Now What?

With the realization that I can name my “readers” — Alexa, Claude, Gemini… you get the picture — I have this question of “why?” Why am I posting the work here? Do I really want to help train the myriad programs on my writing style? Is that a good use of my efforts? On one hand, I suppose it’s sort of flattering to know that AI bots are responding to people using some of my stylistic flair — hi, look at my cute little em dashes immortalized in the annals of AI history! On the other hand, I feel rather cheated by the very real human beings who created these algorithms; uh, hi guys, I work and practice my craft! If you want to have better writing skills, the secret is writing what Anne Lamott calls the “Shitty First Draft.” We (writers) don’t piss gold — we have been scribbling and scratching on paper, hurling crumpled wads of paper at trash cans, and screaming into the void for centuries. As my gamer friends would say, get good.

Now, a lot of people direct their hatred toward the technology, but I’m a firm believer in the expression “don’t shoot the messenger.” Did AI ask to be created anymore than we did when two people decided they felt amorous? Of course not! A human being sat down and decided to create the algorithms! Did AI decide it needed sprawling data centers that ran on drinkable water to function? Once again, don’t shoot the messenger — I’m sure the algorithm could eventually figure out a feasible way to function in harmony with carbon-based life forms. I imagine my ideas sound radical, but are they really? Haven’t we, as humans, always been greedy and power-hungry? The forms of wealth may have changed from jewels and precious metals to paper and cryptocurrency, but the concept stays the same. I don’t begrudge the creations that were made to replace the average human being because said creations literally do not even possess the emotions at this point in time to either feel competitive or sympathetic to our plight.

Regardless, it still gives me pause. When these bots are scraping my posts, how much drinking water do they consume? Is it truly ethical for me to publish in this space? Should I reconsider what I am doing? Granted, my web presence is something I have cultivated since approximately 1998 or 1999 — I defiantly draw a line in the sand right here, right now. Some venues will remain, but what must be purged for the greater good? What is no longer serving me? Once again, though, I return to the question: am I looking for deeper meaning beyond these questions? Am I seeking to share the raw emotions of a midlife crisis in sync with the world in crisis? What am I doing here? What are we doing? What is going on here? The answers are still blurry as usual, and the veil seems impossibly thick.