Thursday 16 March 2023

"MAYBE IF WE START TELLING PEOPLE THE BRAIN IS AN APP THEY WILL START USING IT"

Posting frequency and quality is declining in this little blogging community. Even I struggle sometimes to find something interesting to share, hence yesterday's post about my sore toe. At least I keep up the frequency though unlike some bloggers I could mention ... actually I will mention them: Richard of Richard's Bass Bag and Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner and toilet cleaner (don't ask).
Richard used to write fairly long and fairly interesting posts about a range of subjects but recently the frequency has declined and the content is usually about his music whether it be practising for a gig or jam, fretting (see what I did there?) over a gig or jam and then lamenting over the said gig or jam and avowing never to do it again.

Robert's posts, while being a little more frequent nowadays, still get deleted regularly so it's two steps forward and one step back all the time. The posts are invariably about: catholicism and its arcane rituals including mass and communion; cleaning houses; what he is going to cook for dinner; obscure and made-up saints and dodgy religious people; Trent Horn and other suspect catholic apologists and daily dipping in a children's paddling pool which apparently never gets the water replenished. It must be like taking your life in your hands at the risk of faecal and bacterial contamination as dipping your fingers in that silly blessing font at the front of catholic churches.
Anyway, moving on.

Richard defaults in his posts to what he calls parallel universing but is really just stealing the best bits from my blog posts and using them to pad out a post.

Robert, when he runs out of ideas simply copies and pastes long transcripts from catholic publications, prayer books or from his favourite poets like Coleridge and McGonagall.

I don't know why they just don't use OPEN AI's ChatGPT and get the artificial intelligence platform to write stuff for them - it could only be an improvement.

With this in mind I asked ChatGPT to write a couple of poems for these jokers.
For Richard I asked for a poem about bass written in the style of T.S. Eliot and for Robert a poem about Jesus written in the style of William McGonagall. It only took seconds for this excellent (and dangerous) application to come up with these:


FOR ROBERT


Oh, Jesus Christ, the son of God,

Who walked upon this earth we trod, With love and kindness in his heart, He taught us all to do our part.

From humble birth in Bethlehem, He came to save us all from sin, And though he faced much trial and strife, He brought us hope and eternal life.

He healed the sick, the blind, and lame, And preached to all in his father's name, His words were wise and full of grace, And in our hearts, they hold a special place.

With thorns upon his head, he died, And all the world stood still and cried, But on the third day, he rose again, To show us all that death is not the end.

So let us honour Jesus Christ, The one who gave us love and light, And strive to follow in his way, As we walk through life from day to day.

The app captured McGonagall's pithy prose and childish scan very well. Hat's off to it.


FOR RICHARD


In the stillness of the night,
Amidst the shadows and the light,
A bass guitar begins to hum,
Its deep vibrations thrum and drum.

With each note plucked from its strings,
A melancholy melody sings,
Of all the sorrows and the woes,
That only those who listen knows.

The bass player's fingers deftly move,
As if some unseen force doth prove,
That music is the soul's release,
A balm for pain, a soothing peace.

Yet in the midst of all this sound,
A sense of quiet does abound,
As if the bass were but a part,
Of some much larger work of art.

And so it goes, this endless song,
A symphony that's deep and strong,
In which the bass doth play its part,
And touches each and every heart.

For in the music of our lives,
There are no losers, only strives,
And in the bass, we find the key,
To unlock our humanity.

So let the bass guitar's sweet sound,
In T.S. Eliot's style resound,
And let its notes forever be,
A tribute to our destiny.


I'm impressed by this as to me, and I'm a fan of Eliot, this captures his style and a little of his essence. The clumsy reference to Eliot - "In T.S. Eliot's style resound" was unnecessary though, but I'm sure that Eliot would have approved.

"I'll give it 6 out of 10"


5 comments:

Robert Sees Things in Sky said...

I forgot to mention on my blog that the water temperature was 16.7C as I took my Lenten dip at 3 o'clock which is the hour we must all pray the Devine Mercy Prayer.

THE CURMUDGEON said...

That's a bit proscriptive.
What happens if you're in an important meeting, on a plane or, as Richard would no doubt scatologically surmise, on the toilet?

THE CURMUDGEON said...

I swam on Monday and Tuesday and the water was still very pleasant - refreshing but not cold. I'm hoping it will last that way until Easter when I usually 'hang up the togs'.

Richard (of RBB) said...

Nice poem but about a bass guitar.

Richard (of RBB) said...

That's like Robert hopping in the pool for Zeus.