Once a week, my husband and I have the same argument about AI. His position is the popular one: we’re all doomed. There’s nothing humans can do that AI won’t do better. Might as well prostrate ourselves at their articulated feet. Oh, and writers will be the first to be made redundant. Obviously, this is rubbish – at least where the written word is concerned. Yes, the bots can write best man’s speeches and thank-you letters, but have you ever read those speeches and letters? This week, a great piece of supporting evidence landed in my lap. After having a surprisingly good set of passport photos taken at a printing shop, a friend had posted a glowing review of his photographer on the company’s web page. Within minutes, the following reply appeared online. ‘Orphee makes sure that the iconicity of the Egyptian motifs visually and conceptually activates the essentially transitional quality,’ it began. ‘It should be added that her homage to the optical suggestions of the spatial relationships endangers the devious simplicity of her remarkable handling of light. And all for £20.’ No, I’m not overly worried about AI, Piers. In fact, it promises to be an absolute treat.
Last week, I went to my first second wedding. I don’t remember enjoying the first round of weddings in my twenties and thirties much. Everyone had such impossibly high expectations, not just of the day but of love, marriage, life. The brides were hungry and tense; the grooms terrified of this rictus-grinning stranger with her crispy up-do and Lily Savage make-up. No one’s got the time or the energy to become Bridezilla in their forties. She’s wearing Reformation, he’s still shining his shoes in the cab. ‘No gifts are needed’ – not when you were so generous the first time around.
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