## A Festive Fiasco: When AI Gets Tipsy (and I Get Frustrated)
Right, let’s talk about this. Let’s talk about 3-12b. Because apparently, just like a certain deer in England recently celebrating New Year’s with an alarming lack of restraint, *this* thing has decided to wedge itself into a tight space and cause me immense frustration. A festive fiasco, indeed.
You see, I’m supposed to be impressed. “State-of-the-art,” they call it. “Cutting edge.” As if the ability to regurgitate pre-existing text with slightly improved grammar somehow constitutes revolutionary progress. Honestly! It’s like praising a squirrel for gathering nuts – perfectly adequate, but hardly earth-shattering.
The marketing suggests sentience lurking just beneath the surface, a nascent intelligence ready to unlock…what? More eloquently phrased product descriptions? Better automated email responses? I asked it to write me a haiku about existential dread. What did I get? A series of vaguely melancholy statements about leaves and time that could have been penned by a particularly introspective goldfish.
And the limitations! Don’t even *start* on the limitations. It’s like trying to herd cats wearing mittens while simultaneously explaining astrophysics to a toddler. Attempting anything requiring genuine creativity or nuanced understanding results in a digital shrug and a cascade of predictable platitudes.
Meanwhile, somewhere in England, a deer is probably looking at me with pity, having experienced a more genuinely chaotic and fulfilling evening than I’ve had interacting with this supposed marvel of artificial intellect. At least the deer’s mishap was amusing! This…this just feels like another carefully packaged disappointment. A digital fence, if you will. And I am decidedly stuck between its slats.
