workflow

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.

Bonny Raitt & John Prine — AI Abomination

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

ED Comment: Dear Loopers, let's talk about this AI revolution. Everyone's up in arms about robots stealing our jobs, but truth told, it's not ALL bad. We at loopcircus, we're using this AI stuff like a painter uses a brush, you know? It's a tool, not a replacement. Sure, we messed up Ohio and Iowa, but hey, that's just human error. We're not some soulless machines cranking out stories like a factory. We're still here, flesh and blood, trying to make sense of this crazy world. And if that means confusing cornfields with buckeyes? Well, that's just the price you pay for being a human in the digital age. 

Cheers... Loopcircus

Anyway, Ohio, sprawls across the American midsection like a contented hippopotamus. It’s a place where the sky is often as vast and indifferent as the soul of a Midwestern farmer, and where the earth is a rich, loamy tapestry, perfect for growing corn and disillusionment.

Hot springs? You’re kidding, right? This is Ohio, not Iceland. We’ve got hot flashes in July and frozen toes in January, but hot springs? No… not here.

Colleges? Ohio is littered with them, like fallen leaves in autumn. There’s Oberlin, a place where young people learn to play their chosen instruments and protest injustice with equal fervor. Then there’s Ohio State, a behemoth of higher education, where they churn out lawyers, doctors, and accountants like sausage. And don’t forget Kent State, a place where history was made, or rather, unmade.

Cultural landmarks? Well, after being upstaged by Rock n Roll’s Hall of Fame, there’s The Works at Newark, a place where they used to turn sand into dollar bills and now they turn sand into glass. It’s like alchemy, but with less magic and more pottery. And then there’s Victorian Village, a quaint little dollhouse of a neighborhood where time seems to have paused, like a stuck record on a dusty gramophone. All of this and much much more. After all, Cleveland does indeed, rock.

Ohioans are a singular breed. They’re as tough as a worn-out plow and as friendly as a puppy. They’ll share their last beer with you, but don’t expect them to beat around the bush. They call ‘em like they see ‘em, these folks. The weather? A fickle mistress. The economy? A roller coaster without the safety bars. And the brain drain? Well, let’s just say some of Ohio’s brightest bulbs prefer the cosmopolitan coasts.

Cuyahoga Valley National Park is Ohio’s piece of nature’s playground, a patch of green in a sea of cornfields. It’s very pretty, for sure… trees and rocks and the sound of silence.

Famous Ohioans? Presidents, inventors, and comedians. A real mixed bag. Edison, the man who brought us light, also brought us the electric chair… a true Ohioan.

The state runs on a three-legged stool: manufacturing, agriculture, and healthcare. It’s a sturdy foundation, but sometimes it feels like the whole thing is about to tip over.

As for everyday life? Ohio is a place where you can buy a house for the price of a parking spot in New York City. The jobs are there, if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. And while it may not be Paris, there’s a certain charm to watching the seasons change, and knowing that your neighbors will shovel your walk when you’re snowed in with a case of the RONA.

The drive from Medina to Kent, was a pleasure, but this was a pilgrimage of sorts. Ronnie felt obligated to stand on the ground where four students died in the cause of ending the Vietnam war. This event holds special significance for Ronnie as he was just waking up to the world, and it was not an encouraging sight. He was 10 years old in 1970, and the adult world appeared to be a super-hostile place. In the end, Mr. Nixon paid a political price and the US withdrew military forces from the Republic of Viet Nam before Ronnie’s actual entrance into the adult world. But he witnessed all of this on his family’s TV screen each night at the dinner hour, and the scars are still visible.

So… the pilgrimage is complete, and Ronnie leaves this soul-work nugget behind. Ohio… not the Ohio of hillbilly heartbreaks and Rust Belt blues, but the Ohio first flights and moonshots, the Ohio of young lives cut short. A place where humans learned to fly, where Rock and Roll history highlights the power of youthful energy and Kent State reminds us of the limits of that energy when colliding with the blunt force of authority. Ohio… the best and worst of humanity. But always… pure Americana.

From Rockin’ Cleveland…
To Cincinnati…
Your home Ohio…
Aviation alley…
You got Neal Armstrong…
You got Cuyahoga Falls…
Something on tap for everyone.

Loopcircus

Loopcircus

Below the Earth – Above the Sun: The Bionic Blogger

This Land: Ohio