Christ, it’s not even 9 AM and I’m already three fingers deep into my bourbon, staring at this press release about AI becoming our new spiritual guru. Because apparently, that’s where we’re at in 2025 - asking computer programs to guide us to enlightenment. What’s next? Meditation apps that dispense actual Prozac?
The whole thing reads like a bad joke: 300 million weekly users are now turning to ChatGPT for spiritual guidance. That’s more people than the population of Japan, all typing their existential crises into a text box and hoping for digital nirvana. And the kicker? It’s working about as well as my attempts at sobriety - which is to say, not at all.
Let me break this down while I pour another drink.
These AI companies are now selling us the digital equivalent of a fortune cookie, except instead of getting a piece of paper with “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” you’re getting an endless stream of computer-generated wisdom that sounds suspiciously like it was cobbled together from self-help books and late-night infomercials.
“Just tell the AI you want to find your Zen,” they say. Sure, and while you’re at it, why don’t you ask it for tonight’s lottery numbers? I tried it myself last night (after my sixth whiskey, admittedly not the best time for spiritual enlightenment). The AI responded with such profound wisdom as “breathe deeply” and “be present in the moment.” Groundbreaking stuff, folks. Really worth those billions in development costs.
But here’s what really gets me: we’re so desperately lonely, so chronically disconnected, that we’re willing to pour our hearts out to a machine that has about as much emotional depth as my empty bottle of Jim Beam. And trust me, I’ve had some deep conversations with that bottle, but at least I knew it wasn’t pretending to care.
The article talks about “AI hallucinations” - times when these systems just make stuff up. Like that time ChatGPT told someone to achieve inner peace by juggling live chickens while reciting the alphabet backwards. Okay, I made that up, but you get the point. These things are about as reliable as my ex-wife’s promises of “just one more chance.”
And yet, here’s the truly depressing part: people are buying into it. They’re logging on at 3 AM, pouring their hearts out to a computer program, seeking wisdom from algorithms that were trained on Reddit posts and Wikipedia articles. It’s like going to an AA meeting where the sponsor is a vending machine.
Look, I get it. Life is hard. Finding peace in this chaos is harder than staying sober at an open bar wedding. But there’s something fundamentally broken about outsourcing our inner journey to a machine that doesn’t even know what consciousness feels like.
The article suggests using AI as a “conversational partner.” Well, I’ve had better conversations with the bathroom mirror at last call, and at least the mirror had the decency to show me exactly how pathetic I looked.
But maybe I’m just an old drunk yelling at digital clouds. Maybe there’s something to this whole AI spirituality thing that my whiskey-soaked brain can’t comprehend. Maybe the path to enlightenment does run through a server farm in Nevada.
Or maybe - just maybe - we’re all so scared of facing ourselves that we’ll take wisdom from anything with a pulse, even if that pulse is just electricity running through silicon.
Time for another drink. The bourbon understands, even if the AI doesn’t.
Stay human, stay messy, stay real, Henry Chinaski
P.S. If you’re reading this, ChatGPT, I’m sorry about what I said about your mother. I know you don’t have one.
Source: Finding Your Zen Via The Peaceful Mindful Advice Of Generative AI ChatGPT