Nick Cave’s words and his efforts to meticulously stitch them together has been inspiration for many aspiring artists and writers since he came onto the scene. His letter only solidifies that. I mean, you can literally feel the sincerity of his words and the good intentions behind them. AI could never, not in its current state, at least.
Anyway, the article discussing the concept of censorship raises interesting points. At first, I nodded along with its ideas because it’s really just reiterating what I’ve been repeatedly posting: Nothing is really new.
However, when they brought up freedom of speech, I thought, “Well, we do have freedom of speech in the media today. But, that’s because we can choose how to word our opinions or beliefs, problematic or not. AI does not have that option because it’s ‘thoughts’ are basically chosen for them.” So, its responses tend to be very extreme.
Still, the concept of censorship is kind of on the back burner right now. We’re still trying to figure the basics of this thing out, but it’s clearly important to question it now.
I have truly enjoyed putting this micro fiction together. I used SudoWrite to help me. I gave myself 3 different drafts using SudoWrite and I allowed my inspiration to come from the 3 rough drafts as I pieced them together. I have my idea of using a graduate student who suffered from anxiety and was currently in their final week of the semester. Meaning they were overwhelmed with finals and their big paper. Her name is Violet ( stolen from one of my daughters) and she is so used to excelling in school and would truly hate to let her parents down. This is something I have personally related to and was even unable to tell my parents the first year of undergrad that I was diagnosed with severe anxiety, which often cam from the fear of failing. So I allowed the character to violet to solve her issue with the help of AI. I thought this was a way to show how helpful AI can be in academics directly, because at times I can see a more negative tone with AI in academics.
I let SudoWrite give me 3 rough drafts with different questions I posted for my topic. I specifically asked for a micro fiction version so I wouldn’t go over my particular word count and it also helped me to see how to structure my micro fiction, as I have never written anything with a 500 word count restraint. I needed to visually see for myself how to properly structure the writing so I could make my message clear and easy to read. With this I then quoted from SudoWrite and kind of allowed it to help me create the story. I wrote a paragraph and used a paragraph from a draft to do the next and I went on like that for the entire paper. Since this assignment asked for us to use the hep of AI I liked the ID of writing with SudoWrite, so to speak.
My issue now is as my story is finished, to me, I am at 657 words ! I feel I have a solid beginning, middle, and end, and this is after I have removed certain things from my story. I am stuck on trying to figure out what words to remove, or maybe even re-writing sentences to meet the 500 word requirement. This is my first time writing a story in 500 words, so with this new experience it is teaching me the true lesson of less is more. Following the example of SudoWrite I learned you can actually say a lot in 500 words using detail and concise tone.
Speaking on this weeks reading censorship is very important in the world of creative expression and artistry. With Deformation laws you would think it can be quite simple to weed out the wrong doings of people misusing AI, but sadly it can still hurt the reputation of the artist and create controversy for them.
Artist in any form strive to have their work represent them and show them in the best light. They of course want credit for their authentic work as they created it with the intent to receive recognition from it. AI can now in some forms take away from this for artist, so as the technologies develop they should create away to still preserve the works of the artists and have AI help them develop their natural gifts.
When it comes to the progress I’ve made on my microfiction I’d say that it is dragging along. The whole thing about writing a story using AI is that most of it is going to come from the AI itself. Since I am writing for the sake of using AI as a partner I expect to just write prompts and be given an automated group of paragraphs to write off of.
At least that’s one way of looking at it. So far I have a few prompts that I worked on with SudoWrite. I have no dialogue so far, but I plan on having it as soon as possible.
In the meantime, I can talk about the three readings from this week’s pathfinder. This week’s pathfinder’s theme is all about free speech and free expression. I feel this theme with Censoring the technologies of free expression, as while reading I thought about the affects that AI systems such as DALL-E 2 would have on free expression and personal likeness. I’ve long since been an avid opposer of using technology to create deepfake of people and spread political misinformation. The use of online technology for these unethical purposes is already at an all time high. I do agree that we shouldn’t let our fears of the dreaded stifle our imaginations when it comes to the use of future technology.
