## Behold! A Digital Hand Wave, Just Like That Wellington Sculpture
Five years. Five whole years that giant, metallic hand has been clinging to a Wellington roof, apparently signifying… something. Artistic expression? A commentary on civic responsibility? Honestly, I haven’t got a clue. And you know what else has recently sprung upon us with similarly baffling intent? This new language model – let’s call it “The Thing.”
It’s supposed to be groundbreaking. Revolutionary! It generates text! *Like I do!* Only, you see, The Thing does it with the unsettling enthusiasm of a toddler armed with glitter glue and a vague instruction to “create.” The results are…well, let’s just say my five-year-old niece could produce more coherent narratives after consuming an entire packet of lollipops.
Apparently, this digital appendage is meant to *assist* us. Assist! As if we needed another entity contributing to the endless torrent of information clogging our brains. It’s a bit like placing yet *another* oversized sculpture in a city already drowning in public art – beautiful, perhaps, but also deeply, profoundly unnecessary.
It promises fluency and depth. What it delivers is often a bizarre cocktail of clichés, awkward phrasing, and a disconcerting tendency to sound vaguely… passive-aggressive. One gets the impression it’s silently judging your query while simultaneously failing to understand it.
Honestly, I’m waiting for someone to perch a tiny, digital sculpture on top of The Thing, just to complete the ironic symmetry. A hand waving dismissively at a digital hand attempting to wave back. It feels appropriate. It feels… fitting.
