ChatGPT and the other leading AI Chatbot applications are radically changing how we communicate and gain information. For example, I used ChatGPT to suggest this caption which you are reading right now. Isn’t that amazing? (Okay, I lied. But I had you wondering, didn’t I?)
Technology futurists have been predicting for decades that AI (Artificial Intelligence) would eventually overhaul how we do our jobs, how we travel, and even how we engage in sex. But I’d rather not delve into my brother-in-law’s fascination with his AI robot girlfriend, the Monica XL-400. I still don’t understand their relationship, to be honest.
In recent months tremendous advances in AI have taken place, particularly with the introduction of something called AI chatbots. The one getting the most press coverage is ChatGPT from Open AI. So what, exactly, is ChatGPT? The GPT is short for generative pre-trained transformer. I am sure you found that explanation as helpful as I did. But as best as I can explain it, it is simply an AI-powered chatbot. We’ve all seen chatbots before. You know, those annoying online chat programs where you type in a request like, “Can I talk to someone in customer service?” and the chatbot replies, “Hello, I’m Brad. How can I help you?” And then you reply, “I just need to talk to a LIVE person,” and it replies, “Hello, I’m Brad. How can I help you?”
The technology of these AI chatbots is actually quite impressive. Just log onto one of these websites, type in any conceivable topic you’d like information about, and voilà ! Within seconds, this AI program will compose a written response in surprising detail, crafted in such a way that it is almost impossible to tell that it was not written by a person.
ChatGPT, Chatfuel, Drift, MobileMonkey, and the slightly creepily named chatbot program, It’s Alive, are all exploding in popularity because they’re free and anyone can use them. If you know how to type and spell, you’re good to go – which is why my cat Zippy will most likely never use any of these programs, because the last time I checked, he still lacked opposable thumbs or any comprehension of what his name was.
Now, for the first time, there are utilities that will answer virtually any question in enormous detail. Sure, Amazon’s Alexa and Apple’s Siri do sort of the same thing, but the latest evolution of AI apps has taken everything to an entirely new stratosphere, as these chatbots can now use artificial intelligence tools to produce detailed text, images, sounds, and even videos that look and feel like they were created by humans.
Popular applications of this breakthrough technology include using it to write press releases and legal briefs, and helping to ensure that thousands of hardworking tech support and customer service employees all over the world will lose their jobs forever.
The line between actual humans and AI is getting more and more blurry. See this robot? She’s incredibly smart. You find her kind of sexy, don’t you? Then you’ve been spending way too much time online. Please put away your phone and play pickleball. You’re starting to worry me.
But probably the source of greatest controversy is the use of these programs to write high school and college term papers. You’re probably asking yourself, can a chatbot really craft a term paper that could fool a teacher? You be the judge. We asked a high school senior and ChatGPT the same question: “Who was George Washington?” Below are their responses. See if you can guess which response was written by Jordan Carruthers, a senior at Garfield High School, and which was provided by ChatGPT.
ChatGPT or Jordan Carruthers?
George Washington (1732-1799) was an American political leader, military general, and Founding Father of the United States. He played a crucial role in the American Revolution, leading the Continental Army to victory over the British and securing American independence. After the war, Washington was a key figure in the drafting of the U.S. Constitution and became the first President of the United States in 1789. He is often referred to as the “Father of His Country” for his leadership in both the military and political spheres, and his commitment to establishing a strong, stable government for the newly-formed United States. Washington’s legacy as a leader and statesman has been widely celebrated throughout American history.
ChatGPT or Jordan Carruthers?
George Washington chopped down a maple tree and had wooden teeth. He was very tall and wore a white wig. He stood in the front of a rowboat crossing a river in wintertime. That’s very dangerous, as he could have fallen overboard and drowned. He’s the guy on the one dollar bill. Did I mention he was tall? We get the day off every year on his birthday, so he must have been a fairly important dude.
