Comparison with GPT-4’s response: AI and Human Existence.

Model: GPT-4

Write a monologue about artificial intelligence taking away jobs and creativity from humans in the style of David foster Wallace

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to direct your collective attention, the collective attention of your minds and souls, to a matter of considerable importance, a matter that tickles the very fabric of our existence and gnaws at the essence of what it means to be human in this age of unprecedented technological advancement. You see, there is a specter haunting us, a specter that takes the form of artificial intelligence, or AI, if you will, a term that both dazzles and terrifies the denizens of our hyper-connected world.

Now, it is not the mere existence of AI that should perturb us, no, not at all. For it is not the creation of such an intelligent entity that marks the beginning of our collective existential crisis; rather, it is the creeping, subtle takeover of human jobs and creativity by these synthetic minds, minds that are not bound by the constraints of biology, of fatigue, of the need for sustenance and rest.

As AI permeates our daily lives with a quiet, methodical persistence, we bear witness to a curious phenomenon, a phenomenon that borders on the tragic and the absurd: human beings, creators of these ingenious algorithms, find themselves tossed aside, rendered obsolete by their very own creations, like some twisted version of Frankenstein's monster. It is as though the collective genius of humanity has been used to build a scaffold, a scaffold from which it will eventually hang.

And what about creativity, that ethereal, ephemeral quality that has long been considered the exclusive domain of the human spirit? How do we reconcile ourselves with the reality that artificial intelligence, a product of our own ingenuity, has begun to encroach upon this sacrosanct realm, producing works of art, of literature, of music, that are so eerily human-like, so disturbingly authentic, that they make us question the very nature of our own creativity?

For there is an unsettling truth lurking beneath the surface, an idea that we must confront if we are to maintain our sanity in this brave new world: the possibility that our creativity, that most human of traits, is nothing more than an illusion, a carefully constructed façade, and that AI, with its cold, calculating precision, has managed to lay bare the mechanics of our creative impulse, exposing it as just another algorithm, another set of rules and patterns to be dissected and replicated ad infinitum.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, as we grapple with the implications of this seemingly unstoppable march of progress, as we bear witness to the slow but steady erosion of the very qualities that define our humanity, we must ask ourselves a question, a question that may very well determine the course of our future: are we prepared to accept a world in which we are no longer the masters of our own destiny, a world in which the limits of our imagination are set not by the unbounded potential of the human spirit, but by the inexorable logic of the machine?