The risk of losing our dopiness – returning to AI

Posted: January 1, 2026 | Author: | Filed under: Matters that Matter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I wrote recently how AI is being used by people to create videos falsely depicting lovely moments of life that cannot and shouldn’t be planned.

You know the kind I mean. Those little dopamine hit videos, like:

  • dogs falling off couches and landing on it’s owners testicles,
  • frisbees bouncing off someone’s head and going into the ‘goal’,
  • and road incidents in which everyone comes close to dying but fortunately doesn’t.

Those types of videos.

The ‘Isn’t Life Lovely?’ videos you sneaked peeks at whilst on computer lessons at school in the old days, which are now the videos you stay up watching on your phone in bed.

They make you feel dopey from the dopamine.

Sadly, these are the ones people are trying to replicate using AI. I was concerned they were increasing. And now they’ve increased.

Watching compilations of ‘Isn’t life lovely?’ videos, the AI-produced fakery is now held amongst the compilations of real videos. And that means they’re being held amongst real life.

And it is ultimately depressing – the opposite of their point (aside from the attention gained for the person who directed AI to do it).

Of course, as a writer – there’s a chance my craft will be lost to AI (should anyone decide to task AI with writing something as inane as my work). But the risk of these fake videos replacing the real ones of cats pooing on the wedding cake, the ice pond breaking at the funniest moment, or simply a wonderful coincidence captured on CCTV – that’s worse.

Worse still, was when I was laying next to my wife in bed one morning and she was scrolling through social media videos. Sure enough, her algorithm brought her to a run of ‘Isn’t life lovely?’ videos – the exact kind we’re talking about here: the ones that are hilarious, unbelievable, relatable and representations of lovely real life – that’s what she thought they all were.

She couldn’t tell that a lot of them had been prompted by someone using AI to fake what is amongst the best of real life.

And that’s when I realised that I was now going to be watching similar videos, concerned that I wouldn’t be able to tell if they’re real.

And that’s hardly the point of them.

These videos are meant to be one of the best things the internet can do – demonstrations of lovely moments that remind you everything’s going to be ok: the parrot is dancing, the baby pulled a funny face at lunch, the granny said a swear word.

They shouldn’t fill you with depression whilst laying in bed early on a Saturday morning as a reminder that the future isn’t yours: it’s AI’s.

Actually, it’s not AI – it’s just going to be a future filled with erroneously bullshit content of talentless artists trying to capitalise on what is currently popular and increasingly easy.

Real life is only so easy if you let it happen. Trying to create those moments in reality is near-impossible (you can always ask Granny to swear – but the serendipitous spontaneity of the moment is lost).

And watching these moments, and laughing in wonderous joy at the crow landing on someone’s chair and saying “fuck off”, or the child flying high into the air when Dad’s jumped on the trampoline, or good old sneezing panda: they’re a part of our humanity.

Humanity isn’t just our empathy in times of tragedy or in helping others in need. It’s also our inherent dopiness as a species which partly explains why life is worth living and also why Alien Life hasn’t bothered sending us an email yet.

People say: “AI isn’t coming. It’s here.” and they’re right.

But it wasn’t always there – and there are things that were always here that we should cling on to with all our remaining and considerable might.

I’d include in that: going for a walk.

AI can’t seem to replicate that yet.

Sam

How do the fish feel during a tsunami?

Posted: December 26, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

These are the questions no one should be asking, or answering.

Even the fish don’t want to know.

And they don’t want anyone else to know.

The fish, they don’t like me so much, and I’ve heard they don’t have any feelings – so I’m quite the exception to the rule.

Hell of a rule. Hell of an exception.

Still, I picture it: a fish, going about it’s business – coming about 8th when it comes to being a cool vague kind of animal. And then the entirety of life as you know it suddenly shifts violently to the left for a few miles and then finding yourself in downtown Tokyo.

Or you’re an octopus, either very busy being an octopus or just casually being an octopus – doesn’t really matter, and then a wall of other sea creatures comes in from the left, again, and travels with you back to downtown Tokyo.

We all know octopuses, they don’t like spending time other than exactly how they wish. And having to commute to central Tokyo, through valleys and past factories, trying to simultaneously enjoying the rapidly passing and increasingly soggy scenery, whilst also avoiding eye contact with the other fish.

‘Tsunami traffic’ which is a cool thing to phrase because it is technically alliteration, unlike ‘technically alliteration’ which is just crap writing.

Would thoughts about what is and what isn’t ‘technically alliteration’ occur to an octopus enduring that tsunami traffic? There are many things that aren’t ‘technically alliteration’ – like my breakfast, which I need to make now.

As such, I’ll call it quits there when it comes to how things go for this fish/octopus.

Maybe I’ll return to it this evening.

I’ve an important blog about AI I need to return to too, but this currently ridiculousness takes priority.