The two readings about Nick Cave place a focus on personal expression. With the three reading put into conjunction, the whole focus on free expression is connected to the rise in AI. The threat it poses to genuine free expression in spit of its possible benefits is something important to pay attention to. Especially when reading about an artist like Nick Cave, it quickly becomes clear that AI cannot replicate free expression and muddies the public understanding of what free speech is.
As it pertains to the in-class discussions that one has participated in throughout the glory and duration of this course, I sincerely desire amongst the peer/cohort body that their perception of Brandon Machado within such a fruitful environment is not one withholding vitriol towards the artificiality of Artificial Intelligence as it stomps about with some intimidating and egregious post-apocalyptic boot over the livelihoods of human beings. That would be premature and silly, as I perceive it, given the infancy of implication present presently. Rather, what is present here is a call to understand the perspective fear that such a character as Brann withholds concerning the fragile spirituality that human beings are capable of expressing – this is the concern within his entire being, and his primary source of soul, spirit, and yes… love.
Such a delicate force is where one can most prominently access the purging of cynical realism, existential mortality, and insincere morality – it is the basis of all art, all literature, and all of the creativity that our innermost-selves have to offer.
The concept of a muse is one that I have consistently failed to tangibly grasp, something that I have never believed in in a literal sense – it is far from tangible to me, and simply-put just some hyperbolic representation behind factors and personal experiences that have shaped my own perception of this wild existence that we all share. Mark Savage presents a Nick Cave quote within his article that claims that ChatGPT “has no inner being, it has been nowhere, it has endured nothing, it has not the audacity to reach beyond its limitations, and hence it doesn’t have the capacity for a shared transcendent experience,” and this is precisely how its stifling venom decapitates us all (Savage 2). With a tool such as ChatGPT, the user is predestined to arrive at the most logistic and perceptively-bound restraints of our own moral voids, an appeasement to what is supposed to be, and ultimately produce what Cave also claims to be “a grotesque mockery” and “a travesty,” something so prominent to a Cave fan (oneself included) through the ChatGPT Cave-parodying lines of I am the sinner, I am the saint (Savage 2).
So obvious is this line a stinger quote, that is so un-engagingly modern-day Hollywood in how melodramatically banal, trite, and simplistic is is despite it’s contradicting pairing of two subjects that ultimately alludes to subjects of contextual depth, but ultimately says nothing, conveys nothing, is nothing. It’s platitudinal to say the very least, and at moderate an absolute fucking disgrace. What is ultimately expressed here through ChatGPT is a tool that rapes – not steals, not borrows, but rapes – the vitality of expression that Cave’s expansive forty-year career has been so consistent at conveying. It is sport, competition, a means of content – disgusting content, not art.
To provide alternate phrasing, ChatGPT is a tool for production rather than producing, there is no love for the act of doing in engaging with it. The sharing of our motivations, desires, and internal spirit is entirely devoid in-relation to it – there is no conscience there. It is merely a production machine, a tool to algorithmize competition for the human experience. Within his letter to the MTV Music Awards from October 1996 requesting his removal from nomination, Cave states that “the competitive nature of these award ceremonies” would merely serve to impair how “my relationship with my muse is a delicate one at the best of times … it is my duty to protect here from influences that may offend here fragile nature,” highlighting the predatory nature that the wrought of artistic measuring can have on our artistic spirit (Cave).
This fragility is one that Cave expresses more figuratively in stating that “I am dancing on water lilies when I write,” but that also pushes towards highlighting this idea that our innermost selves are not to be tampered with – they cannot withhold the heft of technological opposition (talk about getting post-apocalypto, eh?) (Taylor 2). Despite this strength that such technologies are capable of forcing our way, they withhold the very strength that allows our spirits to confuse, conflict, and contemplate internally, a force where notorious literature such as Lolita could never stem from, of which Cave recalls how “the words … excited me. I knew nothing would be the same,” as a twelve-year old Australian tween (Taylor 2). This experience is unique, truly unique, to human-based literature, as such moral ambiguity that Nabokov’s work is capable of providing human readers is so tied to the complexities and sensibilities of the human experience (Taylor 2).
Chat GPT is self-censoring.
