My husband and I (Gen X) refer to searching for something online as "Googling it." Our Gen Z and Gen Alpha kids say "search it up." When did the switch happen? What do Millennials say?

– Sara Kruger on Twitter

Lady, Gen Z and Gen Alpha have bigger problems than which search engine to use.

Elsewhere in this issue you will be treated to a discussion of my new 'calling card' based on a design by Copilot, the AI that I didn't ask for, but Microsoft apparently decided I deserved. The image made me laugh – and it was the only one I could get the AI to draw for me that wasn't sporting a beard. Apparently, beards are all the rage these days, and no well-dressed bot-dolly should be without one. We should be glad it's not 1860, I guess – the era of what Elektra calls 'dead squirrels on chins.'

For this column, I wanted to see if I could get Copilot to make me an image of my new avatar with a computer instead of a typewriter. It was mindlessly cheerful about the project – emphasis on 'mindless'. Apparently it is incapable of picking up where it left off. It has to generate new pictures.

All of which have beards.

Here's how it went:

DG: Can you put a computer in this picture?

Copilot: I'll try to create that. [Produces four images of a white-haired, bearded man in an old-fashioned suit pecking at a typewriter. One of them looks suspiciously like Sigmund Freud.]

DG: All of those are typewriters, and the author has a beard. I want the author with NO beard, and I want a computer, NOT a typewriter. Can you do this?

Copilot: I apologize for the confusion. I'll make sure to create an image of the author Dmitri Gheorgheni with a computer and without a beard. Please give me a moment. [Produces two images, very clean-looking, of a thirty-something man. In one of them, he's actually working on a laptop. In both of them, he has – you guessed it – a well-trimmed beard and moustache ensemble.]

DG: He still has a beard. [Can the machine hear me sigh?]

Copilot: I apologize for the oversight. I'll make sure the image is created without a beard this time. [Slight pause. Is it thinking? It comes back with two more images, both young and professional-looking, and with laptops. One is white, and one is Black.]

DG: [stating the obvious] Both of these have beards.

Copilot: I'm sorry for the repeated mistake. I'll ensure the image is created correctly this time, with the author Dmitri Gheorgheni having no beard and including a computer. Please hold on.

Was it my imagination, or did I detect a note of desperation there? Copilot redoubled its efforts. In a few seconds (no doubt an eternity in AI years) it came back with four images.

Yes, they all had beards. But what beards! Luxurious, flowing, ZZ Top-like facial excrescences, veritable monuments to the glory of the hirsute.

This was the best one. I'm saving it.

I commented, 'The beards are getting really big now.'

It replied earnestly, 'I understand the issue and I apologize for the inconvenience. I'll ensure that the image is created with the author Dmitri Gheorgheni having no beard and with a computer. Please bear with me.'

'I understand the issue' was, you will pardon the expression, a bare-faced lie. For the next trio of smiling images looked like well-groomed fugitives from the 70s.

'That is still a beard,' I retorted. 'With a porn 'stache, no less.'

This obviously offended Copilot, though it tried not to show it. (At this point, I'm suspecting the AI was designed by people from Minnesota, the state where passive-aggressive remarks are an art form.) It was time to play its trump card.

'I apologize for the confusion earlier,' it announced mendaciously. 'I've made the necessary adjustments, and the image should now meet your specifications with a clean-shaven author and a computer. Please check the updated image.'

And the next frame showed:

The AI then had the nerve to suggest that I reply, 'I appreciate the effort.' Nice try, Charlie.

Half a century and more ago, Philip K Dick foresaw these kinds of discussions between human and machine intelligence. Such as this exchange from Ubik (1969):

'This isn't gossip,' Joe Chip said to the 'pape machine.
'This is speculation about fiscal transactions. Today I want
to read about which TV star is sleeping with whose drug-addicted wife.'

. . . The 'pape machine said, 'Set the dial for low gossip.'

A short time later in the same novel, the main character has an argument with the apartment building's AI concierge about the cleaning-robot bill. Then he discovers that his front door refuses to open without a cash payment. Some people think Philip K Dick was merely a science fiction author with substance issues. I say Philip K Dick was a prophet who was self-medicating, like all prophets.

So, people: Google is the least of your worries. Beware the AI. You, too, can spend countless hours arguing with an artificial construct.

Don't believe me? Search it up, kids.

Dmitri Gheorgheni

13.05.24 Front Page

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