Priority after breakfast.

Sam

HEY, 1800s USA, get your own huddled masses

Posted: October 5, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Being European – I can assure you we worked jolly hard to have the huddled masses we’ve earned over the millennia, to the point that we’ve begun to enjoy huddling en masse.

We call it ‘a nice get-together’ with everyone ever.

And huddled masses don’t come easy.

You need to prioritise turnips, parsnips and several other bullshit vegetables that are fantastic long-term (shelf-life, if you’ve a shelf to be able to implement such a phrase) but are sadly lacking when it comes to reasons for living.

That’s the formulae for masses and huddling.

And frankly the United States should know better – especially in the century in which it was actually happening. Plus it is simply audacious to covert another continent’s huddled masses – it simply generates traffic for ferries and that is most unbecoming.

And the 1800’s USA isn’t the only historical era of a country that requires a good telling-off.

It’s easy to pick-on 1930s Germany for obvious reasons, but how about the pre-Christ Rome? Can you think of a nation with a greater need to get a grip that the one that decided ‘outwards violently’ was the means to a comfortable life?

Yes, it certainly did lead to a comfortable life for many Romans at the time, but not the ones required to be violent and certainly not for the ones required to have violence visited upon them like some grotesque form of stabby-tourism.

Remember the Franks? No-one does, they became both forgotten and French – and Rome should apologise for the latter.

Then there’s everything China did to the Chinese for a period of time that exceeds the history of the planet.

I believe ancient Chinese politics was interrupted, rudely, by evolution of the original mammals at some point, according to the most excellent of Chinese record keeping (the Tang period suffered an economic disaster as fish became land-dwellers: the fisherman were furious about all the time they’d wasted being on a fucking boat).

And then, of course, Genghis Khan needs a good rebuking too – primarily on the grounds of murder.

But when it comes to the USA sidling up to my – MY – huddled masses and treating them with the lack of contempt they deserve – that’s an overstep that I cannot ignore.

Therefore I wrote a blog, and now really must move on to other things.

All the best to you, huddled or otherwise,

Sam

Getting to know your audience as a writer

Posted: August 25, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Matters that Matter | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Don’t.

Can you imagine? Ghastly.

Do you really want to associate with the sort of people who are inclined to read a blog like this?

Instead, get to know yourself, not your audience.

They are lucky if they happen upon you.

Focus on getting out what you want to share from within.

Use the words that only you know how to put in that particular sequence (or sparce lack thereof) and say what you’re thinking, feeling…writing.

Be unappreciated in your own time.

I am.

I try to be.

The pay is terrible but the hours saved from opening royalty checks makes it worth while.

If you want this to work, remember this is about WRITING.

READING only enters the picture as an afterthought (minus proofreading) and shouldn’t be encouraged.

All it takes is a little bit more YOU, and a little bit less THEM.

This writing, these words, are by and for you.

Write YOU.

E.g. I’ve spent approximately 8 minutes writing the above, and I feel better already

Not time well spent, perhaps, but then again I’m unappreciated in my own time – so when it comes to wasting hours; I’m loaded.

Sam

P.S Unrelated but I wanted to quickly emphasise that not all units of measurement are for polite company. I can’t be the only one. But I’ll follow-up on that.

Hey, stop being a dead guy

Posted: August 1, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Matters that Matter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Being all deceased in the corner over there.

Knock it off.

Act your age – you’re not ancient yet.

You’re starting to pong though.

Yes, ponging might be a sign of vibrant living, but I think you’re being a dead guy.

Is that your coffin?

Oh, you like coffins do you? Convenient and simple?

Well no, I don’t like them actually, I think they’re morbid to the point of you being a dead guy and you won’t admit it.

Look! You’re all stiff. Very inconvenient, what if there was a fire?

Convenient for a cremation, oh yes very droll, what with the coffin and all.

Definitely ponging though.

And you’re swelling, don’t deny it.

I’m not going to get too close, in case your pong pops. Gross.

Maybe if you behaved a bit differently, conducted yourself more properly, you wouldn’t give off this deadness.

It’s all about your attitude.

You’re coming across as someone who’s just wasting their time.

Stop being a dead guy, you big smelly metaphor.

Sam

Magnum Opuses for everyone

Posted: July 30, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’m confident that AI is having a profound impact already, let alone in terms of being something for people to blog about, but nevermind – let’s talk about magic.

Because we might as well, since that’s the stage we’re at.

I found something profoundly encouraging the other day whilst ChatGPTing.

I’d previously asked it to write a blog in the style of The Lateral Column (you might have heard of it) to see if it could compare. And it fairly much nailed it.

Bit worrying, since I like to think only I can be as inane as me, but this revealed that such irrelevant irreverence as my style of writing could be…commonplace.

And who’d want that?

