Michael Crichton Predicted Our Response to ChatGPT

No, it wasn't in his explanation of Chaos Theory. 

It’s his description of Gell-Mann amnesia:

“You open the newspaper to an article on some subject you know well [….] You read the article and see the journalist has absolutely no understanding of either the facts or the issues. [….] you read with exasperation or amusement the multiple errors in a story, and then turn the page to national or international affairs, and read as if the rest of the newspaper was somehow more accurate about Palestine than the baloney you just read. You turn the page, and forget what you know.”

Most of the breathless hype about ChatGPT seems to come from people asserting that it will radically disrupt the work of someone else. When experts evaluate ChatGPT in their own disciplines, the same optimism is missing:

• Musician Nick Cave has received “dozens” of ChatGPT-created songs that attempt to emulate his work. He is not impressed.
  
  
• Stack Overflow, a website for programmers discussing code, found ChatGPT answers to be “substantially harmful” (emphasized in the original statement) for users who want correct information.
  
  
• Journalists at Futurism looked at CNET's use of ChatGPT for creating news stories, and they found “a series of boneheaded errors.” 
  
  
• In cybersecurity discussions, observers have pointed out that ChatGPT can’t do the actual work required for a successful attack. 
  
  
• One app tried using ChatGPT responses in its online mental health services, and the experiment ended because “messages just felt better” when they were written by humans. 

When it comes to overblown predictions about ChatGPT’s effects, it’s odd to see credible sources change gears and forget what they know. At least Michael Crichton can explain what’s happening. 

TL;DR Just invoke Betteridge’s law when an article asks you “Can ChatGPT fill in mentorship gaps for Gen Z workers?”

Interactive Fiction Bestiary

(Language Warning: I’m not using the word “Bestiary” correctly, but this is a post about the best interactive fiction. The best interactive fiction, right? Come at me, bro.) 

If you are interested in dynamic and engaging stories, then you should be paying attention to Interactive Fiction. If you are paying attention to Interactive Fiction, then you should be following the Interactive Fiction Community Forum.

Over on the forum, Victor Gijsbers has asked for a list of the best Interactive Fiction games. I've shared my list over there, but I'm also putting it here for people who don't know about either the forum or this specific discussion.

• Trinity, by Brian Moriarty, has the #1 spot on my list. The Lost Treasures of Infocom games were a big part of the computer games I played in high school, but I'm naming Trinity as first among them. 

For the rest of my list, here are the parser games listed in alphabetical order:

• Baker of Shireton, by Hanon Ondricek, is both straightforward and absurd. What if a single-player text adventure tried to simulate an MMORPG? It’s much more entertaining than the .hack Playstation games.  
• Child's Play, by Stephen Granade, is all about emotional manipulation and cunning schemes. Because sometimes, justice demands it.  
• Curse of the Garden Isle, by Ryan Veeder, is a peaceful, low-stakes exploration game. Well, the stakes are low for you, but not so much for the island’s former visitors. 
• Diddlebucker!, by J. Michael, is a solid mashup of 80’s scavenger-hunt movies and Infocom text adventure classics. It’s very well done.  
• Future Threads, by Xavid, is not quite about time travel, but it is about predicting the future. It includes an in-game map and direct feedback about how your actions will influence the game’s outcome.  
• Holy Robot Empire, by Caleb Wilson, needs no explanation. It took me a bit to figure out that I was still supposed to be a human character, but I was determined to find the Robopope and then kiss its papal ring.  
• Hunger Daemon, by Sean M. Shore, is a Lovecraft tribute with multiple endings. More importantly, it’s a self-aware Lovecraft tribute, which saves it from overwrought, needlessly elaborate prose that can infest other iterations.  
• Kerkerkruip, by Victor Gijsbers, has the best combat system I have ever seen in a parser game. The setting manages to be familiar without existing as a stereotyped cliché.  
• Oppositely Opal, Buster Hudson, is a game about spellcraft. And about friendship. And about making your rivals pay.   
• Origin of Madame Time, by Brian Rushton, builds a detailed world full of super-heroes and super-villains. It’s fun, the puzzles are fair, and it gives you a choice of taking the easy way out or becoming a true hero.  

Here are the Twine games in alphabetical order:

• Animalia, by Ian Michael Waddell, leans hard into combinatorial explosion and ends up better for it.
• Beware the Faerie Food You Eat, by Astrid Dalmady, nails the atmosphere of a trip to the faerie realm.
• Cannery Vale, by Hanon Ondricek, is a game of stories within stories.
• and Seedship, John Ayliff is a game where you find a new home for the human race. Good luck! 

