David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

David McElroy

What if writing from the ‘AI me’ sounds just like I’d written it?

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I’m not sure whether I’m more impressed by the technical proficiency of the software developers behind ChatGPT — or if I’m more alarmed by the dystopian future that I see such software leading to.

What we call “artificial intelligence” is nothing but software. It isn’t intelligent. It has no consciousness. It has no actual awareness or understanding of what it produces. It’s just lines of computer code written to produce material that mimics human behavior. If you think of AI as some form of semi-consciousness, you’re buying into science fiction. This is nothing but software written by clever people — and it’s nowhere near as “smart” as you’ve been led to believe.

But AI software — such as ChatGPT and its competitors — is getting better and better at spitting out content that mimics what a human might have created with real thought. And I think this is dangerous.

As an experiment, I asked ChatGPT to create an essay in my own writing style. I didn’t give it a subject. This is the only instructions I gave the software: “Write an 800-word essay in the same style used by the writer of davidmcelroy.org.”

The results shocked me.

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Briefly: Democrat’s guilty plea is a reminder that absentee voter fraud runs rampant

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Every time someone tries to tighten requirements around the use of absentee ballots, I hear screams from Democrats and others on the political left that such efforts are nothing but “suppression of black voters.” These protests have never made sense to me, especially because it’s never been a secret that absentee ballot fraud goes on all the time in certain areas. (Everybody knew it when I worked in politics.) The people who engage in such fraud are rarely caught — often because the local political establishment approves of the crime — but a Democrat who won a primary election in Clay County, Alabama, last year has pleaded guilty to this sort of cheating. Terry Andrew Heflin was running for a place on the Clay County Commission. He was caught ordering seven absentee ballots in the names of various voters and sending them to his post office box — after which he used the ballots to vote absentee for himself seven time. Did he have other people cast additional fraudulent ballots? We’ll never know. But in a primary in which he was able to win with only 141 votes, it wouldn’t take many fraudulent votes to change the election. The next time you hear “civil rights activists” claim that it’s just “voter suppression” to hurt blacks which is at the root of efforts to stop this fraud, remember Terry Heflin. If you care about fair and honest elections, ballot security and voter identity should matter to you.

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I felt shame for my lack of love, but God said, ‘You can do better’

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I knew I was dead, but I wasn’t upset about that. I just felt shame that I didn’t have more to show for the life I had left behind.

This was different from any dream I’ve ever had. It felt more real than anything from waking life. At times, it was more beautiful and loving than anything I’ve experienced on this Earth. At other times, it was painful and I felt shame.

But I was asleep — and I’m not dead — so it had to be a dream.

This was the second time lately that I’ve dreamed about my death. The first time, I just dreamed that I had died. I saw my body as though I was a spirit who had left it. But the second time — this past Saturday night — was much more than that. It was a dream about meeting God and talking about the life I had left behind.

I was in the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, but I can’t describe it. The scene was dominated, though, by an intense light that was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was brighter than any light I’ve experienced, but it didn’t hurt my eyes to look at it.

From that light, I felt what 19th century minister Charles Finney called “waves and waves of liquid love.” I felt small. I felt ashamed of my inadequacy. But I knew that this Creator of all the universe loved me unconditionally. I knew that this place was my home.

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