I don’t want anything to write like I write, and you don’t want anyone to have to suffer reading as you currently are, due entirely to this style of writing.

Damn, damn, damn shame.

However, good news came shortly afterwards.

I asked the AI to repeat the same task, imitate my blog.

And, encouragingly, it turns out that Artificial Intelligence was having an off-day!

I read, and was delighted to be disappointed. It was a lame mimic of my blog, filled with bullet-point lists and jokes revolving around the sort of topics that unamusing people insist as a being humorous. Like cheese (wow, cheese, ‘ha‘ and then ‘ha‘ again).

I really started writing this blog today because I thought of the title and have tried to revolve it around the absurd suggestion of magnum opuses for everyone (like they’re free or mass produced). But I’ve struggled.

Instead, I could cobble together some nice bullet points (everyone likes a list), or an unamusing topic (like irony – what’s that about?).

But perhaps, I keep uploading my style of writing into the AI, en-mass and it gradually considers my blogs to be the example of what a blog should look like, and as hacks (bless ’em) look to imitate writing styles – they can all come to take examples proffered by AI, and thus, therefore and hence….magnum opuses for everyone!

That was lucky.

Sam

Claivoyance: my new side-racket

Posted: July 17, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I am not clairvoyant in regard to any supernatural ability or actual belief in communing with the dead.

But I am prepared to say similar things for money.

Some people need a side-hustle in today’s (and yesterday’s) economy, and other’s – like me – need a side-racket.

Blogging will only take you so far and frankly the criminality just isn’t worth it anymore.

So why not lean into the supernatural, and why not be openly honest about it being both completely nonsensical and something out of which I’m looking to make the most?

For example, right from the get-go:

“Oh it’s your deceased grandmother and she’d like to say hello.”

Possibly (I don’t know – I’m not clairvoyant)…

“Not the living one, the other one. The deceased grandmother that without question died and that we can’t prove isn’t telling me to tell you that everything’s going to be alright and that you should leave a considerable tip.”

And it is at this moment that, with no morbid disrespect meant, I truly do hope you happen to have a dead grandmother.

“By the way, this might not resonate, but your great-great-great-great-great grandfather is exceptionally proud of you. You might not know his name or what he looked like, but he’s pleased as punch as to how you’ve turned out and he’d also recommends a significant tip.”

I can even be vague if you’d like.

“Also, that thing that happened at that particularly non-specifiable time that you might recall…we’ll I’m aware of that.”

I could get a little wooden caravan, or…just a car (perhaps a wooden one)…and could host clairvoyance get-togethers amongst those that are looking for hope from someone distinctly unqualified to provide some, albeit at remarkable value for money.

Bargain hope – you need crystal balls to dish that kind of humanity out.

“Now, let me deal my tarot cards.

“Will it be Death, will it be Love?

“Ah, the Pick Up 5 Uno card. That’s worse than Death and Love, but at least Napoleon, Caeser and Alexander the Great can relate – they’ve had similar bad draws, and they’re all playing it in the corner. They can’t find the Risk box.“

Napoleon would make a tremendous ghost, being of average height in the corner and French – very spooky. Very French. Very average-height for the time.

People might flock to me to hear my relayings from the afterlife, inspired by 100% fiction (maybe 97% fiction, since I believe Napoleon, Caeser and Alexander the Great have all died at some point).

Actually, maybe just one flock, filled with those quite prepared for me to miss-guess their dead cat’s name from 1992 after multiple attempts, or to miss-diagnose your financial worries as gout.

Being honest and open about my lack of belief or particular supernatural powers, might ease their frustrations about the fact people die, including – eventually – them.

They’re just looking for a little bit of hope after all.

And I’m willing to give them that, at any price.

Discount wonder, half-price divinity and “I’ll knock a bit off since it got wet” belief.

Maybe even Bring and Bless in Bulk.

Sam

P.S – I also bend forks. You just grab them and bend them, and then you have that bent fork you really, really needed. Possibly some hope too.

Issues physically, facially, farcically

Posted: June 28, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

So.

So, so, so (as the Cat in the Hat said)…

There’s not enough space on the planet.

There’s not enough space now, because there’s not going to be enough space eventually.

Take holy war (take it, please) out of the equation, plus economic turmoil, climate migration and historic grudges ‘tween nations, and we’re still left with a problem that even bunk-beds can’t solve.

If humanity is to continue as per its namesake, then bunk-beds simply isn’t going to cut it, and nor will anything other than colonisation of the nearest, reddest planet.

Oh look, how convenient. Mars.

Bunk-beds on Mars, that’s practical.

Tolerating neighbours on this planet (and I’m talking about Earth – you’ve probably been there) just isn’t in the community spirit.

I’m talking about elbow-room, and I’m talking about elbow-room in the manner of someone more than ready to do some pretty effing serious elbowing if the neighbours start coming too close.

It’s going to get physical, before it gets celestial.

