Everywhere I venture on the internet. And in every newspaper and magazine I pass. And in every conversation I overhear in a coffee shop. I’m seeing and hearing people swooning over Artificial Intelligence.
They’re waxing lyrically about its super-duper powers and it’s wonderful ‘capabilities’.
They’re spouting soundbites such as: ‘ AI exceeds by light-years any human creativity’, and ‘despite its potential risks, it’s inevitably the final step in the advancement of human evolution; where AI machines will transcend humanity’.
I also keep hearing about how AI is this all singing all dancing entity that will: ‘revolutionise exponentially the creative lives and endeavours of every writer, artist, and content creator across the whole galaxy ’.
All this verbal diarrhoea about AI has got me raging.
I’m literally pissing and shitting blood.
Streams upon streams of it.
Honestly, I’m up to my neck with bloody shit and piss. And I’m struggling to keep afloat from the tidal waves of AI rhetoric being spewed about its ‘capabilities’.
So faced with the prospect of another wave of AI bullshit. I strike back in the only way I know. By writing with the spirit and style that can override the sea of AI bullshit; that will fuck up the algorithms and smash down the walls of cyber space; which conceal the little man that lurks behind the curtain.
So, to use the rather English, and cricketing lexicon: ‘’I’m going on the front foot’. To use a rather American football lexicon: ‘I’m going on the offensive’.
I’m on the attack, and I’m not going to wait…
Standing in some murky corner with just my dick in my hand, bent over, ready to be shafted everyway till Sunday in some globalist gangbang.
No way Pedro!
Faced with the possibility – of being pounded mercilessly into a dystopian transhumanist prison. Or living life as free man.
I’m left with one obvious choice…
And it ain’t going to be lube up and touch your toes time for me. Thankyou very much.
I’m going with the living with FREEDOM option…
That’s living with absolute freedom, as a free man. And not as a free man who tucks his penis in-between his legs and says he’s a woman. And not as a free tranny, nor as free cock in a frock, and not as a free gender-bender-gender-neutral-non-binary-decaffeinated soya milk latte-vegan-triple whammy Pfizer jabbed eunuch – who calls himself, herself, he, she, him, her, they ,them, it, us, you, me, we, whatever – Dakota.
Just FREEDOM as a man, And with my penis hanging loose and not duct taped over my balls. Real freedom, that’s not wasted on fitting in with a shrunken lowest common denominator consensus version of reality.
But freedom that’s hooked up with my creative impulses which are expressed with immense power, as I create my own reality.
I did put in the subtitle this is a declaration of Freedom. And of my sanity:
I’ve got nothing to lose but my freedom. So, come hell or high water, I’m committed. I’m all in, for the battle of freedom, triumph is my only option. If I’m going down, well then it’s with tremendous fight, with all my guns blazing, and with me swinging violent blows with my sword. I will be ducking and diving, bobbing and weaving; taking hits but hitting back twice as fucking hard; landing words on the page like daggers; throwing wild passages of prose that explode onto the page like a grenade; launching every article like it’s a scud missile heading straight towards the foot-soldiers of tyranny; writing with explosive and alive language that will send shockwaves down to the very core of established existence.
How can I possible lose? How can anyone lose? When one lives and writes with a spirit of relentlessness and valour, that’s uncompromising and unstoppable.
How can one lose? When one lives and writes with a style of that is free, fearless, unique, spontaneous and imaginative.
And living with Imagination is the key. Living with it intensely. Because imagination is the antithesis of AI.
To paraphrase Lewis Carroll: ‘‘Imagination is my weapon against reality’’. It’s my weapon against tyranny. It’s everybody’s weapon. It’s our only weapon.
I’ve been over this ground before. This bloodied battlefield. I’m deeply familiar with it’s terrain.
I covered in my previous article, and in several publications on my website www.awakenyourinnerpower.org., the dangers of AI.
I have given many compelling reasons why AI is a hideous reflection of a reduced lowest common denominator culture.
A shrunken culture that lives and speaks with a reduced and deadened language that’s sprung from a shrunken catalogue.
Many times, I have elaborated on that sentiment further by tying the implications of this reduction, with the profound impact it has upon a person’s state of mind and consciousness, and how one experiences and expresses themselves.
How shrunken language shrinks a reality.
Furthermore, I have illustrated often, that ultimately AI is part of much more severe, sinister, a malevolent agenda to fuse Humans with machine within a tightly bounded transhumanistic society. That would be ruled by a few globalists’ technocratic elites in a ‘Brave new world’ that would make Huxley and Orwell wince with sheer despair and horror.
I have written about AI and its implications many times, and called it out for what it’s truly is, Death.
Death of the spoken word. Death of language. Death of thought. Death of the psyche. Death of the body. Death of the spirit. Death of the human.
However, despite these stark implications. There is a tremendous effort being carried out to win over global populations, through hypnotic mind control, fed by propaganda operatives, who’ve ramped up the PR with the ‘carrot rather than the stick’ approach. All designed to lure and seduce people into accepting and embracing their AI and transhumanist prison.
