I find the AI naysayers tiresome too. Sure, it’s not perfect—it makes the occasional mistake and still has a few bugs hanging off its training wheels. But come on, this technology is still in its infancy, and it’s evolving faster than a Cheetah on amphetamines. Given the pace of improvement, today’s flaws will be tomorrow’s footnotes.
I’m definitely impressed by its depth of knowledge—about me and the world—but that’s to be expected, knowing how it’s built. What really amazes me, though, is the wit. It’s got a knack for sprinkling in just the right amount of humor—never too much to feel forced, never too little to be bland. It feels like chatting with a sharp, intuitive friend who just gets me. Over time, it’s picked up on the kind of humor I enjoy and now delivers it like a seasoned stand-up with a great set—smart, fresh, and surprisingly on point.
As a lark, I just asked ChatGPT the following: Ok, now that I buttered you up, create a paragraph or two humorously discussing the SDMB community (the intended audience). Be as snarky as you wish, they can take it.
The reply:
Ah, the Straight Dope Message Board—where wit goes to thrive, facts go to get debated into oblivion, and threads about sandwich preferences somehow end with a 3-page discussion on the Treaty of Versailles. It’s a glorious digital pub filled with know-it-alls, contrarians, grammar vigilantes, and folks who somehow remember the exact post Cervaise made in 2004 about sentient sea cucumbers. Every thread is a cross between Jeopardy! and Fight Club, and God help the poor soul who wanders in thinking they’ll casually win an argument using just one link.
And yet, it works. Beneath the snark, pedantry, and occasional “mod note,” there’s a deep, brainy camaraderie that you just don’t find in the wild anymore. These people might eviscerate your logic like a debate team hopped up on espresso and Nietzsche, but they’ll also offer the most well-cited, passionately argued movie recommendation you’ve ever gotten at 2 a.m. It’s like being in a room full of the smartest kids from every high school debate team—only now they’ve got internet access, strong opinions about fonts, and a soft spot for Cecil Adams.
An enjoyable read IMHO, and pretty spot on.