Experiencing Archives - Home For Fiction

Experiencing

ChatGPT vs Gemini Turing Test: Hilarious but Insightful

August 12, 2024

art, communication, computer, consciousness, dreams, programming, writing

I recently read The Emperor’s New Mind, by Roger Penrose, and a small part of it describes the (in)famous Turing test. In simple terms, it’s a process where a machine (typically a computer) can demonstrate intelligence (and, some would argue, consciousness) enough to be indistinguishable from a human’s. With such intelligent and mature – cough, cough – artificial intelligence models like the ones we have today, the hilarious idea materialized: I should stage a ChatGPT vs Gemini Turing test!

Both Alan Turing himself and Penrose in his book expected future computers to be able to pass the test. Turing referred to a 30% success rate by the year 2000, whereas The Emperor’s New Mind, published in 1989, mentions the year 2010. In any case, to me it seems Turing would certainly assume a large language model like ChatGPT or Google’s Gemini to pass the test.

I mean, it almost feels like magic: You ask it questions and it answers, seemingly “like a human”. Artificial intelligence can be an amazing tool – also for writers. But the whole concept behind a Turing test is to “unmask” artificiality. In other words, you only need one type of question to blow the computer’s cover.

And that’s what happened here. Hilariously, with the help of another computer!

ChatGPT vs Gemini Turing test: AI render of two cartoon computers facing each other — Since my topic is a ChatGPT vs Gemini Turing test, I might as well use an AI render to visualize it…

(more…)

“Am I the Asshole?”: The Art of Self-Assessment

July 15, 2024

Experiencing, Society

art, experiencing, ignorance, society, writing

There is an often quoted claim suggesting that if you run into an asshole in the morning, you ran into an asshole, but if you run into assholes all day, you’re the asshole. This isn’t always true – there are never black-and-white answers – for reasons we will examine, but it implicitly focuses on an important issue: How do we determine whether we’re right or wrong? How do we determine, “am I the asshole”?

There’s even a Reddit thread where people share incidents with strangers and expect them to answer, “Am I the asshole”? Of course Reddit, like the internet at large, relies on consensus. If 10,000 people insists you’re wrong, they must be right… Right? At least that’s what the bandwagon fallacy would like us to think. Obviously enough, this takes us back to the “assholes all day” problem.

But again, there are never easy answers.

So in this post, let’s try to unpack all this. Let’s see why we can’t rely on public consensus to figure out whether we’re right or not, and what we can do about it.

Am I the Asshole? blurry image of people — Humans are social animals. We want others’ approval. But what if others are wrong?

(more…)

Why I Want to be Forgotten when I Die

July 1, 2024

Experiencing

art, death, experience, life

For most people – certainly for most artists – to be forgotten when they die is not something they would wish. They would like to be remembered for a long time. Sometimes, when they fantasize about success, they might even dream of an undefined future, long after their demise, with their name still associated with artistic or other achievements.

Not me. I want to be forgotten when I die. I want my art, in particular, everything that I’ve made – from novels to songs to drawing – to disappear as if it had never existed.

This might sound counterintuitive, odd, and to some readers even hypocritical. I don’t blame you. As I said, to be forgotten when you die is not something you hear often from the mouth of people who create. Yet my motivations, as always, are entirely selfish. The deeper reasons might even be useful to you.

I want to be forgotten when I die. Image of graves — This is the graveyard of a small village on Lemnos, Greece, where my grandparents are buried – and, parenthetically, where some of the action in *The Storytelling Cat* takes place. I remember them, but after I and a couple other people die, there will be nobody left to remember them. It will be as if they never existed. I want the same, I want to be forgotten when I die, **especially** my art

(more…)