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Question for Jeanketeers: Who do you write to if you want to get things to stop changing? Congress? Or influencers, like a lady I spotted the other day in the Walgreens parking lot filming herself in her car yelling? Just asking for a friend (name of Dale Jeanstea!) who would like change to chill out until we get our bearings.
No one seems to like change, so why does it continue to happen? Let’s face it: Things staying the exact same, boring as it can often be, is tons preferable. Yet change keeps a-comin’. And not even my favorite go-to tactic when times get rough—simply ignoring it—will help me if I’m affected!
Okay, enough setup. Here’s the big reveal, hold on to your hats: I and Hubby Rick (still alive) had to give our beloved waterbed the old heave-ho. I know, I know, but there was no choice. It was older and more patched than Holly Hobbie’s apron (I’m moving on to the next sentence, so google if you’re confused!). And frankly, it was getting downright gross. Long story short, guess who “forgot” to add the chemical treatment the last few times he changed the bed water, and all this (trigger warning!!) black ick spewed out? (Hint: His mustache is much thicker than mine!) But I still bawled like a baby seeing that waterbed cover and frame chucked into the dumpster. Darn it, I miss floating on the old S.S. Snoozecanoe. While aboard, I thought up some of my best column ideas and also cruised to my best self-pity parties. Unforch, this replacement secondhand mattress Rick found on Craigslist ain’t inspiring anything but backaches!
Now I’m dreading what other change could be in store. Here I am, feeling fragile enough about the waterbed as it is, when this AI thing comes up. Now, when I first heard about AI, I wasn’t too worried. Normally, I would think it would be cute to have a coworker robot to dish the latest gossip with. Then I learned that people were freaking out about the possibility that it could take over their livelihoods. Which soon made me realize something that really chilled my blood: What if this very column was replaced by AI without warning? Mega-gasp!
No, it hasn’t happened…yet. I’ve been fired from jobs before—oh boy, have I ever—and perhaps my bosses think an artificially intelligent Jean would be a lot easier to deal with than your flesh-and-blood, warts-and-all pal. It’s probably best that I try to get ahead of this as much as possible. I read up a little on this AI jazz, and you can help by being aware of some basic warning signs.
In case I am secretly replaced by AI, here’s how you can tell that it’s not me:
The column is written in a cold, emotionless tone. As you know, Jeanketeers, my life is an open book and, quite adorably, an open book with one of those furry pink covers! I don’t keep secrets, and this sassy lass refuses to phone it in. Sure, maybe I’d be more successful if I was all business. But would my column be the heartfelt labor of love that you true fans all so closely relate to? Boy, I hope all the smarty-pants who told me for years that my writing was too wordy, hysterical, and hard to follow are eating their own words now. Be careful what you wish for!
The column contains obvious factual inaccuracies. Artificial Jean will tell you that she has no imaginary children, because she is childless. Bio-Jean will say heck no: Rhett, Schuyler and Antoinette have been my made-up children for ages! Artificial Jean will confess that she is somewhere north of 40. No way, Jose—Bio-Jean is eternally 29! That’s a proven fact!
My fingers look really weird. True, you never actually see my fingers in my columns, which are all in writing. But AI might not understand that and might include an image of my hands anyway. Don’t ask me how that would happen—it’s a science-fiction world now! Well, rest assured the ol’ Teasdale digits aren’t curly tentacles and don’t count seven or eight per hand. I swear I only have 10 fingers (or eight fingers and two thumbs, Gotcha Gang. See, I’m real!).
If sentences with parentheses are absent, it’s fake, fake, fake. (Why, they’re practically a watermark. See, proof this column was written by Bio-Jean!) (Adding another parenthetical sentence so you know this is still me writing.)
Very few exclamation points!!! Also on the subject of punctuation, did you know that my columns in their original form contain tons of exclamation points? Tragically, the vast majority get edited out before publication, which has long been a thorn in my side. I heard that AI writing contains—yuck!—perfect grammar and punctuation, a dead giveaway that it’s not written by a real person. If I can talk my editors into preserving exclamation points, especially the “excess” ones, it’s another assurance that my columns are mine!!!! See what I mean? Isn’t that so much warmer and more personal? (By the way, there should be 17 exclamation points in that earlier sentence. They still cut a bunch despite my pleas, didn’t they?)
Zero mentions of chocolate. I bet you Jeanketeers suspected something was missing in this column, but you couldn’t put your finger on it, could you? We almost made it to the end of this without one, too. I did it on purpose (clever, huh?) to present to you the starkest scenario of all: What if Jean columns lacked any references to the food of the gods? Is there any scarier example of how soulless an AI world could be—Jean Teasdale columns without chocolate? Sorry to scare the socks off you, but we must entertain any and all nightmare scenarios. Don’t kill the messenger!
As you can imagine, Jeanketeers, your eagle-eyed vigilance could help save my job (that is, my columnist job, not my flea market job) and, maybe even more importantly, halt this menacing trend called change. Really, I just don’t think people are that great at it, either at making it or adapting to it. As for all that cyber-digital-
computer-robot-AI futuristic stuff, can’t we just stick with Roombas? Why does someone like me—who just wants to brighten people’s day and make them pay attention to me—face an uncertain future while crabby hubbies go totally unscathed? He ruined our waterbed, not me! Sheesh!
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