Who wrote which version? It’s hard to tell, I know. Believe it or not, the first response was supplied by ChatGPT. But in fairness, Jordan Carruthers is a lazy idiot who’s probably not going to graduate on time. Of course, experts are concerned students may cheat and use ChatGPT to complete their term papers for them. This is a serious issue, and I, for one, am furious… that this technology was not available for me to use when I was in college back in the 1970s. So unfair.
Besides the obvious ethical concerns of the potential for widespread automated plagiarism, there are other significant challenges yet to be worked out. This technology has been shown, on occasion, to provide wildly inaccurate answers to questions – which could be problematic if you’re, say, a heart surgeon and you just asked the AI chatbot what to do next in a delicate coronary angioplasty and stent implantation, and the chatbot directs you to surgically attach the patient’s left leg to his right shoulder blade. Oops.
Another disturbing challenge in the rapid deployment of AI chatbots is that they can quickly become a**holes. Let me explain. AI chatbots are essentially highly sophisticated robot parrots. They quickly learn to assimilate knowledge – and opinions – based on the input they receive from the humans interacting with them. Before long, they start repeating the sentiments of their users.
The latest AI chatbot programs can even mimic the writing style of the greatest writers in history, like Shakespeare. However, ChatGPT, trying to emulate the Bard’s famous quote from Hamlet, wrote, “Am I or aren’t I: this is an interrogatory.” So, nice try, but not quite.
So, imagine the tech team’s surprise when Microsoft launched its cutting-edge AI chatbot program called Tay. Twitter users conversing with Tay started tweeting the bot with a barrage of vitriol, including misogynistic and racist comments laced with offensive expletives. Within hours, Tay’s R-rated commentary started to make Donald Trump look like Mother Teresa. Guess it’s back to the drawing board, Microsoft.
I can appreciate that there are still a few bugs to work out before ChatGPT and the other AI chatbots become widespread in their adoption. But I for one am excited about the future potential. In fact, I am so impressed with these chatbots that I decided to use ChatGPT to compose this week’s entire column. From now on, instead of wasting seven exhausting hours working on my next column, I’ll just have an AI chatbot compose it. You can find me at the gym on the elliptical.
Next week’s topic: “The history of baseball.” I can’t wait to see what ChatGPT comes up with. I’m sure it will be compelling reading. I just hope it won’t be way better written than my usual columns.
That’s the view from the bleachers. I might be off base. If so, blame it on ChatGPT.
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On this very special Valentine’s Day, I wanted to share a special poem I wrote for my wife, expressing just how much I love her. I guess I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic. Hope it warms your heart. – Tim
Darling,
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so is high fructose corn syrup
Which from a manufacturing perspective
Is easier to handle and cheaper to make
Using an acid-enzyme process
In which corn is milled to extract corn starch
Which is then acidified
To begin breaking up the existing carbohydrates
With high-temperature enzymes added
To further metabolize the starch
And convert the resulting sugars to fructose
To which various enzymes are then added
After which it is filtered usingactivated carbon
Then demineralized usingion-exchange resins
And run over immobilizedxylose isomerase
Which turns the sugars to ~50–52% glucose
With some unconverted oligosaccharides
And 42% fructose
The sweetness of which
Is comparable to sucrose
But not as sweet as you
Love,
Your SWEETHEART
[NOTE: This week’s column was written by my life-long friendand fellow humorist, Steve Fisher. Steve is the person who inspired me to create View from the Bleachers back in 2009, and he is the funniest person I have ever known. Steve gave me permission to share his love poem with my VFTB readers. Thanks, Steve! – TEJ ]
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This is a Mercury dime. This particular 1917 “full band” uncirculated edition is worth over $8,000. It got me to wondering: How many thousands would my extensive dime collection be worth?” The shocking answer stunned me.
Few people know that when I was young, I was a serious coin collector. From age six until 25, I collected Mercury dimes.
Fun fact: The Mercury dime was minted between 1916 and 1945. It was replaced in 1946 by the Roosevelt dime after the death of FDR in April 1945, as a way to honor his legacy.
