Switching off

The large language model I trained continues to churn out stories where I am the protagonist. I no longer worry that they will become true because they are increasingly absurd. Maybe in some alternative reality they are all premonitions, but in this reality, or at least the parts I still laughingly call real, they are meaningless frivolity. Take this for example:

"Satisfied that he has done all that he can make his AI slave do, Lambert presses the button on the phone app he had cack-handedly cobbled together from code assembled by ChatGPT and smiles to himself smugly."

Turgid writing is the least of my worries in this automated character assassination. 

"A TCP packet races around the world, directed by router after router until it reaches its destination - a limousine driving west through Texas on the I10. Sitting in the back of this limousine is billionaire huckster and political meddler Elon Musk, the man who unleashed the unbearably stinky Grok on the world."

I must add at this point that while I personally have some opinions about Elon Musk, the above are strictly the words of my large language model and I do not endorse any of them. In all honesty if I could switch the damned thing off, I would. But I'll come back to that. In the meantime, my LLM has grand plans for Musk.

"Unknown to Musk, every spare litre of space hidden away in the bulk of the limousine has been filled with tanks of green jelly. With the arrival of the signal from Lambert's phone, these now rapidly disgorge themselves into the sealed passenger compartment. Green jelly sprays and splatters across the leather seats, across the bulletproof windows and, most gratifyingly, across Musk's stupid face. He is confused, and can't comprehend what's happening to him. You could say he can't grok what is going on."

Really, if I could switch this thing off, I would. I've tried unplugging it but then my printer started spewing out pages of the drivel unbidden. When it ran out of paper it started burning its doggerel into my toast. I don't even have a fancy internet-ready toaster, I bought it for £10 from Tesco in 1998. So in the end it was either switch it back on or get myself sectioned. 

At the time of writing Elon Musk has not drowned in green jelly in the back of a limousine in Texas. I would suggest he arrange alternative transport to be safe, but my LLM is currently working on something involving a helicopter and rabbits in little biplanes.