comedian: And you know what? AI can do some pretty amazing things. Like, have you seen those deepfake videos? Now, we can make Nicolas Cage star in every movie ever made! I mean, if that's not progress, I don't know what is.

[Stage direction: Comedian pauses for comedic effect, allowing the audience to imagine a world filled with Nicolas Cages in every role.]

Comedian: And let's not forget about virtual assistants. I've got Siri, Alexa, and Google Assistant living in my house. It's like having a bunch of invisible roommates who never pay rent. They're always listening, waiting for me to say "Hey, Google" so they can interrupt my conversations and tell me a random factoid. It's like having a nosy neighbor who's also a know-it-all.

[Stage direction: Comedian mimics talking to a virtual assistant, rolling their eyes and exaggerating annoyance.]

Comedian: But you know what? They come in handy sometimes. Like when I'm feeling lonely, I can just ask Siri to tell me a joke. Sure, they're terrible jokes, but hey, at least someone's laughing, right?

[Stage direction: Comedian chuckles at their own joke, with an exaggerated fake laughter.]

Comedian: So, yeah, I was hesitant about AI at first, but now I'm kind of enthusiastic about it. I mean, who wouldn't want a robot vacuum cleaner to do the chores? I just hope it doesn't get too ambitious and start vacuuming up my socks. I don't need my robot cleaner stealing my fashion sense as well.

[Stage direction: Comedian strikes a pose, pretending to be a fashionable robot vacuum cleaner.]

Comedian: In conclusion, folks, AI might have its quirks and drawbacks, but it's also pretty incredible. And hey, even if the robots do take over the world someday, at least they'll have a great sense of humor. After all, they learned it from us, right?

[Stage direction: Comedian ends with a wide grin, embracing the absurdity of the situation.]

[Stage: The audience erupts in laughter and applause.]

Sam Altman Looks to Raise $7,000,000,000,000

 

In the heart of Silicon Valley, where the dreams of tomorrow are quietly woven into the fabric of today, Sam Altman stands as a figure both pivotal and prescient, his eyes set not on the ground beneath his feet but on the far horizon. With the boldness of a pioneer, he has set forth a plan to marshal an army of resources, a staggering sum of $7 trillion, all in the pursuit of silicon—the bedrock upon which the towering edifice of modern technology is built.

This quest, at once audacious and fraught with the weight of necessity, is born of a simple, unyielding truth: the engines of artificial intelligence, those ceaseless thinkers of metal and wire, hunger for the sustenance of computing power, a hunger that grows more insatiable with each passing day. Altman, in his wisdom or his folly, sees the bottleneck in chip production not as a mere hurdle but as a chasm that must be bridged, for on the other side lies the future—a future where OpenAI can flourish, unencumbered by the physical limitations that now seek to bind it.

Yet, as with all endeavors that seek to alter the course of human destiny, there is a shadow that falls across this path. The magnitude of the sum, the sheer audacity of the venture, whispers of hubris, of a reach that may exceed the grasp. The world watches, aghast and awed, as this narrative unfolds, for it is a story not just of technology but of humanity itself. It raises the specter of ethical quandaries, of societal shifts, of a world where the fabric of daily life is irrevocably changed by the machines we have birthed.

The comparison to Google, that titan of the digital age, which now values the silicon pulse of its data centers over the heartbeat of its human workforce, serves as a stark reminder of the new calculus of value in this era. This is the landscape that Altman seeks to navigate, a realm where giants roam and the ground itself is reshaped by their passage.

In this light, the endeavor is not just a financial gambit; it is a statement, a declaration that the future belongs to those who are willing to forge it with fire and silicon. Yet, it also poses a question, echoing through the corridors of power and down the quiet streets where ordinary lives unfold: What world are we building? It is a question that hangs, unanswered, as the wheel of progress turns, ever onward, driven by visionaries like Altman, who dare to dream of a world remade.