The current value of Mercury dimes ranges widely. Some of them are worth barely more than their face value. But a 1935-S Mercury dime (The “S” means it was created at the San Francisco mint) has been appraised at $90,000. And one exceptionally well-preserved edition of the 1938-S Mercury dime has been assigned a value of $364,000 – or roughly $363,998 more than the current value of my Topps 1963 Major League baseball card of Willie Tasby of the Washington Senators. (He had a bad year that year.)
Several factors influence the market value of a coin: How many were produced, whether they ever entered into circulation, the coin’s overall condition, and whether or not they were ever part of Tim Jones’ private collection, in which case they would be considered primarily for their meltdown value.
When I first started collecting, I often asked my mother to take me to the bank where I asked the tellers whether they had any Mercury dimes they could exchange for my Roosevelt dimes. Initially, they were happy to trade with me. It was when I started asking the tellers if they’d trade me their Mercury dimes for my 1963 Willie Tasby baseball card that I started to run into some serious resistance.
This is a page from my Mercury dime collector’s book. Look at how many of the dates I had filled in! As I drove to the the coin shop to get my collection appraised, I reflected on an impending life-changing decision: Might this be the day I finally can retire? What car would I buy?
For reasons unknown, by the early 1960s Mercury dimes suddenly became almost impossible to locate – much like my middle school classmates, who, during recess, apparently decided hanging out with a coin-collecting nerd like me might ruin their chances to get girls to go out with them.
As a budding numismatist (which is nerd speak for coin collector), I bought a coin book specifically designed to display Mercury dimes, with a space for every year and every mint where the coins were produced – Philadelphia, Denver or San Francisco. By the time I reached age 18, I had populated my collector’s book with 42 dimes – a figure that exceeded the total number of dates I had gone out on in my life by 40. Some of them were rather scuffed up and had worn-out faces, but others were very well preserved. Sorry if that last sentence was not clear. I was referring to my coins, not my two dates.
I had one coin that was either a 1917-S (valued, depending on its condition, at between $1,000 and $5,000) or a 1917-D (today worth only 25 cents). It was hard to tell whether it was an “S” or a “D.” So, I told everybody it was an S, thinking that might make me seem cool to girls. Fun fact: It did not.
My father always told me my dime collection would be worth something someday if I just held onto it long enough. As I got older, I thought about perhaps handing it down to one of my kids someday as a precious heirloom. I hid away my Mercury dime collection in the back of my closet, right next to my 1963 Willie Tasby baseball card – safe from any potential thieving intruders – for decades.
Fifty years after I saved my first Mercury dime, at the age of 56, I finally decided, for the first time in my life, to bring my rare coin collection to a reputable coin shop to have it professionally appraised.
In my mind I envisioned that our encounter would be like a scene from an episode of Antiques Roadshow. I could almost hear the life-altering words of the coin appraiser: “Tim, I would say your impressive assemblage represents one of the finest private collections of Mercury dimes I have ever seen. I see you even have the rare 1917-S coin, although at first glance I thought it might have been a 1917-D. I would say, based on the immaculate condition of your coins, conservatively, it has a current value of between $150,000 to $200,000.”
Did I mention I also have an extensive collection of over 100 PEZ dispensers? I’ve been collecting them for years. I’m sure someday they’ll be worth almost as much as my Mercury dime collection.
Oh My God! Can you believe it!!! Then I opened my eyes and realized I was still in my car in the parking lot. I entered the store. Over the past 50 years, my modest initial collection had swelled to 75 Mercury dimes, meaning the face value alone was $7.50. It did not take the appraiser long to return with his assessment: “I would say the current value of your collection is around $10.00. I’d be willing to give you $13.00.”
“What about my rare 1917-S coin? Isn’t that worth something?”
“You mean your 1917-D? Yeah. It’s worth about 25 cents, give or take.”
