Have Your Bot Call My Bot

I just found that on one of my blogs I have to O.K. comments before they appear.  I didn't even know they were there. I just released them.  Glad to have seen them, too.  Evidence that I may still have an audience.  

"Have your chatbot contact my chatbot.  We should do lunch."

 I read an article yesterday that reported there is an app that can, with 99% accuracy, detect writing created by A.I.  You can subscribe to it for $20 a month. . . and I wonder why?  I mean, who needs to know?  I guess it might be handy for lazy teachers and professors who don't want to handle writing assignments effectively.  I thought about signing up for a month just to run my blog through the app.  I think my use of ". . ." and "--" and hanging italicized sentences might be mistaken for bot writing.  So I've read, anyway.  But nope, I swear, I am fucking up the writing all on my own.  But do I care if you are having A.I. write your memos, letters of recommendation, etc?  Not a bit.  Why would it matter?  After the bot has done your job, you still look it over and approve or disapprove of it like any good admin, right?  Back at the factory, after I left, they hired a VP with an Ed.D. who is as illiterate a person as you will ever read. Then--BOOM!--A.I.  Everyone knows she doesn't write her memos any longer.  It is a standing joke, one which has not raised her esteem in anyone's estimation.  Were I working there still, I'd have A.I. summarize her briefs so that I got the gist and not the bloviation.  

And I'd probably do something scandalous, too.  

I'm just a little scamp. 

But I don't really blame her.  Writing is fun until you have to do it.  Unless you adopt a character.  At lunch on Wednesday, my secretary and I were having a good laugh over the way I'd write return emails in response to some disgruntled complaint.  I would speak the words I was writing in the voice of a 1940's movie actor, many times William Powell in "The Thin Man."

"Dear Mr. Equitone, It has come to my attention. . . ."

It really helped make a miserable chore fun, and my secretary was always delighted.  She'd laugh and clap her hands in approval.  

"And so we will attend to this most pressing matter without delay.  Sincerely. . . ."

Those old actors were really something.  A.I. can't match them.  

I recently got fooled by some A.I. music, though.  Again.  Damn!

That same app that can detect A.I. writing is not very good at catching A.I. images.  But, and this was something new to me, A.I. companies are embedding secret codes in images that identifies them.  Hadn't thought of that.  If they can do that, doesn't it seem obvious that they can embed other codes, too?  

A.I. is watching you!  You can't escape.  

As I've said from the beginning, the people in charge of A.I. scare the shit out of me.  

"Dr. Eldon Tyrell.  CEO, The Tyrell Corporation.  Our Motto: MORE HUMAN THAN HUMAN!"

 Still, I like fooling around in it to make things.  I'm like J.F. Sebastian, "living a lonely, isolated life in the abandoned Bradbury Apartments."  

"I make friends. They're toys. My friends are toys. I make them. It's a hobby."

Rusted brandy in a diamond glass
Everything is made from dreams
Time made from honey slow and sweet
Only the fools know what it means

Temptation
Temptation
Temptation
I can't resist

What the hell, we might as well end on a song.  I've posted it before, but I'm not sure anybody listens to what I put here anyway.  I can say with great assurance, this isn't A.I. 

 

Temptation, temptation, temptation
Oh, temptation, temptation, I can't resist
I know that she is made of smoke
But I've lost my wayy

She knows that I am broke
So that I must play
Temptation, temptation, temptation
Oh, whoa, temptation, temptation, I can't resist 

Dutch pink and Italian blue
She is waiting there for you
My will has disappeared
Now my confusions oh so clear 

Temptation, temptation, temptation
Whoa, whoa, temptation, temptation
I can't reisist