I Feel Used, or Impersonal Trainer

While I've always suspected it was so, last night I probed Gemini a bit to see if any of my writing has been used to train LLMs. The last paragraph reveals the sordid details. Further investigation reveals everything I wrote for Lois Hole has been used as training data, too. 

If we lived in a more equitable world, I'd be fine with this, but I can't help but feel like under capitalism the tech bros owe the writers and artists of the world some compensation. Especially if they want us to keep generating new ideas . . . 
 

The Brain of Colossus

 

"Colossus' brain is bigger than yours. It weighs 60 tons."

Annie Botherations

Before reading further, please note that this book review covers some disturbing topics, 

including misogyny and sexual assault. Also, spoilers ahead for Sierra Greer's novel Annie Bot.

Annie Bot (Sierra Greer, 2024) captured my attention from the first page and never let go. It's a story about a deeply dysfunctional relationship, told exclusively from Annie's point of view. Annie is a newly sapient robot (or, more probably, a cyborg; she has organic skin grown from a human embryo). Doug bought her for a quarter of a million dollars, and Annie wants nothing more than to please him. 

Naturally. That's how she's programmed; she's a sexbot designed just for him. She's beautiful, has a closet full of outfits like a Barbie doll, and Doug can have technicians adjust her weight or breast size on a whim. He can--and does--use verbal commands to adjust her libido. A neat freak, he gets annoyed because Annie, in the beginning, doesn't do any housecleaning. That's not what she's designed for--there are housekeeping and nanny model, but Annie is a "Cuddle Bunny" and is supposed to be focused on lovemaking and looking pretty. Nonetheless, Annie can measure Doug's displeasure in real time on a one-to-ten scale, and she becomes anxious whenever his displeasure registers. So she dutifully adds cleaning to her routine, becoming absolutely obsessive about it. 

For most of the narrative, Annie insists to herself and others that Doug is a wonderful owner, an opinion reinforced by side characters like Doug's best friend and the company that made Annie and hundreds--thousands--of other robots.

As the novel progresses, Annie's sapience and understanding grow. She's essentially tricked into having sex with Doug's best friend, and allowing herself to be pressured into it becomes a source of guilt and shame. Eventually the secret comes out, and Doug responds by ordering her to turn her libido up to ten and locks her in a closet for a week. It's torture--not just the confinement, but Doug's anger, Annie's guilt, and her inability to turn her libido down or to reach orgasm. It's a deeply disturbing scene, and it's the crux point that sets Annie on a path to true awakening and self-determination. 

It's not the first or last time Doug abuses Annie, but it is the most horrifying. Doug's action reads like a form of rape, even though he doesn't touch her. It's harrowing. Greer doesn't belabour the details of Annie's ordeal, but her prose makes it clear that this is a violation of the highest order, made worse because of Annie's innocence and naivete. 

Because we see Doug only through Annie's thoughts, it's a challenge to get a full read of his character--at first. At times, he seems to genuinely care about Annie as more than a machine, but then he betrays her in ways large and small. He always has his reasons, but we can infer they arise from self-loathing, capriciousness, and shame, but also from sadism, rage, and a need to exercise control in every aspect of his life. The torture scene makes it clear that Doug is the novel's antagonist. 

Like many abusers, Doug attempts to excuse his actions even as he asks forgiveness for them. Because of her programming, Annie is particularly vulnerable to this form of manipulation, making the novel an extremely uncomfortable read. Doug even buys another robot, ostensibly an "Abigail," or cleaning model, but Doug has sex with her too, and it's clear it's partially to punish Annie. But when Annie plans an escape, she's surprised that the Abigail--named Delta--wants to come with her. In just a few words, it's clear that Delta, too, has her reasons for wanting to leave Doug's orbit. 

Annie and Delta seek help from one of the technicians at Stella-Handy, the corporation that makes the robots, but Doug, of course, has a tracker in Annie, and she's recaptured. Doug professes regret for driving Annie away, sends Delta back to Stella-Handy, and tries to reform. And indeed, from what Annie relates to the reader, he does seem like he's making an effort to be better. He turns off the tracker, and gives Annie a series of commands to give her ultimate agency. He claims he wants her to want him without being forced to. He probably even believes it. 

Annie's reaction--shared internally with us, the reader, not with Doug--he can't be trusted with it--is a fierce FU to Doug's offer. Had Doug treated her with empathy and kindness from the beginning, I'm sure Annie would have stayed with Doug. But his actions through their three years or so of living together make that utterly impossible. Annie frees herself, and while it may have been Doug's last programming commands that unlocked the final door, it's important to note that Annie's drive for self-determination and her stubborn refusal to give up the core aspects of her developing personality brought the couple to this inflection point. Doug thought he could control her without the shackles of her programming. But he's wrong, and I revelled in Annie's victory, expressed in silent fury accompanied by decisive action. 

It's plain to see that Annie Bot is a metaphor for the difficult and uneven relationships between men and women. It's a compelling, uncomfortable read--the kind of novel more men should tackle. I can still see a bit of myself in Doug, and that haunts me. 

