Comment by nuclearnice3 | Hacker News Reader

Comment by nuclearnice3 | Hacker News Reader

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I guess there's no accounting for taste. I found the piece a haunting and poetic meditation on grief and recovery.

    I will tell you how it felt for me. I felt I had lost half of myself. I felt I had lost my right arm. I felt I had lost my left leg. I felt I had lost my tongue. I felt I had lost my heart. I felt I had lost my mind. I felt I had lost my eyes. I felt I had lost my ears. I felt I had lost my breath. I felt I had lost my voice. I felt I had lost my smile. I felt I had lost my laugh. I felt I had lost my tears. I felt I had lost my future. I felt I had lost my past. I felt I had lost my parents, as well. I felt I had lost everything. I felt I had lost everything.

    And yet, I did not lose everything. I did not stop being me. I did not stop existing. There were things I could do: I could make my bed, I could wash the dishes, I could walk the dog, I could feed myself, I could live in the world.

Thank you sweet Robot.

>I guess there's no accounting for taste.

I guess there really isn't. To me this reads like a kindergartener proudly listing all the body parts they know. Or some program repeating words it was given (which is what this actually is). It's not deep or touching at all because it's so comically bad.

It's amazing and raw. Not like a kindergartener. Like a person who is experiencing feelings without a clear sense of place or reason. I thought the prose was an achievement for a computer, and the sequential format allowing the AI to finish each story was a novel medium. The AI was a kind of mirror, extrapolating the mood and content of what was written before.

That's how I saw it.

The AI portions as the chorus of a song carrying the mood of the more specific bits written by the human.

I also thought the bit I quoted was evocative of my own process of grief. At first you are shattered. You've lost half yourself. You've lost everything. Then, in the slightest most mundane ways, you heal. I can make the bed. I can live in the world.

This is a level of mental problems is beyond my ability to comment.

However I will say that my comments have far more to do with tact than taste.

And yes poor sweet grieving robot. To bad her sister GPT-2 died when she was much younger.

Insulting others as having mental problems because you aren’t able to relate seems to belie a pretty large lack of tact, much less an ability to empathize.

It seems pretty clear that something in all this is really bothering you. That's reasonable, but do you suppose there might be more effective ways, than shotgunning insults across a comment thread, to try to work out why it gets to you so?

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