He splashed his name on the pisspot
Like theses nailed to a door,
Manifesto against the patrons
Of all that had gone before.
Now a conceptual wannabe
Artist gets busted occasionally
When he aims to take part
In a work of art
By unzipping his fly for a gallery pee.
Scalp
When in the course of human events
I go bald, I’ll flaunt scalp without pretense.
But when my chemo drugs strand me with that
Linus Van Pelt scalp look, toss me a hat.
Putting the AI in Faith
| Trained on religious texts, the bots are
like on-call priests, imams or rabbis, offering
comfort and direction at any time. On some platforms
they even purport to channel God. The “faith tech”
industry is booming.
– New York Times
|
Now that our chatbots have the voice of God,
How do we sort out blasphemy from fraud?
And what fallout should we anticipate
When AI deities hallucinate?
Chris O'Carroll
If you have any thoughts about these poems, Chris O'Carroll would like to hear them
