A number of years ago, a Western Oligarch forecast that his new invention would change the face of the planet. A "something" he named Ginger. A mobility device that "everyone" would choose and walking would become obsolete. Didn't happen. As the nerdel's tinker with AI, I laugh eat the concept that AI could craft a Jimmy Hendrix. Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Chaucer, Shakespeare, perchance? I think not. Not now, not ever. AI will always be the flawed creations of man, we are creations of the Lord.
It isn't as if I think AI is anything but a technology in its infancy. Like the forecast of Ginger, the creator's of AI are equally proud and flawed i their thinking. Today AI is so primitive, that it shouts its fraudulent identity. Keep it up, techies, but when you need a hug, a shoulder to cry on, compassion, or music with passion, it comes from the source, not from the gray tissue held within our swollen heads.
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