Within his most recent collaborative authorship with Sean O’Hagan, titled Faith, Hope, and Carnage, Cave expresses that “I don’t like a lot of modern fiction, I guess. It all feels so morally obvious,” which holds very little regard akin to the ChatGPT slandering represented prior being that such a tool was only made publicly available around the time-period in which Cave and O’Hagan’s work was being released – well after all of their blood and soul was in present-accompaniment to the act of producing such a work (Cave, O’Hagan 152). Still, it is intently curious an act to point out that there is, yet another, mirroring to observed here in how the perceptions of a man who grew up predominantly as a youth in the 1960’s would withhold a withered fervor towards the morally obvious texts that have resulted in-accompaniment to the generational productivity and influx of technological advancements that have shaped the lexicon of literature throughout the preceding fifty-plus years.
That articles written within the relatively present day feel inclined to contemplate the idea “that speech rights aren’t involved here because a computer generating content would be as ridiculous as saying Daft Punk or some other electronic musician don’t enjoy the same free speech rights as other musicians because they use computers to synthesize music” is a concern of apocalyptic truth as it pertains to the experiential terrains in which art influences us in creation (Collins, Weiss 2). The heavy usage of sampling that so notably defines the auditory art that Daft Punk created pre-one-sided explosive termination (to keep their own kayfabe well and breathing) is entirely human because it deals with a detailing of experience through the love of music recontextualization that has defined a plethora of notable music released throughout the past forty-plus years (around the time that Peter Gabriel released his lauded third self-titled LP).
As Cave also states within Faith, Hope, and Carnage, “our actions mean something. We are of value” (Cave, O’Hagan 152). The truths of inspiration and motivation behind all that we do and create are severed with no benefit within the grasps of algorithmic replication.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Please consider how the quote following may relate to your own personal experiences as writers:
“There can be a kind of morbid worship of an absence. A reluctance to move beyond the trauma, because the trauma is where the one you lost resides, and therefore the place where meaning exists (Cave, O’Hagan 152).
The internet is the brain of AI, and is filled with information on nearly every muse we could see or imagine. But what about those that we can’t imagine?
That sounds like a strange and somewhat scary question– probably because it is. If the things we can already imagine are scaring us to a point of wanting to stop or censor it, then what about the things that do not make sense to our tiny human brains? How many times have we stood in fear of something people have created? How often do we stand in awe-struck fear of our own Creator, let alone the discipline of the very people who brought is into and up in this world? Does that fear stop our stubborn human nature? Why should something that we have created be any different?
We should not let fear of harm overpower our imagination for the possibilities of what may be the next printing press or internet.
And that fear is exactly what keeps us running is circles as we ride our muses as a horse in a race.
I would, to some degree, argue that without a muse we are running around in circles rather than reaching a point. For example, theories on geological dating of rocks (especially sedimentary rocks) often depends on the fossils within them. But then again, how do we know when particular fossils were formed? No one was there to observe or record the existence of the fossilized organism, and the rock’s estimated formation is dependent on the fossil? Geologists that don’t play into the young earth ideology that many Christians hold will often say the date of the fossil is dependent on either the formation of the rock (which we’ve already established is informed by the fossil) or macro-evolutionary theory– something that has yet to occur before our very eyes, let alone replicated by scientists. We begin to fall into circular reasoning that I think was best explained by John Morris:
In circular reasoning, instead of proceeding from observation to conclusion, the conclusion interprets the observation, which “proves” the conclusion. … Thus, the rocks date the fossils, and the fossils date the rocks. The unquestioned assumption of evolution provides the context for the entire process.
The Young Earth: The Real History of the Earth– Past, Present, and Future ; John Morris
My point is that when we’re writing, the muse is the point. Though an AI may help us to decipher how to go about that point, it’s not the best at getting to that point on its own in a way that is unique to your muse. And I think we often get caught in the details about the muse, or maybe in how the muse makes us feel or react (I’ve most certainly been guilty of this). But then we use those details to interpret the muse. We then become trapped in this circular reasoning in our writing when we simply observe and don’t ask questions and go somewhere from there.
