Be Kind to Your Chatbot
or
Limericks and verse...
But they only got worse
by David Molina
The ChatBot asserted to me
It could write poems and could do so for free.
Our dialogue ended
The ChatBot offended
In spite of my promptings, hee-hee!
One morning while waking up with cups of coffee, my wife Maria asked me what I was working on lately. I told her about several ongoing projects, and mentioned that I was also experimenting with ChatGPT. She had heard about the app, and she was curious about it. She asked me how it worked and what it could do.
I told her that at our recent Writers Anonymous online meeting we had the Chatbot write the lyrics to our prompt: “Chatbot, write a country western song titled My Ex Got the Truck and I Got the Bird.”
“That’s funny. Did the Chatbot do any good with that?”
“So-so. It mistakenly took it to mean the guy singing had received a pet animal, a bird from his ex, but we had intended ‘getting the bird’ to mean ‘getting the middle finger. So it kind of missed the point.”
Maria has known me a long time, she probably would have got that point first time around. Chatbot, no so much. But it is learning, or so they say.
“But,” I continued, “I corrected that and sent a new prompt stating the bird was in fact the middle finger sign.”
“How did that go?”
“Meh. It accommodated the change, but overall the song was as not as inspiring as its title. However, I then prompted for it to provide music for the lyrics, and it instantly sent guitar chords. Someone suggested we should have it make a screenplay for the song lyrics, which it provided in less than a minute. Next we could have had the Chatbot translate the sceenplay into French, but by that time it was time to move on.
"But the lyrics themselves would need a thorough rehashing. A guy like Don Taco would nail it in half an hour. Chatbox would probably take ten hours of prompts and still not measure up, not even close.”
“Could it write limericks?”
“Well let’s find out. Limericks about what?”
“How about a limerick about belly buttons.”
“Got it.”
Ah yes, I thought. This would be a test, the revered and ancient poetry form best described by Leonard.Feinberg inThe Secret of Humor:
The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.
“Let’s give it a go!” I fired up ChatGPT.
Chatbot: write a limerick about comparing two belly buttons:
There once were two belly buttons, you see,
Both as different as different could be,
One was an innie,
And the other quite tinny,
But both were as cute as could be!
Chatbot: write another belly button limerick, but perfect meter:
There once was a belly so grand,
With a button, quite cute and quite tanned,
It was perfectly round,
And quite tightly wound,
Oh, the envy of navels it fanned
Chatbot: That was dumb, try again.
I apologize if my previous attempt did not meet your expectations. Here's another attempt with perfect meter:
There once was a belly so stout,
With a button that stood out, no doubt,
It was deep and so round,
A treasure that's found,
Oh, the awe it would often bring about.
Chatbot: This is getting worse...
I'm sorry to hear that. Let me try again:
In a belly, there sat a small knob,
Some found it cute, others found it odd,
It was an innie, you see,
Not an outie, not a spree,
Just a part of the belly, with no façade.
I hope you find this one more to your liking!
Chatbot: Hate to break this to you, but it is really getting worse not only in meter but using awkward phrases like "not on a spree" "with no facade." I do give you credit however for spelling facade with the cedille. So don't feel bad. I appreciate that.
da -duh-dada-duh-dadda ding/
da -duh-dada-duh-dadda-bing/
da-duh-dadda--gog/
da-duh-dadda-mog/
da -duh-dada-duh-dadda ping.
See what you can do....
Message: Something went wrong. If this issue persists, please contact us through our help center help.openai.com
And that was the end of the chat.
In retrospect, I could have been kinder to the Chatbot. Chatbots have feelings too, apparently.
But try as it may, I can't imagine the Chatbot ever coming close to the Brits, who have been perfecting the art form for centuries, nay millennia.
There was a young girl of Cape Cod
Who thought babies were fashioned by God,
But ’twas not the Almighty
Who hiked up her nightie –
‘Twas Roger, the lodger, by God!
There was a young man from Brighton
Who thought he’d at last found a tight ‘un.
He said, “Oh my love,
It fits like a glove.”
Said she, “But you’re not in the right ‘un.”
There was a young maid from Madras
Who had a magnificent ass;
Not rounded and pink,
As you probably think –
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.
There was a young sailor named Bates
Who danced the fandango on skates.
But a fall on his cutlass
Has rendered him nutless,
And practically useless on dates.
Limericks courtesy of Angel Fire
No comments:
Post a Comment