My thanks to Copilot for the following response to my apparently inspiring prompt.
So I decided to write a blog post. But then I thought, “Why write a blog post when I can get AI to write it for me?” That’s right—I outsourced my creativity to a robot. I used to feel guilty about that, but then I remembered I once ate a whole cheesecake while watching a documentary on healthy living. Guilt and I are not close friends.
Using AI to write a blog post is like hiring a personal trainer who does the push-ups for you. You just sit there, sipping coffee, while the AI flexes its algorithmic muscles. I told it, “Make it sound like me—funny, clean, slightly confused by technology.” And it said, “Processing request.” Which is robot for “I got this, human. Go eat another slice of cheesecake.”
The weird part is, the AI is really good. It even added a joke about my laziness before I could. I was like, “Hey! That’s my brand!” But then I realized, if the AI starts doing stand-up, I’m out of a job. I’ll be replaced by a toaster with a tight five on gluten-free bread. “What’s the deal with sourdough starters? They’re like needy pets you can’t cuddle!”
In the end, I still had to read the blog post, tweak a few things, and pretend I did all the work. So technically, I collaborated with AI. It’s like co-writing with someone who never sleeps, never eats, and doesn’t judge you for wearing pajama pants at 3 p.m. Honestly, it’s the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ask the AI to write a thank-you note to my fridge. It’s been through a lot.
Here we go again, Rolling Stone - another "Greatest Song" that was never released as a single, let alone showed up on a Billboard chart of any persuasion: "Whipping Post" by The Allman Brothers Band.
And you have the nerve to say - about a song I've never heard or heard of - "This enduring anthem was written on an ironing board in a darkened Florida bedroom by Allman. Leaping off with a rumbling Berry Oakley bass line, rife with tormented blues-ballad imagery and punctuated by Duane Allman's knifelike guitar incisions, the song is best appreciated in the twenty-three-minute incarnation on At Fillmore East."
Well, sorry, but I guess I'm stuck only appreciating the 5-minute version in the lyric video I found on YouTube.
I'll accept that as not being the best amount of appreciation, but hopefully it's not the worst.
Is it okay if I have a modicum of appreciation?
A tad?
What exactly is acceptable in terms of appreciating this thing?
In the Scriptural account of Lazarus, I am left with a burning question.
For the uninitiated, let me summarize:
Lazarus was the brother of Mary and Martha. The three of them were close friends of Jesus and apparently hosted him and his band of unschooled ruffians at the family homestead from time to time.
As the story goes (in John 11), Lazarus got sick. Mary and Martha sent word to Jesus, hoping he would rush to their side and heal their brother, as they had seen him heal so many others.
Unexpectedly, Jesus didn't jump up, put on his sandals, and hightail it to Bethany. Instead, he waited until Lazarus died, THEN headed out.
He arrived four days after the funeral. They had already wrapped Lazarus up and put him in a tomb. In fact, when Jesus walked to the gravesite and asked for the stone sealing the entrance to be rolled away, Martha warned him that it wasn't going to smell very good. (I love the King James Version at this point: "Lord, by this time, he stinketh.")
But they did as Jesus asked and Jesus brought Lazarus back to life!
It's a great story, and is pivotal in the narrative arc of Jesus being despised and eventually killed through the efforts of the religious leaders in Jerusalem.
But what never gets talked about...by John or any other Biblical writer...is the fact that Lazarus didn't stay resurrected forever. There is no reason to doubt that sometime after all these events, either because of old age, or persecution by the Romans, or getting sick, Lazarus died...again.
Well, to be truthful, I am concerned about the present of humanity and whether there will BE any future.
Let me explain...
I had to go to a local bank and renew my signatory status on a particular account.
I was ushered into a bank associate's office where I sat down, and a small, dark pad with some unknown significance was pushed to my side of the desk. It seems I would be using the attached, inkless pen to sign my name on the pad and my signature would be electromagically placed in a computer document.
The bank associate informed me that "this first signature is to give us permission to use your electronic signature instead of actually signing a piece of paper."
I immediately burst out laughing.
I thought it was hilarious that I was electronically signing something to authorize the electronic signing of things. How could that electronic signature be seen as authoritative without me having already signed such a document?
The bank associate smiled and said, "You're the only person who has ever seen how silly this is."
My concern for humanity's future isn't the irony of electric signatures to authorize electric signatures. My concern for humanity's future is that, out of the hundreds of people this bank associate has walked through the process, I am the only one to notice the irony.
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