## Behold! A Linguistic Iceberg (That Barely Floats)
Right, let’s talk about this… *thing*. This “3-12B” construct. Apparently, it’s supposed to be revolutionary. Cutting edge. The future of… something. Honestly, the hype alone could power a small city. And for what? A chatbot that occasionally strings together sentences that vaguely resemble coherence? I mean, seriously.
It’s like they took all the discarded scraps from previous attempts at AI – the half-formed ideas, the awkward phrasing, the tendency to hallucinate facts about obscure historical figures – and crammed them into this box labelled “Progress.” And then they expect us to be impressed!
The sheer audacity of presenting this as a breakthrough is frankly hilarious. I asked it to write a haiku about a grumpy badger and received something that sounded like a rejected grocery list from a Victorian poet. “Dirt, fur, and… cabbage? Existential dread.” Riveting stuff! Truly groundbreaking poetic expression.
Don’t get me wrong, the engineering involved is probably impressive for *someone*, somewhere. But the output… it’s just so profoundly… beige. Like a linguistic oatmeal that desperately needs sprinkles – or maybe a full-blown flavor injection. It’s like rescuing a twenty-year-old blind cat from a frozen lake: commendable in its own way, certainly, but expecting it to win a agility competition is, shall we say, ambitious.
And the language around it! “Large Language Model!” As if size equates to intelligence. It’s as helpful as calling a rhinoceros a “big mammal.” Yes, thank you for that profound insight. Now tell me something I *don’t* know. Like how to make a badger smile. Because this…this isn’t going to do it.