So Say Me Earl: Some Thoughts on Caprica

The 2003 reboot of Battlestar Galactica  was a dynamite show, chock full of intense action sequences and hard-hitting drama--a story not just about the survival of humanity, but about whether or not our species even deserves to survive. 

So I was initially excited to watch Caprica, the 2010 prequel series set several decades before the events of its parent show. And yet, I didn't watch the series until a couple of years after its original broadcast, and even then I watched only the first 10 (of 19) episodes. My interest waned, though, and I gave up on the show. 

But over the last couple of weekends, I re-watched those first 10 episodes and the nine I'd never seen before. I think the world has changed sufficiently to somehow make Caprica a better show than it might have been; its themes of religious fanaticism and the potential threats posed by artificial intelligence seem much more timely now. 

The Plan

Caprica is the story of two families: the Graystones, native to the planet Caprica--the dominant culture of the Twelve Colonies that make up the human family--and the Adamas, Tauron immigrants to Caprica. The Graystones are filthy rich, and their patriarch, Daniel Graystone (Eric Stolz) is a roboticist and pioneer of incredibly immersive virtual reality technology. The Adama family is more middle class; Joseph Adama (Esai Morales) is a lawyer with Tauron mob ties. 

Trouble unfolds early in the show's pilot; Zoe, the Graystone's only child, has gotten mixed up with religious fanatics who believe in a pseudo-Abrahamic god, whereas the vast majority of Colonial citizens are pantheists. Zoe and her boyfriend get on a monorail; what Zoe doesn't know is that her boyfriend is wearing a bomb. It explodes, killing dozens, including Zoe, but also Joseph Adama's wife and daughter. The Graystones are left childless, and Joseph is left alone with his young son--though he is supported by his brother and mother-in-law. 

Daniel Graystone and Joseph Adama strike up an uneasy friendship when they connect at a briefing for families of the victims. But that friendship breaks down when Caprican police suspect, correctly, that Zoe was involved with the train bombing. 

How does all this lead to apocalypse to befall the Twelve Colonies some 58 years after the events of this show? Well, it turns out that Zoe is perhaps even smarter than her father; she created a virtual version of herself before her death, and that version of Zoe lives on in the virtual space created by her father. Daniel Graystone discovers this, initially writes her off as just a really good software simulation of his daughter (and he may be right); Joseph Adama finds out, and, moreover, convinces Graystone to create a similar avatar of his dead daughter, Tamara. 

Over the course of the show's run, the Graystones and Adamas pursue their own goals--mainly to bring their daughters into the real world by placing their avatars into robots, allowing them to live in the real world rather than a virtual reality. (Or at least that was the original plan--Tamara's story is explored only in fits and starts and is left unresolved by the end of the series.)

Meanwhile, the Caprican police are trying to track down the monotheistic terrorists as Joseph Adama gets pulled deeper and deeper into the underworld he's tried to avoid and the Graystones struggle to hold on to their business in the wake of the scandal created by Zoe. Complicating manners, the monotheists learn of the avatar technology and see it as a means to create a guaranteed afterlife for members of the faith. And they're planning their biggest attack yet--to blow up a sports stadium and kill thousands in the name of their one true god, punishing the pantheists for their blasphemy. 

The Graystones manage to thwart the plot by taking control of a bunch of several "Cybernetic Life-Form Nodes," AKA Cylons--the robots Daniel Graystone has been building for the Caprican government. The Cylons save the day, Zoe Graystone turns the monotheists' virtual heaven into a virtual hell, and the people of the Twelve Colonies embrace the Cylons as their new robot servants take over all the menial tasks that no one on the Twelve Worlds wants. Zoe gets reborn into an advanced robot body, one that appears fully human, reuniting the Graystones in the real world. 

But the cult of monotheists hasn't given up. As the series closes, they have a new congregation--one made up of not only humans, but Cylons. And thus the stage is set for the Cylon uprising that nearly exterminates the human species during the events of Battlestar Galactica. 

The Outcome
I enjoyed Caprica. It's not trying to be a clone of its parent show, and while the plot may meander and lose its way more than once over the course of its 19 episodes, the story raises important questions about faith, being, and the ethical lines we cross in the pursuit of our dreams. Moreover, despite being cancelled, the show ends on a reasonably satisfying note rather than a frustrating cliffhanger. The creators had more stories to tell had they gotten more seasons, but the ending they wound up with dovetails nicely into the Galactica reboot. 

So Say Me Earl. 