All these games are listed in the Interactive Fiction Database, which is another useful resource for finding dynamic and engaging stories.

Sound Parenting Decisions

Sending our daughter to daycare was an unavoidable necessity, so we spent a lot of time considering our options and carefully evaluating the places in town:

• Sister Knucklecracker's Purgatorial Childcare
• Typhoid Mary's Germ Nursery (Free Blankets!)
• Li'l' Axefighters Infant Dojo
• That Van Lurking by the Playground Fun Time Center
• Bob's Alligator Pit

In the end, we chose one for its friendly staff, clean facilities, and convenient location:



That's right. After a rigorous examination of childcare centers in our area, we went and chose the one by the porn store.

Decay of our society's moral fiber: 1
Responsible parenting: 0

I'm still not sure how it happened.

Well, I have an idea. We were so worried about the kind of people that our daughter would be exposed to inside of the daycare that we didn't pay enough attention to the kind of people that would be outside of it.

Why didn't I notice this earlier? The porn store is screened by the fried chicken restaurant, so by the time your brain is done saying "mmm, fried chicken," you've pulled into the daycare's driveway, handed over your check, dropped of your daughter, and are ready for something to eat.

I'm thinking I should get a coffee mug or something emblazoned with my new motto, "I routinely make poor decisions."

What couldn't go wrong?

My high school English teacher once told me that nothing is ever as bad as we expect it to be, because there is no force on earth as powerful as the human imagination. That was a load of shit. However, I wanted to give my imagination a break from worrying about everything in my life that is on the brink of catastrophe (read: everything), so I thought I'd start wondering what couldn't go wrong.

No matter how horrifying things get, at least I can be relieved that:

• I will not be humiliated on national television by losing a breakdance competition to George Takei.


• The CEO of my company is not going to get drunk, "borrow" my car, and wrap it around a tree.


• I will not be entrusted with a sacred relic that has been passed down through generations, putting me in terrible danger as it is hunted by the powerful, relentless forces that would do anything to possess it.


• Henry Paulson is not going to ask me to oversee the distribution of a massive economic relief package (read: pile of cash) designed to shore up America's ailing strip club industry, forcing me to choose between my family's respect and the welfare of hundreds of thousands of exotic dancers across the country.


• I will not be sucked into an alternate dimension run by talking cats where I have to amuse them by running in a hamster wheel for hours at a time.


• My old company from Boston is not going to keep me awake and annoy my neighbors by sending their head of HR to my house at 3:00 AM, by alternately screaming and crying about how they can't live without me and how they'll give me double what I'm earning now just for sitting at a desk and surfing the internet all day in a futile effort to try and win me back.


• I will not have two Hollywood producers/literary agents/talent scouts/philanthropic trillionaires simultaneously discover my writing online and get into a bidding war with each other in an attempt to win my affection that leaves me paralyzed with indecision.


• An outer space virus will not infect me with an insatiable hunger for cardboard and old gym shoes, contaminating the entire state and requiring the mobilization of the national guard to control.


• I will not bring about the end of civilization all by myself, even if I DO go and vote next week.
  

So I guess I've got all that going for me, even if I can't look forward to developing some sort of mutant superpower.

I Resolve to Be Awesome

Okay. 2008 has less than three months left in it, and I don't have a prayer of completing any of my New Year's resolutions in time. So, it's time to achieve excellence by lowering the bar, scrapping the old resolutions and establishing this new set of goals to achieve before 2009:

Don't wear white pants after labor day. Tricky, but not impossible. I expect this to be helped by the fact that I don't own any white pants.

Don't sell national secrets to foreign powers. Luckily, I don't actually have any security clearance, even if those guys from Burkina Faso have been trying to get pretty chummy with me lately.

Don't get addicted to crack. Winners don't use drugs. Losers don't have to use drugs, either, so I've got my bases covered either way.

Don't drink alcohol before sundown. Woah, back up. We're trying to list goals that we actually have a chance of accomplishing here. At the rate things are going, I'll have broken this one by the end of the week.

Don't get humiliated on national television. It's a gamble, but one I'm willing to make. I'm not going to be at the American Idol tryouts, but you never know when you'll be the star attraction on an episode of Cops. Let's keep our fingers crossed on this one.

Don't make any Nobel-prize-winning breakthroughs in science, health, peacemaking, etc. Because I shouldn't be hogging all the credit for myself. It's time for someone else to be in the spotlight.

Don't get stabbed in a bar fight with Charles S. Dutton. Because only a fool gets into a bar fight with Charles S. Dutton.