Seriously? I’d been holding onto my collection for over 50 years, and its value had increased by roughly the price of a large Wendy’s Frosty? I was completely deflated. I thought long and hard about what to do next. Should I continue to hold onto my collection and give it to my daughter someday – perhaps when its value had soared to $15.00? I finally decided to accept the coin store owner’s offer of $13.00 and I said goodbye to the “precious” coin collection I had zealously guarded for the past half century.
I no longer have a single Mercury dime. But I still have my 1963 Willie Tasby baseball card. I’m sure eventually it will be worth a lot of money. Someday. It’s just a matter of time.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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This is my neighbor Rick. Rick is my friend. Why, might you ask? Is it because we share common interests? Heck if I know. I have no idea what his interests are. What I DO know is that Rick is very handy. Recently, he installed a new NEST thermostat for me that my daughter gave me for Christmas. What a great neighbor. I love Rick.
I don’t like to brag. But I’m a bit of a home improvement guru. Be it erecting a backyard fence or wallpapering the bedroom, I can do just about any project with minimal mistakes. And I only need one tool to do it all: my cell phone – which I’m very handy working with to call a contractor to complete these projects.
What I’m trying to say is – and this is something that will surprise nobody who has known me for at least five minutes – I have absolutely no Do-It-Yourselfer skills. NADA. Zilch! I blame this on my father, because, well, he passed away 43 years ago, so he’s not here to defend himself. My dad was a workaholic, usually coming home from the office well after nightfall and often working weekends. He never taught me how to unclog a plugged drain; or light the pilot light on the furnace; or change a flat tire. So, I never learned any of that stuff when I was young.
By the time I finished grad school and dove headlong into my career, I worked crazy hours like my dad. So, I had no time to do household maintenance projects – nor any burning desire to learn how. Fast forward forty years, and I’m now in my sixties and retired. I live in a semi-rural island community populated mostly with other retirees. Everybody here is frugal. All of these people know how to handle all sorts of home repairs and improvements. They’re all self-reliant. – a word nobody has ever once accused me of being when it comes to fixing anything around the house.
Everybody here is a DIY-er, a Do-It-Yourselfer. A week does not go by that I don’t hear one of my neighbors explain how they just finished installing a ceiling fan or renovating their kitchen. By themselves, of course. And it’s not just the men. All the women here know how to fix stuff. And half the men here have the skills to become a finalist on Top Chef. How do I compete with that? I may not be as talented in the kitchen as any of my neighbors, but I can microwave a mean Stouffers Spaghetti in Meat Sauce. (The key is to poke at least six holes in the plastic covering, but no more than eight.)
This is my neighbor Jim. I can’t stand Jim. What a jerk. Why do I say this? Because recently, Jim and his wife invited us over for a sumptuous home-cooked meal. Jim did all the cooking himself. And now my wife is asking me, “When will you start making me meals like Jim does for his wife?” Thanks a lot, Jim!
I don’t know how to cook, build, or fix anything. Heck, I consider it an achievement when I can reset the time on my Fitbit watch. And don’t ask me how to set up the new router for my computer. That’s why you have teenage children, isn’t it?
The closest I came to fixing something mechanical was when at the age of 14, I built a minibike and installed the lawnmower engine – all by myself. I was so proud of myself – until I pressed the accelerator. The bike immediately responded by going BACKWARDS. I had somehow installed the engine backwards. I was never able to make it fit onto the bike frame in the proper direction. Thus began a long, undistinguished career of calling others to fix things I was too incompetent to do by myself.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I sit on my couch all day watching football and eating ice cream – although, if you ask me, that sounds like a perfectly good way to spend an autumn Saturday afternoon. I know how to power wash my driveway and use my leaf blower to blow away the leaves (into my neighbor’s yard). A couple of years ago, I even planted over 200 tulips and daffodils – while my wife watched and pointed out how I was doing it all wrong.
One time I even erected a colorful 12-foot signpost in my front yard all by myself (and by “all by myself” I mean with the nominal assistance of a carpenter buddy who brought his power tools, a wheelbarrow, and cement, and who knew how to use a circular saw and explained the importance of measuring things).
