COVID

Below the Earth – Above the Sun: The Bionic Blogger

A few days ago, i stumbled upon a digital mirage, a phantasmagoria of AI-generated imagery that sent shivers down my spine (see below). These spectral apparitions, purportedly depict John Prine and Bonnie Raitt together at a 1970 folk music festival. As you can see from the real 1970s image, the AI version is nowhere near accurate. This is a stark reminder of the rapid adoption of artificial intelligence creating “deep fakes” designed to alter history. At first glance, the images were mildly compelling because they kept appearing in my news feed. And as we know from real, even recent history, a lie repeated enough times can take hold in the public’s imagination, eventually seen as truth. Yet, a closer inspection of this particular deep fake reveals a grotesque parody of reality.

Not Bonny and John
AI Abomination
Bonny Raitt & John Prine
John & Bonnie (for real)

Now, i’ve long been a devotee of digital tools, embracing their potential to enhance my creative process. In fact, before the COVID/RONA pandemic, i considered myself an optimistic “5th Estate Evangelist”. From cloud service audio mastering, to grammar checkers, and voiceover generation using my own voice as a model, AI has become an indispensable part of my workflow. And now, with the exponential improvement of AI-generated imagery, i venture further into this brave new world. But the specter of inauthenticity looms large, casting a shadow over the application of these powers.

It’s a strange paradox, this symbiotic relationship between human and machine. We rely on AI to augment our abilities, to extend our reach, to expedite our tasks. Yet, we risk the atrophication of our native creativity, in the process, becoming mere conduits for the algorithmic output of distant server farms simulating the creative power of their human users.

The abovementioned deep-fake creepfest is a reminder; as we navigate this increasingly complex digital terrain, we must remain vigilant. We must not allow ourselves to be seduced by the siren song of technological disassociation. We must cultivate critical eyes, ears, discerning minds, and a heapin’ helpin’ of skepticism.

In the end, it’s the human touch that gives psychosocial relevance to our work. It is the cultural perspective, the emotional depth, the idiosyncratic style that sets us apart from non-human forms of sentience (animal or machine). Let us not sacrifice true human qualities on the altar of efficiency. Let us embrace the imperfections, the quirks, the idiosyncrasies that come with messy humanity. We should do everything we can to see AI as no more or less than a collection of tools available to help us reach our own creative potential in faster, more evocative ways.

And so, i shall continue to tread a cautious path, balancing the allure of AI with the enduring force of my uniquely creative impulses. I will strive to create material that is emotionally evocative, informative, inspiring, engaging, and thought-provoking. In addition, i will strive to maintain authenticity, a connection to my unique synergy with the real world.

Onward through the fog… Ron, Rohlfie, and Ronnie Hays

Adieu Appointment Learning?

The RONA, bless its little viral heart, knocked the stuffing out of American education. Kids aren’t going back to school like they used to. Sneezy little disease vectors staying home at the first sniffle, coughing up a lung… hell, who can blame ’em? COVID’s still skulking, like the boomer remover in a local senior living center, and who wants to play the odds with that?

So, here we are, perched on the edge of a dilemma sharper than a truckload of number 2 pencils. On the one hand, those brave souls we call “teachers” sweating it out in overcrowded classrooms, getting paid less than a burger flipper’s shift manager. On the other hand, kids learning that a sneeze equals a week of Netflix and chill.

The powers that be are wailing like banshees, spitting and sputtering about “learning loss” and “the future of the nation.” We gotta get kids back in those desks, butts in seats, eyeballs glued to chalkboards and standardized tests, they say, or the whole country’s going to the dogs. It’s a crisis, loopers, a catastrophe grander than a politician caught red-handed taking bribes out in the open.

But here’s where things get truly absurd. See, those lessons we’re learning? They’re upside-down and inside-out, like a kid wearing pajamas to the prom. We should be looking at all this pandemic shuffling as an opportunity, a chance to blow the lid off the ol’ education factory. Instead, we’re hellbent on dragging ourselves back to the days of packed classrooms smelling of chalk dust and Adderall.

Meanwhile, those tech wizards are cackling in their Silicon Valley lairs. Turns out, those AI thingamajigs they’ve been cooking up can write a better essay than half the kids in the country and do algebra faster than you can say “quadratic equation.” So what are we doing? Cramming those very kids into classrooms like sardines, ignoring the world changing faster than a chameleon with a mood ring.

It’s enough to make a sane person break out the moonshine and howl like an American Werewolf in London. We gotta stop this lunacy, ditch the ridiculous race for the hippest school with its beanbag chairs and faux-Zen meditation rooms. It’s time to use the tools the future’s tossed in our laps, to forge a new kind of learning, where kids aren’t just memorizing dates and formulas, but figuring out how to survive in this crazy, hyper-connected world.

Forget those old-timey classrooms, let’s turn the whole damn planet into a schoolhouse!