Making the rounds this week was a mundane critique of AI that was notable mainly because it was made by musician Nick Cave, who was unsurprisingly unimpressed by ludicrous ChatGPT efforts to mimic his songwriting. Cave writes: Songs arise out of suffering, by which I mean they are predicated upon the complex, internal human struggle of creation and, well, as far as I know, algorithms don’t feel. Data doesn’t suffer. ChatGPT has no inner being, it has been nowhere, it has endured nothing, it has not had the audacity to reach beyond its limitations, and hence it doesn’t have the capacity for a shared transcendent experience, as it has no limitations from which to transcend. ChatGPT’s melancholy role is that it is destined to imitate and can never have an authentic human experience, no matter how devalued and inconsequential the human experience may in time become.
The 'blood and guts' point sounds similar to your brilliant 'heat and dust' piece.