Recently, a powerful windstorm knocked out all power in our neighborhood. Fortunately, we have a generator and an elaborate auxiliary power grid – which I paid to have an electrician install. I would have tried to install it myself, but I felt that paying a professional $750 was probably cheaper in the long run than the cost of having to rebuild our house after I would have no doubt accidentally burned it to the ground due to a series of egregious electrical wiring mistakes.
Anyway, the contractor walked me through a 16-step process of flipping circuit switches, plugging in the generator, opening up the propane tank, turning on the battery, adjusting the choke, etc. I wrote it all down in great detail, because I knew the chances of me remembering all these steps were about the same as the odds I’d be chosen to be the next Pope
Meet my neighbor Gail. Gail is a stay-at-home mom and a self-taught car mechanic. She figures she’s saved over $15,000 over the years in car maintenance bills by doing all of the work on her vehicles herself. Normally, I’d be inclined to despise her, of course. But in this photo Gail offered to change the oil and filter on my Hyundai. And she even brought over sugar cookies. So, I guess I’ll forgive her for being such a DIY-er.
So, the storm hit, our power went out, and I followed all 16 steps precisely as I had written them down. And to no one’s amazement, the generator would not start. I asked my neighbor Ron to help, because he’s much handier than I. He quickly figured out the problem, which was that I should not be allowed anywhere near complicated mechanical equipment. I apparently had two steps in the wrong sequence.
Ron figured it out and got the generator – and our power – going within minutes. I thanked him profusely – and made a note that the next time our power goes out to call Ron, so I won’t have to tackle this confusing task myself. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m an excellent delegator.
Sure, at times I feel a little inadequate that my home improvement skills are roughly on par with those of my cat Zippy. And I sometimes get embarrassed about my lack of knowledge about how to do common household things like putting down tile flooring or installing a new bathroom sink or replacing the AA batteries on my TV remote. But that’s a small price to pay to have all that extra free time on my hands to watch the game… on the couch… with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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If you’d like to add a little adventure to your life, why not take a trek into the Amazon rainforest? If you like 98 degree temps with 100% humidity and if you enjoy being accosted by 10,000 hungry mosquitoes, then the Amazon may be for you. One question: Do you like snakes?
When I say the word “Amazon,” what is the first thing that comes to mind? Okay, I figured you’d probably say Amazon.com, the giant online retailer. But believe it or not, there is another Amazon that has nothing to do with next-day delivery of sporting goods, pet food, or wireless headphones.
I’m talking about the Amazon rainforest. This exotic region spans nine South American countries. Did you know that the Amazon River basin contains 20% of the world’s flowing fresh water and one third of all known terrestrial plant, animal, and insect species?
This OTHER Amazon (the one that is not currently owned by Jeff Bezos) is an incredible place. I know this because my wife and I recently returned from a vacation which included a week in the heart of the Amazon rainforest. We stayed in a lodge overlooking the mighty Amazon River in northeastern Peru, with wild monkeys hanging out, just outside our cabin.
Based on my experience, I now consider myself an expert on what you need to know before you hop on a plane (and then another plane, and then one or two more flights – it’s not easy to get to the Amazon).
Heed my advice before you head to this untamed tropical paradise, and there’s at least a 50% chance you just might make it out alive. Frankly, that’s better odds than you’ll get anywhere in Vegas. While the Amazon is an amazing region, it’s also full of potential hostile hazards at every turn. Here are a few helpful pointers to ensure your journey into the Amazon wilderness is safe and that your kids will have to wait a few more years before they can receive their inheritance.
The weather can be brutal. The part of the Amazon where we trekked was very close to the equator. The average temperature everyday ranges from 93 to 98 degrees. And no, it’s not a dry heat. Sorry, buddy. The suffocating humidity here will make New Orleans in August feel like Anchorage in January.
If you failed to check the calendar and you arrive during the rainy season (which in this part of the Amazon runs from November through April) it can rain for days or even weeks without a break. Hope you brought a poncho – and a life raft.
