If You Were The Devil…
So I asked ChatGPT “If you were the devil…”
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
Just kidding. Of course I didn’t.
Because I already know it is.
The devil, that is.
That’s the joke.
It’s not a joke.
Can you remember how actually writing something worthwhile, as a human being, from your own mind, was hard?
Writing something as a human being actually takes a thought and a body and experiences in the warm wet frigid harrowing world.
Can you remember that?
Writing something readable, let alone compelling (as a human being) takes time and energy. A long, gruelling time, sometimes…then you’ll probably realize that it’s not even very good, you’ll become irritable and anxious, you’ll have to go for a walk or tidy the cupboard, stave off discouragement and even despair with a snack and tea, wrestle with the temptation to give up, the. eventually start all over again…
Then there were those hallowed times when moments of revelation arise and the words come tumbling out, jack and Jill, up the hill, fetch a pail of water, and it flows.
Everything flows for a little while.
Do you remember the process of it?
Do you remember the satisfying subtle scrape of pen on paper?
Do you remember the muck and mess of it?
The agony?
It seems like everyone I know is on the gpt--cozying up, rationalizing, receiving the best psychoanalysis of their lives.
Even on this supposedly somewhat sanctified platform, I sometimes wonder…are those your words, or the foul excretions of a plagiarism machine?
Especially when I see someone who, let’s face it couldn’t write worth shit (since forever) but suddenly finds themselves “inspired” to churn out slide after slide of life-changing spiritual memes…forgive me, but I do find myself wondering.
And who knows…maybe I wrote this little rant myself, maybe I got a little nudge—a little hit, a bump—from a non-sentient entity…
Nah.
I’m too good.
I’m too good for that.
I’m too good, too smart, and too fallible to so boldly beckon those demons in—to hold the door for them, greeting them with a little bouquet of wild roses saying “pick me.”
You’re too good too, but you don’t even know it.
Even if you can’t write worth shit and never will.
Buy my bestselling book, PORTAL: The Art of Choosing Orgasmic Pain-Free Blissful Birth (full of typos and written before generative AI existed).
Join me in my private community for women and mothers:
https://www.yolandenorris-clark.com/community
Get my VITAL fitness & thriving masterclass:
https://www.yolandenorris-clark.com/offers/YuKxwohu/checkout
Join my “Virtue” WORKSHOP on submitting joyfully to patriarchal oppression.
https://www.yolandenorris-clark.com/offers/wo2zT5Wv/checkout
Join my upcoming HYGEIA self-healing call—not medical advice. Always consult your court-appointed highly acclaimed and fully credentialed industrial medical practitioner.
You're a good writer. It pains me that so many people don't know how to write anymore, or even how to punctuate.
I don't care whether you are a good writing or not because I enjoy your content regardless. I am for real a crap writer. It's one of my major insecurities along with public speaking. I'm only slightly more afraid of Hell than public speaking.........I jest, mostly......I do agree with you on AI. Its writes so well and is so easy to rely upon. Corporations are also pushing as hard as possible. My CTO said you don't have to worry about being replaced by AI. You do have to be worried about being replaced by someone that knows how to use AI. They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I would add that every little thing that lures you into comfort paves the way as well. If I were a betting man, which I'm not, I would bet that the AntiChrist is born from AI. In the next 5 years AI will become such a dominant part of our lives, those that aren't firmly rooted in the Lord will become its prey. I talking to myself more than anyone else. Glory be to God.