When the Machines Start Libeling You: ChatGPT's Norwegian Nightmare

So, some poor bastard in Norway, name of Arve Hjalmar Holmen – sounds like a character out of a goddamn Ibsen play, right? – this guy goes and asks ChatGPT, that digital oracle everyone’s so hot and bothered about, “Who am I?” And the damn thing spits back, “You’re a child murderer.”

Yeah, you heard that right. Accused him of offing his own kids. Cold. Colder than a witch’s… well, you get the picture.

Grok This: X's AI Oracle and the Slow Death of Truth

Alright, you digital degenerates, pull up a stool. It’s Thursday, which means the week’s almost bled out, and my liver’s screaming for a transfusion of something stronger than server-room coffee. Speaking of screaming, have you seen this shitshow over on X, formerly known as the bird app that crapped all over our collective consciousness?

Seems some folks are treating Elon’s pet AI, Grok, like it’s the goddamn Oracle of Delphi, only instead of cryptic pronouncements about the future, it’s spewing out “facts” about the present. And, surprise, surprise, it’s about as reliable as a politician’s promise.

The Cookie Crumbles: AI, Bias, and the Illusion of Fairness

Alright, pour yourself a stiff one, because we’re diving headfirst into the digital sewer. This NYU News piece, “Navigating trust in an age of increasing AI influence,” – catchy, right? Sounds like something a marketing robot coughed up after too many lines of binary code – it’s got me reaching for another glass of bourbon, and it’s only, what, mid-afternoon on a Wednesday?

The gist of it is this: AI is everywhere, it’s biased as hell, and we’re all supposed to just… trust it? Coca-Cola’s using it to hawk sugary swill, German political parties are crafting fantasy worlds with it, and the Los Angeles Times tried to build a “bias meter” that ended up sounding like a Klansman’s PR flack. It’s a goddamn circus, and we, my friends, are the clowns.

Grok This: When AI Gets a Dirty Mouth and a God Complex

So, the suits over at Forbes are talking about Grok, Elon’s latest brainfart, this “unhinged” AI chatbot. Seems like everyone’s favorite billionaire man-child decided that what the world really needed was a digital parrot that could swear and maybe, just maybe, decide what’s true and what’s not based on which way the wind’s blowing on Mars.

They’re calling it “unhinged.” I call it another Wednesday. Only difference is, my unhinged-ness comes with a glass of something brown and a nicotine stain on my index finger. Grok’s unhinged-ness? Apparently, it comes with a premium subscription. Because, of course, even digital rebellion has to be monetized.

The AGI Wet Dream: Perfection, My Ass

So, some Forbes contributor – probably never had a real job in their life – is yapping about AGI and how everyone’s got it wrong. They’re saying the whole “perfect intelligence” thing is a load of bull. And you know what? For once, I think one of these overpaid think-piece jockeys might have stumbled onto something resembling a truth, probably while tripping over their own shoelaces.

The gist of it, as I slurped down my third bourbon of the early afternoon (hey, it’s research), is that this whole idea of Artificial General Intelligence being some kind of flawless, Spock-like logic machine is pure fantasy. We’re talking about building a brain, a digital one, sure, but a brain nonetheless. And brains, as anyone who’s ever woken up next to a stranger with a questionable tattoo can attest, are messy.

AI, Grief, and the Worst Hangover Prose I've Ever Seen

So, some suit over at OpenAI, Sam Altman – you know, the guy who probably dreams in binary code – is gushing about his new AI model’s creative writing skills. He’s practically wetting himself on X (that bird app, whatever), calling it “beautiful and moving.” Jeanette Winterson, someone I’m supposed to respect, apparently agrees.

Me? I read the damn thing and nearly choked on my morning whiskey. Which, granted, is a daily occurrence, but this time it wasn’t just the usual Sunday morning self-loathing.

The Ghost in the Machine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Algorithmic Sob Story

Alright, pour yourself a stiff one, folks, because we’re diving headfirst into the uncanny valley. And by “uncanny valley,” I mean the latest literary bowel movement from our friends at OpenAI. Apparently, they’ve taught their silicon Frankenstein to write short stories now. This one’s all about grief, AI, and…marigolds. Yeah, marigolds. Because nothing says “existential dread” like a flower your grandma used to plant.

The story’s called, uh… well, it’s not called anything, really. It’s more like a generated output. But the human who slapped it on the internet, one Jeanette Winterson, deemed it “beautiful and moving.” Which, coming from a literary type, probably means it made her cry into her artisanal, fair-trade coffee. I, on the other hand, just reached for another bourbon.

A.I. DOCS: BETTER THAN HUMANS OR JUST LESS HUNGOVER?

My head’s throbbing like a bass drum at a death metal concert. I made the mistake of mixing bourbon with tequila last night at O’Malley’s while arguing with some Stanford grad about whether his startup was going to “revolutionize pet wellness” or just burn through daddy’s venture capital.

The whiskey’s sitting on my desk, but I’m not touching it. Not yet. It’s 7:30 AM on a Saturday, and I still have some standards. Give me another hour.

The Art Market's Latest Hustle: AI Paintings for Rich People Who Don't Get Art

Another Friday morning, another hangover, another story about rich people trying to convince themselves they understand both art and technology. Christie’s, that fancy auction house where billionaires go to launder their reputations, is holding their first AI art auction. They’re calling it “Augmented Intelligence” because apparently “Computer Goes Brrr” didn’t test well with their focus groups.

Let me take a sip of bourbon and break this down for you.

You know what’s funny about this whole thing? These collectors who wouldn’t know a neural network from a fishing net are suddenly experts in computational art. They’re the same folks who probably think debugging means removing insects from their summer homes.

Gen Z Prefers Robot Overlords to Human Bosses, Study Reveals

Look, I need another cup of coffee and two aspirin before I can fully process this, but apparently the kids these days would rather take career advice from a chatbot than their flesh-and-blood managers. Can’t say I blame them - have you met middle management?

A new study from Pearl.com (yeah, I hadn’t heard of them either) drops this bombshell: 41% of Gen Z workers trust AI more than humans. Let that sink in while I pour myself something stronger than coffee. These digital natives would rather confide in an algorithm than Karen from HR.