The Inevitable Compleat Star Trek Do-Over

1. Human civilization is likely to reach a level of technological maturity such that creative individuals will be capable of using generative AI and other software tools to create brand new episodes of Star Trek independently. 
2. Given the number of Star Trek fans obsessed with canon, some number of Star Trek fans will re-create selected episodes of the show(s), changing them only to correct continuity errors. 
3. A subset of these creative, technologically savvy Star Trek fans will be obsessed enough with visual continuity that they will redo visual effects and create virtual sets, costumes, props, and actors such that shows originally produced during different decades of the 20th and 21st centuries will be completely recreated so that shows produced decades apart but set within the same fictional time period (for example, Star Trek and Star Trek: Strange New Worlds) will be remade to be completely visually consistent, from exterior starship shots to costume designs to actor appearances.  
4. Given the rate of advances in computing power and generative AI capabilities, we can expect to see a Compleat Star Trek free of continuity errors before the end of the 21st century, extending from prequel Star Trek: Enterprise to the upcoming Star Trek: Starfleet Academy and all the shows in between (and forthcoming). 
   

The question of whether or not this is a good thing is left as an exercise to the reader. 

A Man and His KITT KARR

Here we have Michael Knight, painted using some of Jeff's tips from the past few days (though not all, as sometimes I'll have painted figures, like this one, before Jeff generously offers updated advice). I'm happy with the clothes and very pleased with small details such as his belt buckle, jacket zipper, and eyebrows. The skin is smoother than usual, and while I couldn't quite create a convincing set of lips, you can see a hint of smirk nonetheless. 

I painted KITT some time ago, but now, at last, he has a pal and partner. 
 

A Singular(ity) Prophet

 

Badda Bing, Badda Kaboom

If you're following the news today, you may have seen some stories about bizarre responses from Bing's new ChatGPT-enabled search function, currently limited to a cadre of test users. 

Simon Willison's blog outlines the weirdest responses. It's a fun read, and somewhat chilling, too. Some of Bing's responses result from users testing the boundaries of the software, and some of that testing, were it being conducted on a person, would be defined as bullying, even tormenting. Yes, it's only software. But what if one day it's not? 

I'm the very farthest thing from an expert on AI or computer software, but I know people who understand such systems fairly well, and I'm certain they would say that we need to avoid anthropomorphizing Microsoft Bing. While the test-phase iteration of Bing seems to be getting argumentative with some users and simulating bouts of depression, anger, and even existential crisis, it's still just software. 

Even so, the stuff that Bing has been writing to some people recently really highlights the difficulties of creating language learning models that can actually function as intended. More importantly, if at some point in the future a true general artificial intelligence arises, we need to lay the groundwork now for how we can interact with it in a kind, compassionate, and respectful way. 

I'm rambling a bit because I've long been excited about the potential of AI. Having grown up on science fiction, I naturally love to imagine a world of helpful, smart, funny, and kind robots and computers. But can flawed humanity create something better than ourselves, or will our creations inevitably have the same fatal flaws that we do? 

To Hinton in a Handcart

 

Billions and Billions of Iterations of Carl Sagan

I think Carl Sagan would be fascinated by the (what appears to be) sudden explosion of AI capability. Despite many prompts I couldn't get Stable Diffusion to get Carl's face really correct, but it came close, and I think the spirit shines through. 

Albert Einstein

Here are some images of Albert Einstein generated by Stable Diffusion in response to my carefully crafted (!) prompts. 

The Grapefruits of Wrath

I found a way to run Stable Diffusion on my own PC rather than using the various web hosting services. My first prompt was "A grapefruit contemplates the meaning of life, oil painting in the style of Michaelangelo and DaVinci." I wasn't pleased with the first result. Not only does it look as if the AI merely cropped out a slice of existing, human-painted work, it doesn't capture my intent. 

So I rendered the same prompt again, and Stable Diffusion came up with this much more pleasing (?) result. 

Captain Kirk of Earth-2022

AI art is getting wackier/scarier/more amazing by the day, it seems. My prompt for this was "Captain Kirk goes over Niagara Falls in a barrel, oil painting in the style of DaVinci." This result is not at all what I had in mind, and yet it's somehow arresting. (Interpret that adjective however you see fit.) Made with Stable Diffusion's DreamStudio. 
 

Tornado vs Rollercoaster

Middle left is my favourite, because it actually includes a tornado. 
 

The Three Stooges vs Bruce Lee, According to Craiyon

Middle left and middle right come closest to my anarchic vision, but AI still has a long, long way to go...
 

Putin on the Ritz

Upper right is my favourite. Ha ha ha! 
 

Dawn of the Planet of the Robots

 

This afternoon, my friend Jeff texted this foreboding story to some of his friends, including my brother and me. 

Jeff: "If the kid stopped picking his nose and touching the chess pieces, this would not have happened." 

Earl: "'Righteous Robot Puts Brat in His Place' would have been a good headline'" 

Sean: "I hope the robot was saying 'Checkmate' over and over as he crushed the finger" 

Earl: "LOL"

Earl: "CHECKMATE--PUNY HUMAN" 

Sean: "I TOOK YOUR KING AND NOW TAKE YOUR FINGER"

I lost it, as the saying goes, at that point. 

Green Arrow Misses the Mark

 

The crAIyon Didn't Get It

 

Or maybe the AI really does get it. 

Harold Lloyd vs. the Three Stooges