If this goes well, I might actually make up some more goals and retroactively apply them to 2007. Self-improvement isn't so hard after all.

The Internet Is So Confusing

You can't swing a keyboard without accidentally typing the URL of someone's personal blog, and half of them claim to be advice from experts. The blog is the new business card, and everyone is setting up shop in the hopes that it will show potential customers how knowledgeable they are, sometimes with disastrous results.
No proof of skill is required to start handing out advice freely, but it reminds me of the phrase about stock market tips:

"Those who say, don't know, and those who know, don't say."

Anyway, it's time for me to hop on board this expertise train to pull in some of that sweet, sweet consulting money. The trick is to find a niche that's not already been done to death. So, from this day forward, I am an expert on (and will be answering questions about) the following subjects:

Pencil Sharpening: "Almost as important as having the proper sharpener is using the proper grip with your pencil. Softer lead pencils require a firmer hold, while the following illustration shows the best way to..."

Toenail manufacturing: "Common developments are the Irish hook, the Great Plains runway, and the west side split. These will all have a negative effect on your resale value, which is why it's important to..."

Eggplant wrestling: "Try borrowing some strategies from Sun Tzu. Study your opponent carefully in the days leading up to the match. Does he prefer to use his upper-body strength, or does he specialize in holds that leverage his superior leg work? You can adapt your method by..."

Armadillo repair: "It's normal for daily use to inflict signs of wear and tear on your armadillo, but you can fix some of the more common damage with this basic remedy of..."

Moustache fitting: "As you can see in this chart, your ideal style of moustache can vary greatly depending on your facial structure. It's easier to fit the moustache to your face than it is to use prosthetics to accomodate your moustache, but if you absolutely need to, you can..."

Coathanger maintenance: "While usage will soon run them down, your coathangers can be kept in their prime if you are sure to..."

Spitwad design: "Texture is as important as--if not more so--than size, but the true professional focuses on a consistent..."

Alternative energy sources (e.g., orgone, water-fuel technology, perpetual motion, zero-point/free energy): "What distinguishes this from some of the scams out there is my personal guarantee that..."

Sumerian courtship rituals: "The suitor would then stuff the body of the goat with a mixture of wheat and cloves, while using the head to..."

Beet farming: "Your one-stop source for all beet-farming-related content! If your North Atlantic Spotted Beets keep wandering off, they could be responding to their natural migratory instinct that kicks in each spring. If you make sure that your beet pens are surrounded by fences at least eight feet high (they can--and will--jump over anything lower), you shouldn't have any more problems."

While I would also like to claim expertise in the field of applied stupidity, I have to put in a few more semesters before I earn my master's degree. However, from there I am assured that I'll be fast-tracked for the Advanced Stupidity Application PhD program. I'll provide more information on that as it develops.

Iron Chef America

It's okay. Certainly, it's head and shoulders above the absolutely painful Iron Chef USA, but it's still a mixed bag of entertainment. On the one hand, the guy that they have as the chairman is absolutely hilarious. He manages to be completely over-the-top with his gestures, his dialogue, and his mannerisms, but at the same time he makes you feel like you and he are sharing a private joke. And the little sound effects that they add to his karate moves that introduce the Iron Chefs? Win.

On the other hand, Alton Brown. Sometimes he's on the mark, but as a general rule, I would pay good money to punch Alton Brown in the face. Specifically, he needed a good firm smack (possibly with a rolled-up newspaper, or maybe a brass knuckle) during battle coffee. I get it--you're hyper because it's coffee--but I didn't want it in the first place. And is it just me, or does Kevin Brauch appear to be seething with barely-concealed resentment when Brown condescends to let him give the same explanation of the judging rules every episode?

For the judges, I can understand that the show's producers would want people who think differently because arguments mean drama, and drama means good television. The problem is that some of the judges are insufferable when they get to express their opinion. Andrew Knowlton comes across as prissy and elitist when he disagrees with his peers, quibbling over academic minutiae, picking apart the statements of the other panelists, and always needing to mutter the last word into his food like a spoiled eight-year-old. In contrast, Jeffrey Steingarten does an excellent job of voicing his opinion, frequently failing to agree with the other judges but still managing to sound like he is trying to offer constructive criticism, not just showing off. One is a tough but fair evaluator who is disappointed when chefs fail to meet his high standards, and the other is a petty control freak who throws a fit whenever the world around him refuses to meet his expectations. You never know what you're going to get.

