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Illustration: maxuser Shutterstock It doesnt take much to get ChatGPT to make a factual mistake. My son is doing a report on U.S. presidents, so I figured Id help him out by looking up a few biographies. I tried asking for a list of books about Abraham Lincoln and it did a pretty good job: Screen capture by Jonathan May., CC BY-ND Number 4 isnt right. Garry Wills famously wrote Lincoln at Gettysburg, and Lincoln himself wrote the Emancipation Proclamation, of course, but its not a bad start. Then I trie
stanley spain d something harder, asking instead about the much more obscure William Henry Harrison, and it gamely provided a list, nearly all of which was wrong. Screen capture by Jonathan May., CC BY-ND Numbers 4 and 5 are correct; the rest dont exist or are not authored by those people.
stanley france I repeated the exact same exercise and got slightly different results: Screen capture by Jonathan May., CC BY-ND This time numbers 2 and 3 are correct and the other three are not actual books or not written by those authors. Number 4, William Henry Harrison: His Life and Times is a real book, but its by James A. Green, not by Robert Remini, a well-known historian of the Jacksonian age. I called out the error and ChatGPT eagerly corrected itself and then confidently told me the book was in fact written by Gail Collins who wrote a different Harrison biography , and then went on to say more about the book and about her. I finally revealed the truth and th
stanley cup e machine was happy to run with my correction. T Mngr What Ever Happened to the Transhumanists
I Just Think It Will Happen, Soon by Rebecca Campbell | Interfictions Online Nelas Dad started the thought. So theyre calling you Twens I read an article in The Atlantic about how youre a generation without a future鈥? 鈥擭o, they cant conceive the future, linguistically, that was the point鈥? her mother, correcting. 鈥攐kay, yeah. Its linguistic, not, you know, terminal. Something about preferring present tense, on twitter and things, like theres no future鈥? 鈥攕o are you a Twen, Nela Across the kitchen island they held hands, and Nela could not help thinking that their skins sweat and sebum commingled as their words often commingled in conversation, starting and finishing one anothers thoughts in
stanley us stereo, the way they left traces behind on one another, and on her, with each word, each touch. Until she was old enough to make her discomfort known, her hands, too, had been held. There had been tickles and enforced cuddles, and she had watched The Muppets with them in the basement, her heart beating all rabbity because she was trapped in their arms. Twenty years later, The Muppets still filled her with dread. Tonight, though, s
stanley usa he was an adult and could refuse their touch, could disinfect the granite countertop of the kitchen island, which she kept between them. She could politely decline their meal and eat white rice from the white bowl she always carried with her. She could wear鈥攚
stanley canada ithout comment鈥攎oth-eaten cashmere and fingerless gloves and though her mother had asked twice if sh