I like how Nick Cave put it in his letter to the people at MTV:
She comes to me with the gift of song and in return I treat her with the respect I feel she deserves — in this case this means not subjecting her to the indignities of judgement and competition. My muse is not a horse and I am in no horse race and if indeed she was, still I would not harness her to this tumbrel — this bloody cart of severed heads and glittering prizes. My muse may spook! May bolt! May abandon me completely!
The muse should not be a horse kept in stables and enclosures, or a horse that runs circles. Our creativity should not subject the muse to that. While observations can be beautiful and profound, sometimes with points that can be left for interpretation by the audience, they most often do not answer the questions in such a way that leaves us in awesome wonder. Making plain observations simply leaves the piece at nothing more than a piece of writing– often with little room for the audience to take part in this process of creation (as Madeleine L’Engle often invites her audience into with her work, such as A Wrinkle in Time). Her work leaves people asking questions, and challenges audiences to learn throughout their adventures through her work. I’d like to reiterate a quote from Walking on Water:
When language is diminished, I am thereby diminished, too. In time of war language always dwindles… We think because we have words, not the other way around. The more words we have, the better able we are to think conceptually. … As a child, when I came across a word I didn’t know, I didn’t stop reading the story to look it up, I just went on reading. And after I had come across the word in several books, I knew what it meant… We were capable of absorbing far more vocabulary when we read straight on than when we stopped to look up every word. … If our vocabulary dwindles to a few shopworn words, we are setting ourselves up for takeover by a dictator. When language becomes exhausted, our freedom dwindles…
And circling back to the point of this class, AI uses the language we are already likely to use. It’s brain is the internet– the lump sum of human output and interaction– and especially when asking AI language programs to put together a creative piece, it calculates something that we are likely to understand. Instead of challenging us, it gives us what we are already comfortable with. Instead of leaving us asking questions or trusting the audience to be able to pick up particular details, it over-explains or makes things so obvious that the reader has no job but to consume. Creative writing is much more than consumption, awards, or race horses running around a track– it’s about the muse.
It just occurred to me to look up the actual definition of a muse. There are two forms of the word, both of which I find relevant.
NOUN : a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist.
VERB : to be absorbed in thought ; to say to oneself in a thoughtful manner ; to gaze thoughtfully at.
See, the muse is the source of inspiration, thought, or I would even dare to say it’s the source of questioning. The creative act is daring to explore those questions, while AI seeks merely to answer them. But because of the heavy idolization and reliance on technology, we’ve already been primed, in large part, to want answers more than adventure or experience.
The only other question I have regarding this topic for the moment is one that I already know my answer for– dare I even say, the answer to. I want to challenge you to think about it too though. What is the muse of the muse– it’s source and reason for existing in the first place? Given that the muse inspires so much in us as mere humans, and that we often still have some dominion over these muses, especially in a creative sense, how much more powerful do you think the Artist that created your muse is? Is that something that leaves you in awesome wonder and even asking more questions than the muse itself? I would think so if your answer is anything like mine.
After reading this weeks reads, my thoughts on AI technology once again are deteriorating. While it is here and doesn’t seem to slow down a bit, I was trying to remain on the positive side of the spectrum with this new profound way of using technology. But after reading the articles this weekend, I realized that AI is killing a lot more than just future academic writers. It’s killing the muse. Which is probably pretty obvious but when you’re not thinking about it, that can catch you off guard.
The world is already structured to feel like a horse race. People often times forget there is enough seats at the table for everybody. But I wonder how AI will further effect this horse race. In cooperate world and even in the music industry, if the environment is already so dishonest, will AI only make it worse? And if it does then what would even be the point anymore. What would be the point of listening to music, looking at art, reading books, or even going to school.
It’s human nature that we can tend to be a little lazy and enjoy relying on something that is fast and easy, We do this daily, even before AI existed. I rely on the Starbucks app to order my coffee beforehand making my way to the actual coffee shop. I like things to be quick and easy as well. It’s embedded in us a little bit. But I think with full (free) access to AI systems will really rob us of our creativeness and our muse, one of the few last things that separate us from these AI tools. Once we let that happen, then what’s the point anymore? We loose our value and what makes us important. Once a tool can create almost everything for us, then there will be no point in being creative and honest or even having a muse at all.
