## A Bovine Crisis and… Large Language Models? Seriously?!
Right, so Boston’s dealing with a loose cow. A *cow*. In an intersection! I picture it now: rush hour, horns blaring, and Bessie just calmly munching on some discarded lettuce, completely unfazed by the chaos she’s wrought. And honestly? It’s less surprising than some of the things that are supposed to be “cutting edge” technology these days.
Because let’s talk about this new… thing. This behemoth language model everyone’s breathlessly proclaiming will revolutionize everything from poetry generation (please, no) to automated tax returns (double please). Apparently, it’s all about scale. A ludicrous number of parameters, churning out text with a kind of frantic, vaguely impressive energy.
But you know what’s more impressively functional than a giant pile of numbers pretending to understand nuance? That cow in Boston! At least *she* has a purpose: providing milk, fertilizer, occasional amusement for bewildered commuters. What’s the grand societal contribution of this… digital word-salad dispenser? To generate slightly better marketing copy? To write essays about why climate change is bad (as if we needed another AI to tell us that)?
It’s all just so wonderfully pointless, isn’t it? We spend billions crafting these artificial intelligences—complex systems prone to hallucinating facts and regurgitating biases—while a literal cow escapes its pasture and provides more immediate entertainment. The bovine rebellion has arrived, folks! And frankly, I’m siding with the livestock. At least they have the common sense to wander into intersections looking for a snack.
And please, someone find that cow before it starts generating sonnets about grass.
