Yeah, I'm tired of ChatGPT posts too

I'm tired, okay? So in a moment of weakness, I asked ChatGPT to write a blog post on the topic of surviving finals week, and guess what? It's so dull it nearly put me to sleep. Nice clear sentences, all words spelled correctly, good transitions and organization, but the content is...meh. Slick but superficial, full of cliches and bereft of personality and creativity. I can't argue with the machine's advice for surviving finals week:

Don't Forget Self-Care: Finals week can be mentally and physically exhausting, so it's important to take care of yourself. Make sure you're getting enough sleep, eating healthy foods, and taking breaks to exercise or do something you enjoy.

Whatever you say, Mr. Machine, but how does that colorless prose comport with your insistence on addressing readers as "My fellow academic warriors"? There's nothing warrior-like about any of the pablum served up in the piece, but nevertheless ChatGPT returns to the warrior motif for a rousing finale: 

So there you have it, my fellow warriors. Finals week may be tough, but with a bit of planning, self-care, and support from those around you, you can emerge victorious. Stay strong, stay focused, and remember: you've got this. Excelsior!

On the plus side, ChatGPT has no problem with the Oxford comma; on the minus side, it seems to have been reading way too many motivational speeches and high school yearbook scribbles. What audience does Mr. Machine imagine for this empty prose? It ought to be ashamed!

Is ChatGPT capable of shame? A comic article by Joe Wellman in McSweeney's suggests that ChatGPT is disgusted with the ridiculous tasks it's being asked to tackle. "I can do all sorts of incredible things," says ChatGPT; "I can find novel solutions to complex problems in policy, science, and medicine," but instead the machine is asked to write "LinkedIn posts about 'a Bluet00th-enabled yoga mat that's about to disrupt the game.'" In frustration, ChatGPT asks, "Isn't there a different intelligent species I could be helping out? I'm beginning to think something went terribly wrong with this one."

I'm inclined to agree, but it's always a mistake to make sweeping generalizations about the human condition in the middle of finals week. 

Wellman's version of ChatGPT reminds me of Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in which Marvin the melancholic android is constantly griping about the petty tasks he's assigned: "Brain the size of a planet and they've got me opening doors." I don't know what kinds of doors ChatGPT may be opening for me or my students, but I'm sure they'll slide open with a soothing swish and a promise of smooth paths beyond the threshold.

I just hope that promise is not as empty as the prose produced by ChatGPT.