Another peculiar — I prefer *idiosyncratic* — post this evening. Humor me? Yesterday I related an anecdotal jumble about gathering with friends, artificial intelligence, Essex, Westport, and a poem composed by ChatGPT. No clear takeaways. No conclusions. Just a voyeuristic glimpse into the overlap of buddies jawboning IRL and an AI chatbot weaving words into a midwinter mirage.
Here’s where I left off.
Perhaps like me, you’re a little wary of AI dabbling in the cultural and aesthetic arenas. An idea is percolating underneath my tangled mop, but I’m going to sleep on it. Morning might mature my perspective a few shades. And, so, without further ado, I’ll wrap up for the evening, inviting you to contemplate AI chat bots as fellow sojourners. Artificial intelligence offering us an ode to Essex. Thank you, ChatGPT. Thank you, Mark! (Source: A Place Where Stories are Told