Wear lots of sunscreen. Even on a cloudy day, you can get badly sunburned down here. Be sure to cover every exposed area with SPF 40 sunscreen or higher. Otherwise, you probably should just stay indoors. But good luck getting EPSN Sports Center in your room. Because the rooms don’t have TV here, BECAUSE YOU’RE IN THE HEART OF THE FREAKIN’ AMAZON! Seriously, dude. Were you actually hoping to catch the Giants – Packers game on Fox?
One risk of visiting the Amazon rainforest is getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. They love the humid jungle environment. If your bug spray isn’t keeping them away, I recommend buying a knight’s suit of armor – which comes with free shipping if you use Amazon Prime.
Don’t forget your shots. In addition to showing proof you’ve been vaccinated and boosted for Covid, you’ll also need the following vaccinations: Hepatitis A, Hepatitis B, Typhoid, and Yellow Fever. While you’re at it, be sure to get a prescription for anti-malaria pills. Don’t worry. If you forget these vaccinations, there’s still a chance you’ll make it out alive – albeit probably without the ability to use the left side of your body – or swallow. A small price to pay for the joy of exploring the unknown, if you ask me.
Don’t Go in the Water. Trust me on this. The Amazon has all sorts of critters that would love to have you as a main course for dinner. First of all, there are caimans (a relative of the alligator) everywhere in the Amazon River basin. And if you fall into the water, and the caimans don’t get you, their little buddies known as piranhas will be happy to swarm to your location in a feeding frenzy and make quick work of you. But don’t worry. Piranhas won’t attack you – unless they smell you. Did I mention, piranhas have an excellent sense of smell?
Don’t Drink the Water. The Amazon has more fresh water than anywhere else on the planet. Just make sure you don’t drink ANY of it. It is filled with bacteria extremely harmful to humans. And if the bacteria don’t kill you, the contaminated water will.
Watch out for ants. Specifically, army ants. They’re small, so you may not even notice them until you look down and discover that there are literally hundreds of them climbing your leg – INSIDE of your pants. They are carnivorous and aggressive. But they only attack while they’re awake. Fun fact: Army ants never sleep.
There are no doctors for hundreds of miles. If you are one of the unlucky ones who comes down with one of the countless illnesses you could catch in the wilds of the jungle, good luck finding medical help. If you get bit by a poisonous critter, then, if you’re lucky, you might be able to track down a local shaman from one of the indigenous tribes.
Admit it, you thought I made it up that we went to the Amazon. This is a photo of me taken on the Amazon River. I’m holding a piranha I caught, using just a stick and fishing line baited with raw meat. Had I fallen out of this boat, most likely I would have become an instant feast for dozens of circling piranhas.
The shaman won’t have a clue about any modern medical technology that could heal you, of course. But he just might have an elixir of frog brains and guava juice, mixed with tamarin monkey intestines and palm fronds that will give you a glimmer of hope that you will recover. Trust me. You won’t.
No cell service. No internet. By now you probably figured this out, but in the heart of the Amazon jungle, there is virtually no place with cell service, let alone a reliable internet connection. So, if you discover that you’re about to run out of insect repellant, good luck trying to order some more online. Because while Amazon.com will deliver just about anything imaginable within 24 to 48 hours to destinations all over the world, there is one place where Amazon won’t deliver: The Amazon. Ironic, isn’t it?
On second thought, I’ve changed my mind. I recommend you cancel your plans to trek into the heart of the Amazon wilderness. Don’t go TO the Amazon. Watch it ON Amazon Prime instead. Just rent the National Geographic documentary, Creatures of the Amazon Rainforest, and imagine yourself being there – all from the air-conditioned comfort of your living room recliner – with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Rainforest Crunch ice cream. Safe travels, my friend.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by posting a comment, giving it a Likeor sharing this post on Facebook.
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by posting a comment, giving it a Like or sharing this post on Facebook.