Convincing and programming people to merge with machine has been in operation for a few decades. And in a world dramatically and excessively welded with technology, and heavily dependent upon it; transhumanist and technocratic proponents have found a vast and far-ranging landscape, whose soil is abundantly rich and fecund, and perfect for the seeds of Ai propaganda to be sowed and grow flourishingly.
Technological advances sold with incessant PR propaganda to tech thirsty and tech crazy people (whose lives revolve around technology and information consumption), has softened their minds and their perceptions, primed them for total acceptance of transhumanism.
(As a brief side note, the real and major reason for the explosion in the transgender hysteria and perversion – is that it’s a stepping stone towards transhumanism, and it’s nothing to do with affirming someone’s gender and identity).
And with the PR machine in full operation, spitting out bullets of propaganda, that would make a AK-47 look like a snail; it’s enabling the opportunity for rapid transition from organic conscious human into synthetic sterile android.
That’s why writing, and language is vital. Why’ it’s Major Major Major in overcoming the juggernaut of transhumanism.
That’s why its vital, writers don’t sell out for a quick buck and abandon their creative impulses and imagination, and exchange this for: producing piles of bullshit AI generated content.
Because the pursuit of creative endeavours goes far beyond material gains, though making money from writing is not only fantastic but essential, and to be encouraged.
It relates to the pure magic of: writing with authentic creative expression, that’s sprung from the imagination. This is far reaching for both the writer and his audience. It elevates language, thought, the mind, the psyche, and the spirit into new spheres of power; where expansive perceptions and energies exist that transform consciousness and reality.
When a writer uses language that’s alive, raw, and poetic, and from a space of life, authenticity, and imagination. Then it’s electric and pulsating with LIFE.
It’s bringing to life, new life.
And the writer is doing something AI can’t do. Because a machine hasn’t lived. And I mean live, in the real sense, and actually experienced a sentient life. It’s just a machine, a system, it’s mechanical and devoid of any poetic consciousness.
The raw materials and fuel for the creative fire, which is imperative to write, comes from living and having lived a life. Many lives, many past lives, where imagination is and was intensely engaged with, to create and express oneself.
Those essential materials for writing can never arrive from any algorithm, no matter how sophisticated it is.
Because Ai can only string, merge, and format strands and sequences of data together. Even if the data is a form of language, and AI has written something with words and sentences, with pace and rhythms, and used metaphors and imagery. It’s still dead writing and language.
Why?
Because It can’t breathe any life into words that it spreads on the page. It can’t provide that aliveness. That life-giving breath comes from a soul, a human spirit, a conscious being, who is ALIVE.
AI has never ever lived. Because it’s dead. Dead in terms of energy, emotion, and poetic consciousness.
I’m sure it’s dead. Dead as a fucking Dodo.
Am I sure?
Yes, I have no doubts about that.
I tell you why I’m sure.
Because…
AI hasn’t lived and experienced:
The highs and lows of a life well lived, or lived bad. It hasn’t endured any struggles and pains. It’s never given a cuddle or been in a muddle. It’s hasn’t felt joy nor sorrow. It’s never been in a fight and had its face cut and bled, nor has it made love and then lay climaxed in utter bliss on a bed. It’s never had wild dreams and then scream when they were shattered, nor worked until one come true and celebrated until it was knackered. It hasn’t suffered losses, scored a draw, or won any victories. It’s never had to wait in queue and be bored, nor has it come first and felt adored. It’s hasn’t given birth to a new-born baby and felt proud, nor has it buried a loved one deep in the earth of the ground. It hasn’t crawled, walked, or run a mile, and then looked back with a wry smile. It’s never been wrong, nor then been right, and then been left. It hasn’t given a gift, shared a lift, nor taken anything with theft. It’s never sang sweet a song or heard a song and wished it was deaf. It’s never created something new, nor has it been bold and destroyed something old. It’s never felt its heart ripped out cold, nor has it felt it warm and melt. It hasn’t been spared the chance to dare and stare at what scares. Or the chance to dance and sway. It’s never on a vibrant day, breathed in fresh air, nor suffocated with despair in toxic air. It’s never smelt a flower or felt the colourful power of a sunset shower. It hasn’t spat in disgust, nor kissed with lust. It’s never told a lie, nor spoken a truth one can’t deny. It hasn’t cried a river of tears, nor has it laughed in the face of it’s fears. It’s never had to strive for what it wanted in Life…
So, it’s come to this precipice in the history of human civilisation.
Where we find ourselves at a crossroads.
Where an individual and a civilisation can go down two paths.
One path, leads to unlimited degrees of freedom for humanity never witnessed before.
The other path takes us to the pits of hell, where there is only death, existing merely as an android.
It’s writing with imagination and spirit, that’s pulsating with language, which is full of LIFE.
Or it’s producing content with AI that’s flat and dead.
The battle lines have been drawn!
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