The fire of creation

I am scared of AI, not because I think it might be able to do things better than me, I am scared because of what it is able to extract from me, I am terrified by how easy it makes it to pretend to be somebody you are not and how viable it feels to abandon what I care for, in exchange of some algorithm dopamine. 

I think that’s why I’ve moved onto painting miniatures, more analogue, less concerned with subscription software, and its ever changing terms and conditions.

But I keep losing sleep over what can be fabricated from my internet footprint, the things I love and hate, the moments I’ve cherished, the one off comments I’ve written to random instagram idiots, or the overly emotional things I write from time to time in untitled forgotten google documents. All these tiny moments and pieces of me stored in a hard drive are now being fed into an AI. 

An AI that has by now built an avatar of myself deep down in a data center ready to be sold to any company that is willing to pay for it. It will be put to work without my consent, it will be used to do my work for free in favor of a money hungry bastard. 

On the more pathetic side, it might also be used to sell some male balding prevention supplements, or it might be the ideal millennial avatar to use as the face of some extra caffeinated new drink. 

These companies, or even you (if you pay for it) might also be able to tweak this AI homunculus, choose the emotions they want it to display in their ad or piece of content, have it replicate my persona, my way of being and my overall voice timbre and intonation and the way I start to speak faster and show my accent when I get stressed. 

They’ve already built and alternate Juan, a more moderate Juan, the one that likes AI and doesn’t care about the font pairing they’re using for their new lame piece of content about design hustle and how to get more money by using this simple subscription tool!

What will happen if I keep uploading my visual expressions, my random thoughts, my intimate feelings into this corporation infested internet? I hate the uncertainty of that, are we doomed to ask permission to the algorithm in order to connect with real people and not some AI bot? 

What else is there to do besides trying to stand out in a sea of fabricated dopamine extracting artifacts?

Probably I could try to make my accent more noticeable, maybe I should try wacky camera angles, or different editing styles, or just record in the worst camera possible, but how will I make my need for human connection swim across an ocean of AI slop? 

I dislike algorithm tricks, I don’t need to pretend to engage with a machine that decides if my efforts are worth sharing or not. It is, after all, almost impossible to hit somebody's timeline that might vibe in the same way I do about design, art, miniature painting, scifi books and whatever topic I choose to shoot into the ether.
Is it worth my effort to remain human when I can’t seem to reach any one on the internet?

I think it is worth reclaiming being human on the internet, to try harder, for my own sake, not for the algorithm or the AI just for the fact that I am capable of fulfilling my vision, no matter the scope or the topic or the technique. 

Creating for the sake of creation, for the sake of treasuring my vision and skills and for the fact I can channel through my own perspective what AI is still incapable of emulating, creating things, moments, glimpses of clarity, hits of emotion through sweat and tears.

Create and fail, create and grow, create dangerously, risk the wrath of the machine, risk the deep rejection of the algorithm, risk to lose the race against a GPU farm.

I’ve been blessed by the fire of creation, AI can barely reflect my blaze on the surface of its shiny metallic guts.  I’ll let it emulate, and steal from me, but I’ll watch it burst into pieces tracing the shadow of my emotions on the blank surface of its output window. 

To concede my humanity in exchange for comfort and quietness is the sole purpose of its emulations.