Dear MS Copilot, I Can Fucking Write
I’m fucking Gen X. I learned to write by hand, type on an actual typewriter, build an outline, stare at a blank page, fuck it up, crumple it up, and start again. AI can be an incredibly useful tool, but I’m not convinced we should outsource the basic human ability to take a thought out of our own heads and turn it into a fucking sentence.
The Algorithm Was Clearly Written by Men
ChatGPT keeps trying to murder the American paragraph. When I finally called it out, the resulting conversation was fucking hilarious, and inadvertently proved that artificial intelligence has mastered another distinctly human skill: admitting you’re right without ever actually apologizing.
Freedom at 75-Ish Miles Per Hour
A speed camera might look like a harmless tool for safer roads, but automated enforcement represents something much larger. It replaces judgment with machinery, due process with bureaucracy, and liberty with convenience. Government rarely takes freedom in one dramatic act. It takes it one camera, one database, and one automated citation at a time.
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.
AI Is a Tool
Artificial intelligence is a tool. A useful tool. A powerful tool. But like every tool, it has limitations. Mine seems particularly determined to turn me into a hairy biker named Randy, plaster motivational slogans on everything, and lecture me about conflict resolution every time I suggest solving a problem with a gun. A love letter, a rant, and a public roasting of AI, all rolled into one.
Compliance Is Not Care
I went into my medical records looking for information. I came out pissed off. At the top of every UNM Health record it says my name, my birthdate, and then, predictably, male. No way to fix it. No place to correct it. Meanwhile, the Catholic hospital somehow got it right. This is a story about that moment, and about the systems that insist on explaining themselves instead of listening.