Artificial Stupidity

 

As my friend and official blogger to the industry, George Tannenbaum, noted recently there's been a lot of chatter about AI lately. 

Being of significantly greater intelligence than I, he can speak about the latest iterations, throw in some tech mumbo jumbo, and elaborate on the many philosophical and spiritual implications of this growing and pervasive technology on humanity.

Me? I'd like to talk about my stupid AI driven Roomba. 

Actually, it's not even a Roomba. I had one of those and it would make a lot of noise. Moreover, because I could never figure out how to schedule the damn thing. It would go off at all hours of the night, start sucking on an errant shoelace and set off the internal Roomba Voice...

"Error, error. Please immediately get out of bed and yank this sneaker away from my sucking orifice!"

The Shark, a poor man's Roomba, is equally obnoxious. But thanks to advancements and the appearance of apps, I no longer need to program a schedule into the machine and can start the thing up with my iPhone.

But there is still no joy in Mudville as it often rolls right over spilled bread crumbs and doggie hairballs. Then I find find myself kicking the furry remains in its path. To no avail. And, it too has a penchant for shoelaces and a tendency to knock over paintings or artwork I have not yet got around to hanging up.

On another AI front, I keep getting these ads (thank you Big Algorithm) on my facebook feed that scream:

Write blog postings

Up to 10X faster

I don't know who needs to hear this, but I have no interest in writing my blog postings ten times faster. Nor am I interested in some machine, even with expertly calibrated flick flacks and Super Duper JavaScript, scripting my personal, sometimes overly personal, blog.

I'm sure AI could improve on my grammar. And correct my years long habit of mistaking an en dash for an em dash. I'm equally sanguine about AI's ability to write a devastating diatribe against the GOP and ex Precedent Shitgibbon given I have filled up two hard drives with said material.

But I wonder, could Wilson, or whatever the AI faux writer is called these days, pump out a readable or laughworthy piece on Caganers and the colorful poopenisms ("I have an Exit Interview with Mr. Brown") that always accompany my posts?

No thank you, AI, no thank you.