I'll keep watching it (unless they keep adding new Iron Chefs; YOU ARE NOT WANTED, MICHAEL SYMON). In the meantime, I have compiled this list of items that I would like to see used as the central ingredient of future episodes battles:

Tic Tacs
Oatmeal
Jello
Goldfish (the cracker, but the pet might work as well)
butter
hot dogs
salt
scotch
bread
windex

Oh wait, this might actually be my grocery list.

A matter of perspective

Happiness really is all in your mind. For example, I was stuck behind a logging truck on my way to work last week. I was already late, and now I was stuck going less than the speed limit down a winding, two-lane country road that took half an hour to drive under the best of circumstances. It’s times like that when one is well served by cultivating a near psychotic detachment from reality, so that previously serious problems become trivial, or even helpful.

I realized that the logging truck was actually doing me a favor. After all, I could get in a fatal accident at any speed above 20 MPH, but thanks to his inability to make it up steep hills, there would be no danger of that. And, it gave me time to practice my Queen Elizabeth wave (you know the one, it goes elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, etc.) in case I ever find myself in a parade.

It worked so well that I tried to change my perspective on other issues in my life:

-Our well pump was supposed to break. If we had a reliable source of clean water, I wouldn’t have been forced to meet my next door neighbors, who are really great people (as evidenced by the fact that they ran over 300 feet of hose from their house to ours). It also helped to teach me about the importance of water conservation. It’s NOT a renewable resource, people!

-All these bills help me to “keep it real.” Money would just go to my head. And this way, I can really be sure that I’ve got my priorities in order. Who needs both clean clothes AND a hot meal, right? Because that’s just getting greedy.

-Yeah, our heat pump doesn’t cool our house at all, and may even be broken. But I could stand to sweat off some unwanted pounds; I stopped being able to see my ribs, and it made me feel totally chubby. Also, this solves our problem of not having any hot meals.

-These ants aren’t infesting our house. They’re graciously sacrificing themselves to keep the hordes of spiders around here well fed. As long as there are plenty of ants blundering around and walking into the spider webs hidden in the walls and behind the furniture, the spiders won’t go back to roaming the halls where I can see them.

-And we need a lot of hulking spiders looming in the dark corners of the house. If anything, they have to be BIGGER, because at their current, half-the-size-of-my-fist stature, they can barely hold their own against all the wasps that set up shop outside.

-And those wasps. Thank god the wasps are here because—

You know what? I can’t do this anymore. If I keep this up, I’d have to give myself a wedgie and shove my head in the toilet, because I’d be completely insufferable.

This Will Not Become a Blog of Fear

I’m undecided as to whether “growing up” is something that happens in one pivotal moment (“Congratulations, today, you have become a man/woman (as applicable)”), or something that happens so gradually that you don’t even notice.

Okay, that’s a lie. Only a complete moron or someone in need of a cheap rhetorical device would think that growing up is anything other than the sum of the hundreds of small moments in our lifetimes that shape who we are and what we value.

Unless you define “growing up” as “being recognized as legally able to drink.” That’s pretty important, but also centered around one specific point in time.

However it happened, I have grown up, and my fears have grown up with me. For example:

Attics. Yes, they still make spooky noises, but I’m not as worried about vampires. Was that thump just the house settling, or a family of squirrels moving in? What if it’s something bigger, like raccoons? Or buffalo?

Faucets. The irregular flow isn’t caused by demonic possession. It’s our well. Is it going to run dry for the fourth time? Are we going to need another new pump? Will we be forced to filter and drink our own pee?

Cars. Evil cars won’t run me down while I cross the street. But is the car I’m driving about to fail? Why hasn’t it shifted to the next gear? Is that smell coming from my car, or the one in front of me? Was that noise always there? Can I fix it by turning up the radio?

Closed doors. My boss isn’t conducting satanic rituals behind her closed office door. And I’m reasonably certain she’s not shedding her human disguise so that her gills can air out properly. But what is she discussing in there? Raising insurance co-pays? Freezing salary increases? Firing me because of that time I wore white pants after labor day?

Coughs. It may have taken me over ten years, but I’m not afraid of Captain Tripps anymore. But does that cough mean a trip to the emergency room? Or billing disputes? Why do all the really scary symptoms develop outside of the doctor’s normal office hours?

Ground cover. The undead hands of the vengeful dead aren’t going to erupt from the ground to rip at my flesh, but what is lurking in those leaves? We picked up six ticks in our backyard last season, how many are waiting for us this summer? Isn’t there an effective lawn treatment that will drive them off? Will napalm work?

Sure, I might have scoffed at this list when I was younger, but that’s because I had some growing up to do.