Tag Archives: Shem and Shaun

Sortofficial Undilligence

So-called “artificial Intelligence” is on everyone’s minds these days. And no wonder we’re all thinking of it: it’s everywhere we look.

Case in point: the other day, I stumbled across a website about Finnegans Wake that appears to be entirely composed by AI, including AI-generated “podcasts” that feature AI voices summarizing someone’s notes about the Wake. These “podcasts” are presented as YouTube videos that accompany this inane droning with AI slop images.

It’s hard for me to express sufficiently my contempt for this sort of thing. I struggle to imagine anything more anathema to the Wake‘s celebration of humanity than the abomination of chipper robot voices reading the book line by line and summarizing the annotations while peppering them with trite phrases (“Okay, now let’s unpack that…yeah, did you hear the circularity there?”). It’s uncanny, creepy, and pointless. I want to hear an actual person’s embodied experience with the text, not a lifeless, thoughtless machine. What is someone getting out of listening to robots, who have no experience and perspective and humanity?

This “artificial intelligence” is of course misnamed because there’s nothing remotely intelligent about a computer program that merely predicts the next likely word. They’re not “intelligent.” They’re generative large language models. They’re a glorified autocomplete that has eaten the internet and can quickly regurgitate mediocrity in the form of the statistical average.

And don’t think it’s lost on me that these pathetic, mindless robot programs have been trained to some extent on my own writing, as well as the writing of other devotees of the Wake, who put our work out there into the world in the hopes of instructing and delighting, and who are rewarded by having our efforts swept into the maw of a hideous funhouse mirror that apes what it means to be human.

I take comfort in the fact that these generative systems are still so bad at what they do and produce material far inferior to what a thinking human can. Seeing this so-called “AI” everywhere and shoved into everything makes me wonder if the self-styled geniuses pushing this technology are getting desperate. So much money has been invested into generative LLMs that the “tech bros” at the helm need this nonsense to be adopted everywhere to justify all the money they’ve been pouring into it. It’s unfortunate for them that their toy is still so miserable at what it’s supposed to do. That’s a lot of money they’ve wasted on an autocomplete. It’s unfortunate for the rest of us that this nonsense is going to wreak havoc on the economy for at least a time as short-sighted employers hand over more tasks to machines.

But what does FInnegans Wake itself have to say about true, human intelligence and creativity, and about the hollow aping of it?

Read on to find out more!

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The Prism of a Language Manycolored

I went on a ride on a speedboat over the holiday weekend, and I chose to remove my glasses, lest they fly off my face and into the water (I have lost more than one hat in such a way over the course of my life). As severely nearsighted as I am, I find that removing my glasses and going off somewhere without them makes me feel keenly vulnerable.

I reflected, of course, on James Joyce’s terrible eyesight, and this post will look at Joyce’s speculation in Portrait that his weak eyes gave him more pleasure at prose that reflects the “inner world” than prose that describes the external world. I will consider how Joyce uses that idea in Finnegans Wake.

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