As I write this, I’m out on my screened-in back porch watching the rain and listening to thunder that has been continuous for the last ten minutes as the red part of the radar picture moves over Joplin.
Thunder has always fascinated me, and I’ve never quite understood it. Google it, you might say, for a simple explanation. I did, and I’ve known since fourth grade that the enormous heat of lightning (from friction or something/something negative/positive whatever) splits the sky, and then the intense hot air/cold air collide and make the roar. But air banging together is somehow beyond my grasp. It doesn’t make sense to me because I think of noise being made by striking something solid, not air. You may have figured out that I do not have a scientific brain. I don’t know how a radio works or a TV, and forget about the internet.
Of course, the first thing on this laptop search about thunder was an Artificial Intelligence entry. And that’s where my mind flip-flops into the rabbit hole of AI.
Currently, the Author’s Guild, of which I am a member, is awaiting a judge’s approval for the class-action settlement between AI research company Anthropic and the authors the guild represents. Called Claude, this AI monster was trained, among other things, on pirated books. My books of record that were used are one biography and four novels classified as historical fiction.
The key word here is fiction. Although I research the historical time period I’m writing about to assure the backdrop is accurate, I make up the story. It’s from my imagination. It’s not real. But AI is trained on that. If my works are an example, you should be very careful relying on AI for factual information.
Computer programmers have long been taught, “Garbage in, garbage out.” AI spews back what it has been fed.
I don’t want to call my own books garbage, but if you want to learn about the Cherokee removal from Tennessee, I suggest you do some digging in primary-sourced history books and archives instead of relying on my historical novel, Nellie the Brave. She has some thrilling adventures and devastating heartbreaks on that wagon train to Oklahoma, but those gripping incidents never happened. Nellie is a made-up character.
If you merely want to know how to use a semicolon, I suspect AI knows what’s what. That’s unless a writer was careless with punctuation; then you might be sprinkling those in places they don’t belong.
Meanwhile, the thunderstorm has moved on, so I’ll climb down from my soapbox and retreat back in the house to mundane tasks like moving laundry from the washer to the dryer. If only Claude could do that for me.