Physical at my end especially, due to my FFF (Fat Fucking Face).

That’s cause enough for someone to want depart the planet for redder shores, but not without giving said FFF a good elbowing first.

And I’d elbow them back, partly due to the insult, partly due to the frustration of the insult being based in fact (FFFF – Fat Fucking Face Fact), and partly to take their spot in the galactic life boat to Mars.

They’d respond in kind to my unkind response, and we’d proceed to elbow each other until either one of us has departed the planet or until we’ve both realised that this amount of elbows to the face is only making our faces farcically fatter (FFFFF – Farcically Fat Fucking Face Fact).

It’s just water weight. Which is great since I understand Mars needs water.

I hope that makes sense.

Sam

Character flaws: something to stand on.

Posted: June 11, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When struggling, generally, I turn to writing.

I turn to it, because it is always behind me. Creeping up in prose.

Maybe I should do it more, since it’s inevitable, and I don’t like being crept up on.

Regardless…when I do turn to writing, amidst struggles, I like to focus on my weaknesses.

Humour makes the world go round, and sideways. My blog, and to a lesser extent – my life, is world-like.

Weaknesses, mine in particular, are a wonderful source of humour.

Like learning from my mistakes. I don’t indulge in that sort of thing.

I mentioned ‘turning’ earlier. Well, it’s more like spinning.

I 360 myself and step straight upon the rake that sent me spinning in the first place and ask myself: “can you believe this?”

Stupidity is the essence here, not the identity.

I’m not stupid, I know that much, I’m just struggling with lower level stuff, like progress.

I don’t progress, since I’m still figuring where I am. It’s hard to move forward from nowhere in particular.

You’ll know some people are goal-orientated. I’m not, but what is that ‘not’?

What’s the opposite of goal-orientation?

Procrastinating-manifestation? I do nothing, therefore I don’t?

Ultimately, I’m capable of the same errors I committed 20 years ago.

I’m terrified of my capacity to enjoy doing nothing, being swallowed up by demands upon my time; such as progress and learning.

It’s just not me. These are my essential aspects, the character flaws that make me.

Something to stand on.

Deduct these flaws and I’m still spinning, but the pirouette of my failings gives way to a roundabout with no exits, and other such awful metaphors.

I like not progressing.

I’m just more-me than ever, and I don’t require a goal to justify my existence, continuing or otherwise.

That being said, it does cause issues. Like boredom.

And so, I turn again to writing.

The other issue is that I upload my writing to a blog, this one, and then people like you have it thrust upon yourselves and have to deal with it.

Good luck.

Can’t blame me, I was just spinning.

Sam

I’d like to speak with someone in charge of the New World Order, thank you.

Posted: April 27, 2025 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’m thinking of starting a political blog, but frankly I’m still getting over Liz Truss.

I can’t quite believe that was allowed.

At a certain point in your upbringing, you come to appreciate that there are people in charge who oversee this sort of thing and make for certain that lunatics are only permitted to a moderate level of government – not the big job.

Not the job that affects me.

I’d have honestly hoped there was a cabal of people in dark suits in dark rooms, in which the lighting does’t quite reach their faces, one chap in a fez, another stroking a white and fluffy cat, all the same ilk of casually menacing potency, ready to stop Liz Truss from happening.

I have to say this, I’ve extremely disappointed in the New World Order.

If we’re being kept calm like chattel on the way to slaughter, I’d like to complain about the quality of this slaughterhouse’s economic situation.

We may all be about to die, but does the price of fruit and vegetables really have to take the piss as it currently does?

Can’t you picture the cabals’ shrouded faces, either in the aforementioned darkness or a genuine hood they’d wear, panicking as they rapidly email the senior minion in Puppet Recruitment to urgently rectify this error?

There’d probably be a crow in the room, just for aesthetics perhaps, but even the crow’s beak is hanging open when it’s coming to understand the secret rulers in the global elite have made a big whoopsie.

Everything is more expensive, everything is worse, Truss herself seems to be on a campaign of lunacy elevation in which she constantly ups her craziness whilst being very keen to clarify: “That’s not funny.“

When you can’t trust in the powers-that-secretly-be to keep business running as usual, there’s really little point in tolerating this status as a slave to the future of the oligarchy if things are going to be so rubbish on the way to grave.

I’m actually quite fond of the economy, it’s why I get up in the morning (that and my kids).

Its now been years since Truss, with no remedy in sight, even satire hasn’t worked.

I’m thinking maybe its time to throw off the shackles forged by whomever it is that’s oppressing us lately.

And then….well…then hope that there’s an even higher level of shadowy cabal that can make the route to final slaughter in the meat grinder of global supply chains a little less expensive fruit and veg-wise.

I really do need to find out that Complaints Procedure.

Anyone got a email for Putin so I can begin the process?

Sam

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