I slapped together a poorly written 300-word description of last week’s family reunion in Colorado Springs, highlighting our cog rail trip up Pike’s Peak. Exercising my lazy prerogative, I submitted the brief write-up to ChatGPT to see what would become of it.
ChatGPT is scary.
Following is the prompt I used. At the end of it I copy/pasted the entire 300-word essay of my own into the prompt field.
“Re-write the following as an 800-word essay, in the voice of a happy-go-lucky yet sincere and highly educated cowboy named Roy. Allow Roy's speech to include several unexpected, obscure big words as part of his conversational style. Make it plagiarism-free.”
ChatGPT’s response (about 10 seconds later):
Howdy there, folks! Gather ‘round and lend an ear while ol’ Roy regales you with the tale of our most recent familial convocation in the resplendent state of Colorado. Yessiree, last week was the much-anticipated Family Reunion, and boy, was it a cornucopia of joy and adventure!
First off, let me paint you a picture of our grand expedition up Pike’s Peak. Me, the kiddos, and the grandkiddos boarded the electric cog rail, a marvel of modern engineering, I tell ya. This here summit stands tall at an elevation of 14,115 feet above sea level, a veritable apex of natural grandeur. We found ourselves crammed into an electric rail car with 45 of my newest, closest comrades for the hour and ten-minute ascent. It was an intimate, albeit slightly sardined, journey that fostered camaraderie amongst us sojourners.
The cog rail, as it happens, was constructed by a company from Switzerland. Now, if there’s any nation that epitomizes expertise in mountainous endeavors, it’s the Swiss. Their proclivity for precision engineering is nothing short of remarkable, and they sure didn’t disappoint with this marvel.
Before we embarked on our high-altitude adventure, a sonorous voice from the loudspeaker imparted a sage admonition: “Hydrate copiously!” The altitude, you see, can be a capricious beast. We scurried to the gift shop only to find it bereft of bottled water. However, for the princely sum of ten dollars, they did offer a plastic bottle. I parted with my ten dollars and now possess a souvenir water bottle of prodigious sentimental value. For the frugal-minded, the water fountain nearby provided hydration gratis.
The ride up included sections at a precipitous 25-degree angle. I tell ya, it was steep enough to make even the most stalwart among us grip our seats a tad tighter. Those poor souls seated backwards faced the perilous prospect of sliding right out of their seats. It was a jolly rollercoaster of a ride both up and down, and it made for a delightful escapade.
Upon reaching the summit, we were greeted by weather so clear and cold it felt as if the very air was crystallized—around 40 degrees Fahrenheit, if I had to hazard a guess. As we reveled in the breathtaking panorama, who should we encounter but Ron and Sue, along with their progeny. We hadn’t laid eyes on them in years, so this serendipitous rendezvous was a delightful surprise.
After descending from our lofty adventure, we moseyed over to Manitou Springs for a hearty repast. With our bellies full, we decided to immortalize the day with an old-time photograph at a local studio. We donned townie attire and, in a departure from tradition, opted not to brandish firearms for the picture. Rest assured, we’ve handled guns before, but this day was about peace and conviviality.
Back at the hotel, the festivities continued in earnest. Cousin Doug, ever the archivist, regaled us with digital images of our forebears on a grandiose screen. He had the under-10 crowd guessing who was who among their ancestors, a whimsical and enlightening exercise that bridged generations.
Meanwhile, Cousin Jennifer had everyone engrossed in a creative endeavor—screen printing tee shirts and assorted memorabilia. The room buzzed with creativity and laughter, a testament to the indomitable spirit of our family. It was a heartwarming reminder of the ties that bind us together.
The entire weekend was a resounding success, a veritable smorgasbord of joy and togetherness. As I sit here reflecting on the events, I find myself eagerly anticipating our next reunion in two years. Not just for the joy of the gathering, mind you, but also with a sense of relief that someone else will be saddled with the herculean task of organizing the event.
So there you have it, folks—a weekend filled with high-altitude adventures, serendipitous encounters, and heartfelt family bonding. Until next time, keep your spirits high and your hearts open. Roy signing off, wishing y’all a splendid day!
As I said, ChatGPT is scary.
On an unrelated note, this week I worked through an exercise to explain to someone how to create a Substack post, and then record and post a video. To do this, I needed some random text.
I prompted ChatGPT to write an 800-word essay explaining the importance of the rule of law in an ordered society, using examples from American history.
Chat wrote it in less time than it takes to type this sentence. He quoted from James Madison in Federalist 51 and cited other snippets from U.S. history. Much of it hinted that racism and bigotry were only overcome by strict adherence to the rule of law, so I detect a twinge of bias. Generally, however, the essay was quite credible.
Yes, scary.
It seems that Chat’s artificial intelligence makes wide use of things we know. I sense, however, there is a quite blurry line between established fact and value judgment; one bleeds over into the other based on whatever algorithm dictates such things.
Thus, the one who makes the rules, rules. Pandora’s box.
This is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in our time.
And on that happy thought, Ol’ Roy says, “Have a great weekend!”
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