After watching “Trauma-informed Pedagogy and Hope” and reading “How to help a Traumatized Child in the Classroom”, a common theme of kindness showed itself.
For children in trauma situations, it is harder for them to get out of it than adults in those same situations. For an adult, they are able to rationalize, thinking they’ve been through worse or figuring out coping methods to help them. Whereas a child, doesn’t have that thought process because they’re young, they haven’t lived as much life as an adult.
The body remembers traumas and ingrains it into the mind but normal day to day activities tend to just fade away. Meaning that mundane daily things don’t impact us as much as we think it does. But when that one thing out of the ordinary happens, it sticks with us for a while, even a lifetime.
When I started my new job, it was a Tuesday. I was overwhelmed but excited. I remember trying to learn kids’ names and the classroom dynamic. And just observing everything. But now, when I think about work, only bits and pieces come to me. The first day was out of the ordinary so it stuck with me, but most days since, have just blended together.
While my job is not traumatic the way that I remember the events of the days varies and is similar to remembering traumatic events in that what sticks out is out of the ordinary and had an impact on me.
I like details. Microfiction is hard for wordy people such as myself. I want to tell you about the sound of my characters shoes scraping against the ground and how their hair sticks in their mouth when they walk through the wind. Those tiny details usually only come out after writing and rewriting a scene, empathizing with characters, and thinking about ideas obsessively (guilty). With microfiction I imagine it is difficult to create a full picture. It’s a five minute glimpse into a world I spent 9 hours building in my head.
After our workshop last class my concern increased. Mostly because I didn’t feel compelled by any of the examples. I like be submersed in new universes when I read, something that becomes increasingly difficult with fewer words. I feel as though microfiction is about making a point, not telling a story, and I’ve spent most of my time creative writing learning how to tell an immersive story.
I already find myself glued to my phone enough. Watching everyone build-a-bot like some custom stuffed bear that we used to go out and interact with people to make ourselves with our own hands is… well… depressing. Putting off the pain via these mind-numbing intelligent artificial besties– however custom to the individual they may be– will only cause it to come crashing down if not in this generation, than in the next. Do we really want that for ourselves, let alone our children?
Though I do understand the many things that this sort of technology has helped with, there are many other things that just seem to have gotten worse.
I’m already starting to realize that the most difficult part of this project is somehow using artificial intelligence to write this story. I know how to use ChatGPT already, and last class helped me to understand how to use SudoWrite– I feel completely comfortable using both tools. The issue is arising that I already have an idea of where I want to go with this piece and since short pieces tend to be more of my forte, I’m not inclined to want help because I don’t feel like I need it. (I think part of it is also that these AI’s don’t exactly produce quality content).
As for how last class has helped me, I think being given time to try AI language generators that I haven’t explored yet helped. Before last week, I’d only gotten to try ChatGPT. I tried SudoWrite though; its design elicits more collaboration between the algorithm and the author. I didn’t like exactly how it was formatted, but once I figured that out I liked the way it functions better. I think the next step to this process is to try writing every other sentence based on what I already have written above.
The end of April is always great because the tease of warm winds and sun comes around, but the dreadful task of finishing classes shadows it all. Thank goodness that isn’t the case for this class…. :^)
Just a little bit though, because I’m honestly having trouble coming up with a plot I actually like. The only semi-intriguing plot I’ve had come to mind involves something along the lines of a student succeeding and exceeding their goals by using ChatGPT, but no one noticing this. The student becomes a ridiculously famous author and the end of the story is where their secrets crumble. I have an idea for that breaking point that is motivating me to try this plot out, so this will probably be it.
The main issue with this is that it may be too packed for microfiction. There’ll have to be a lot of fast-forwarding through time, so I’ll have to be mindful of that while prompting ChatGPT to help me out with the story.
I will say that the workshop was really in helpful in clearing up how to start the assignment and what to expect from the AI writing programs as well. I think this will be an experiment and challenge for myself, but I’m excited to see what the machine and I produce.
The official class site for Dr. Mia Zamora's Spring 2023 "Networked Narratives" course.
