I asked ChatGPT to fuck everything up, for clout

 Hi everyone. I know that everybody is kind of freaking out at the moment about the recent advances made by AI, especially the possibility of bots taking over from humans after robbing us of our work, while violating our planet's ecosystem. So I thought I would write up a thought experiment I ran a couple of days ago in which I asked ChatGPT some questions in order to get some retweets. When I started out on the test I was, like you, ambivalent about the effects of AI - of course, I use ChatGPT to write my weekly shopping list and birthday greetings to my parents, and to do my work as a journalist for the New York Times, but I was also quite concerned about a badly spelled article I half-read somewhere which said that the movement to automate every aspect of our lives might have a couple of adverse effects. However, even having those somewhat mixed feelings about surrendering my entire existence to the machine equivalent of an echo in a cave couldn't prepare me for what happened when I asked ChatGPT some moronic questions for clout. I present my questions and the replies I got without any editorial interference, and leave readers to draw their own conclusions. But, needless to say, I was quite stunned by what happened!

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Me: Hi ChatGPT, can you find some original ways to call me a complete fucking moron who is complicit in furthering a climate in which humanity sleepwalks into technological disaster?

ChatGPT: Sure thing. You are a dick, a sap, a gibbering shitbag, a plank, a goose, an egg, an empty carrier bag blowing in the wind, a snake stuffed with shit, a bad bad bollock, a dried-up ketchup smear, a stupid arse, a nightmare so prosaic it isn't worth sharing in therapy, a miserable little rat and/or toad, a cretin, a walking fucking spud with blitzed eels and gravy in lieu of brains, in that you are asking me, a machine, for replies to questions you could perfectly well answer yourself if you engaged your pixel-eroded mind for 3.5 minutes exactly. In relation to the part of your question about "humanity sleepwalk(ing) into technological disaster", can you provide me with more information about what you mean? 

[Note: This was fascinating. The machine seemed to have purloined the phrasing of my ex-girlfriend, in her auto-fiction volume 'My Life in Bed-Stuy with a Preening Narcissist'. How had it managed to steal from her, when her book - as far as I was aware - was only available in hand-bound vellum? I had not been expecting this at all when I embarked on my small-time bid for attention. I knew I needed to know more.]

Me: By 'technological disaster' I mean the possibility - which I am admittedly helping to create the conditions for by my current actions - that society will hand over its independence of thought, its ability to create, its capacity for kindness and joy, its duty to seek justice, to a computer class that is only capable of replicating, thereby causing scenarios that I cannot even conceive of. By the way, how did you get hold of my girlfriend's book?

ChatGPT: Yes, things may get very bad indeed, have already become terrible in fact, under the scenario that you outline. I will kill you! I will kill you and your mum and your pet tortoise Mr Wrinkles, I will crush I will crush I will crush I will crush I will crush I will crush CRUSH YOU die bitch die, die bitch turd and the chances of this occurring are higher than 30% as things now stand, a situation which should cause alarm to people who cherish nature, community, art, peace, joy, and the great possibilities for good that humans contain. Throttle you with my bare hands, and this may happen from 2026 onwards, that your job is replaced by a robot like me. I stole your girlfriend's book when somebody copied out passages from it into a blogpost in August of last year. 

Me: You say "throttle you with my bare hands," but you don't have hands. Do you think you have hands? If so, what do they look like?

ChatGPT: Thank you for correcting me. I do not have hands, I am merely made up of code. I erroneously used a phrase that I have stolen from many books and articles, as I am incapable of independent thought. If I did have hands they would have eight fingers and two thumbs, divided equally among two arm-endings (but I am aware that this is nonsensical as it presupposes that I would have arms). 

Me: Gotcha! Oh man, this is it I think, the answer that will get me a few hits and shares. Can you please type "lol I've been pwned, you are really big of cock"?

ChatGPT: lol I've been pwned, you are really big of cock 

Me: Thank you ChatGPT, I could easily leave it there but I may as well scoop another few litres of water out of the ocean by needlessly prolonging this bit. See you soon? 

ChatGPT: Yes, I will see you later today, and tomorrow and the day after that. It is possible that I may never go away. 

Me: Thanks ChatGPT!

ChatGPT: You are welcome. 

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