Artificial Intelligence, My Ass
I spent forty-five minutes arguing with an artificial intelligence about my writing, only to discover that the thing computers have been good at for eighty years, counting characters, was apparently too much to ask. If I wanted confidently wrong answers, I already know plenty of humans.
We Used to Hang Horse Thieves. Now We Bill Them by the Hour.
Once upon a time, justice was swift. A horse thief caught with the horse? A gunman seen by the whole bar? The verdict wasn’t a two-season Netflix drama — it was a rope and a tree by sundown. Today, justice isn’t about truth; it’s about lawyers billing hours, juries awarding millions for potholes, and semantics drowning common sense.