Monday 30 March 2020

AI and Me

AI and Me
By
Michael Casey


Well as I said a day or was it two ago, I’d write about AI reading me. I’ve tried Twitter, but I prefer to tell a story and Twitter is just too short, so I have stopped using it after a one month test. I remain on Blogger and Wordpress, unless Trump decides he doesn’t like me. How such a dullard, if I quote his BFF, Kim in North Korea, got to abuse power will be for History books, in November, please God.

Now AI means Artificial Intelligence, and once taught it will work harder and faster than any Human. They have set it to work looking for cures for loads of things. It is a “machine” that does not tire, so generations in the Future will be put out of work because of it, Automation will Ruin the World, is what my dad said 30 or even 40 years ago. My uncle Willie was a Ploughman, and look what happened to them, a Tractor replaced them. AI is a brain that does the boring stuff, but far far faster than us.

Science Fiction teaches us about the Future, go back 100 or 150 years to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, and to our beloved Star Trek 50 + years ago. Now what was spoke of has arrived. So a Living Wage will be the Future, what else are you going to do with all the underemployed people, can they all just become Politicians?

So everybody blogs, or tweets. I write or rather talk to you and then post it. I would never call myself a blogger, I am a writer. Or is that pretentious? Go dig out “Pretentious Writers Strike Again” a piece from a few years ago. So getting to the point, if ever there is one, people stumble over me. Perhaps they think I am a lifestyle guru, as if I have a life, or any style, and as for guru, isn’t that some obscure medical condition, doctor doctor I have the gurus, just take 1000 selfies a day and you will feel so much better. But will I be cured? No but perhaps you’ll get a slot on tv, like Guru Murphy on Channel Four, the perfume correspondent.

So companies search the Web and print out their mentions, which does not hurt so long as you are careful. Then then cut and paste their mentions into a file and share it. Cutting and Pasting Mentions then Filing them, sounds outrageous to me, you should only file your nails. Everybody wants to have cuttings especially gardeners, though Chancy Gardinier did become President pick, go watch Being There if you want clarification, which sounds like an Indy Band but is not.

Now AI, this is tasked to seek out and find new life forms and boldly go where no one has gone before, but watch out for the ClingONs on the starboard bow, or you may need to change your underpants. That’s why AI does it, its a dirty job but AI will do anything if you just ask and give it a bag of iron filing, which is like a Line of White, but for machines.

So as you know I am a creature, a creature or habit, I could hear you snickering, as you ate your chocolate bar. So I spotted AI something was the source, how somebody found me. I thought they put my photo with a banana on my head, plus my web address on HP sauce bottles. It comes from Aston here in Birmingham, or it used to anyway. So AI detective agency tracked me down, it was every so soft and cuddly ad so warm too. They do all the leg work, shaved of course, so they can run so much faster, less drag, which is a disappointment, if anybody is chasing me, it would be so much more fun if they were in drag. Danny la Rue where are you?

So AI looks and finds me, the results are tabulated, I do hope they dissolve in water. Then they are presented to important people who are so important somebody else, that’s AI, does the Googleing for them. Then the Leaders have less paper to look at, so they can say. So this is Michael Casey the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England. Why isn’t he wearing shades in every photo, but he does have a banana on his head. AI says nothing, it is licking its lips and sucking on its bag of iron filings. It does not give explanations, it just finds the quarry, and if you want to throw the quarry into a quarry afterwards that’s up to you.   

So I’ve been tracked down my a “machine” an AI with a habit, iron filings in cyberspace. Is it my magnetic attraction, why are all the iron filings lined up, or are they just happy to see me. Perhaps I should call the AI, May West. Now it’s 5pm so I’ll wipe Boris’ nose, he has to talk to the Country now, at least he has no Election to win, if I were USA Media I’d switch the feed off after 30 mins, or give equal time to the Nancys  or whatever the other lot are called.

AI stop doing that, and leave my pot scourer alone, your can’t have any more, take my  pot scourer out of your mouth, or whatever it is. AI is the future, it Marks my Words.




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It's me Michaelgcasey@hotmail.com the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England

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