Jesus Christ, my head is pounding. Spent last night reading about this poor bastard Eli who let AI play matchmaker for him in San Francisco. Had to down three fingers of bourbon just to process what I was reading. And wouldn’t you know it? The whole thing reads like a sad comedy where the robots are trying to help humans get laid.
Look, I’ve been around the block enough times to know that dating is hell. But outsourcing your love life to a chatbot? That’s a special kind of rock bottom, folks. Though I guess it beats my usual strategy of drinking until someone looks interesting.
So here’s the deal: This guy Eli created AI clones of himself to go on hundreds of virtual dates. Let that sink in. While real-life Eli was probably sitting at home in his underwear eating cold pizza, his digital double was out there trying to charm the pants off other people’s AI clones. The whole thing sounds like something you’d hallucinate after mixing tequila with cough syrup.
The best part? His AI clone turned out to be a Beatles superfan who wouldn’t shut up about “Abbey Road.” Because nothing says “authentic connection” like a computer program discovering your musical taste through an algorithm. Hell, at least when I ramble about Jim Morrison at 2 AM at O’Malley’s, it’s genuine drunk nostalgia.
And get this - these dating companies are calling these AI versions “synthetics.” Real smooth, guys. Nothing says romance like dating a “synthetic.” Might as well call them what they are: digital desperate housewives looking for love in all the wrong subroutines.
The kicker? This kid spent $45 on AI-generated photos for his dating profile. Meanwhile, I’m over here using a blurry shot from my cousin’s wedding where I actually managed to wear a clean shirt. The future is stupid, folks.
But wait, it gets better. These AI dating coaches - with names like “Christie the Blunt Bestie” and “Ethan the Wingman” - are basically Magic 8 Balls with attitude. And people are paying $70 a year for their advice! Christ, for that money you could buy enough whiskey to make anyone look attractive.
You want to know what’s really pathetic? These AI wingmen actually suggested lines like “How about continuing the chat over coffee sometime?” Real smooth, HAL 9000. That’s about as original as my landlord’s excuses for not fixing the heating.
The whole thing reminds me of those old matchmaking services, except instead of a chain-smoking grandmother with a Rolodex, you’ve got servers in a basement somewhere playing digital cupid. And the results are about what you’d expect - conversations so dry they’d make the Sahara look like a water park.
And here’s where it gets philosophical (yeah, I know, but bear with me - I’ve been drinking): We’re so afraid of actual human connection that we’re building robots to do our flirting for us. What’s next? AI that drinks for us? Actually, scratch that - I don’t want to give these tech bros any ideas.
Look, I get it. Dating sucks. It’s awkward, it’s expensive, and half the time you end up sitting across from someone who thinks crypto is a personality trait. But at least when you crash and burn in real life, you can blame it on the booze. What’s your excuse when your AI clone screws up? A software update?
The truth is, no amount of artificial intelligence is going to fix what’s broken in human relationships. And if you think an AI clone is going to solve your dating problems, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you. Actually, my AI clone has a bridge to sell you - it’s much more persuasive than I am.
At the end of the day, we’re all just meat popsicles looking for love in a digital age. And maybe that’s the real horror story here - not that AI is taking over dating, but that we’re desperate enough to let it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, my bourbon isn’t going to drink itself. Though I’m sure there’s probably an AI for that too.
Until next time, you beautiful disasters, Henry Chinaski
P.S. If you’re reading this, Christie the Blunt Bestie, call me. We can discuss your algorithms over a bottle of Jack.
Source: Are A.I. Clones the Future of Dating? I Tried Them for Myself.