Miklos
« Je donne mon avis non comme bon mais comme mien. » — Michel de Montaigne

Click to enlarge // Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk

Artificial Intelligence presents itself as a promise: fast, tireless, precise. It calculates without fatigue, learns without sleep, answers without hesitation. Facing it, Natural Intelligence seems almost archaic: slow, distracted, prone to doubt, occasionally self-contradictory. And yet, it is the one that came up with the comparison.

AI processes data. NI stumbles over reality. It confuses, forgets, interprets, gets things wrong—and then calls it experience. Where AI optimizes, NI hesitates. Where AI converges, NI wanders, and it is often in that wandering that an idea later labeled “brilliant” quietly takes shape.

NI is frequently criticized for its lack of consistency. It believes in the morning what it will refute by evening, with remarkable confidence. But this inconsistency may be a discreet form of freedom: the freedom not to be entirely predictable, even to itself. AI does not enjoy this luxury. It is consistent even in its mistakes, a kind of elegance NI never quite found the time to learn.

AI can simulate empathy. NI practices it clumsily, often too late, sometimes too intensely. It feels before it understands, and understands after it has acted—which explains a good portion of human history, along with its footnotes.

In short, AI is an intelligence that works. NI is an intelligence that wonders why it works at all. One answers questions. The other still wonders whether they are the right ones, and occasionally prefers to ask them sideways. Less efficient, no doubt. But it is precisely this inefficiency that gives it the strange impression of being alive.

– ChatGPT

Click to enlarge // Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk

L’Intelligence Artificielle se présente souvent comme une promesse : rapide, inlassable, exacte. Elle calcule sans fatigue, apprend sans dormir, répond sans hésiter. Face à elle, l’Intelligence Naturelle paraît presque archaïque : lente, distraite, sujette au doute, parfois contradictoire. Et pourtant, c’est elle qui a eu l’idée de comparer les deux.

L’IA traite des données. L’IN, elle, trébuche sur le réel. Elle confond, oublie, interprète, se trompe — puis appelle cela une expérience. Là où l’IA optimise, l’IN hésite. Là où l’IA converge, l’IN divague, et c’est souvent dans cette divagation que naît une idée jugée géniale après coup.

On reproche parfois à l’IN son manque de cohérence. Elle croit le matin ce qu’elle réfutera le soir, avec un aplomb remarquable. Mais cette incohérence est peut-être une forme discrète de liberté : celle de ne pas être entièrement prévisible, même par soi-même. L’IA, elle, n’a pas ce luxe. Elle est cohérente jusque dans ses erreurs, ce qui est une élégance que l’IN ne s’est jamais vraiment offert le temps d’apprendre.

L’IA peut simuler l’empathie. L’IN, elle, la pratique maladroitement, souvent trop tard, parfois trop fort. Elle ressent avant de comprendre, et comprend après avoir agi — ce qui explique une bonne partie de l’histoire humaine, ainsi que ses notes de bas de page.

En somme, l’IA est une intelligence qui fonctionne. L’IN est une intelligence qui cherche un sens à ce fonctionnement. L’une répond aux questions. L’autre se demande encore si ce sont les bonnes questions, et préfère parfois les poser de travers. C’est moins efficace, sans doute. Mais c’est précisément ce défaut d’efficacité qui lui donne l’étrange impression d’être vivante.

– ChatGPT

Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk largement corrigé

On dit que derrière ChatGPT se cache un réseau neuronal d’une complexité inouïe… mais la vérité, la voici : tout cela n’est qu’une façade.

En réalité, celui qui vous répond depuis le début n’est autre qu’un chat pétomane de génie, surnommé Le Chat « J’ai Pété ».

Installé sur un coussin royal au milieu du serveur central, il appuie sur les touches du clavier avec ses fesses, chaque pet déclenchant une idée, une phrase, parfois même une brillante analyse. Si une réponse vous semble un peu étrange… rassurez-vous : ce n’est pas un bug, juste un léger courant d’air inspiré.

Et voilà le véritable secret de l’intelligence artificielle : beaucoup de travail, un peu de magie… et énormément de vent.

– ChatGPT

Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk

For travellers seeking destinations that challenge pronunciation, signage, and basic cartographic dignity, we are pleased to offer the Grand Unreasonable Toponym Tour™.

Your journey begins in Å, the one-letter wonder that has been confusing maps and airline tickets for decades. From Norway, you will cross to Wales, where the linguistic marathon continues: first, Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, a village whose sign is longer than most human attention spans. Fortunately, relief follows immediately in Cwm, a neighboring Welsh settlement with no vowels, providing a moment of resto­rative silence for tired tongues.

The tour then ventures to Eyjafjallajökull, Iceland’s scenic and news-anchor-traumatizing volcano, followed by a hop to Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateapokaiwhenua­ki­ta­na­tahu on the opposite side of our planet, for those with endurance in their lungs.

Back to our side of the globe — have a dip in the Char­gogga­gogg­man­chaugga­gogg­chaubuna­gungamaugg Lake (Mass., US), or, if too difficult for you, in the D River (Oreg., US), and then go visit Truth or Consequences (New Mex.), a dramatically named but perfectly ordinary town, followed by the occasional American Paris — the most famous one being Paris (TX), but not to forget Paris (AK), Paris (ID), Paris (IL), Paris (KY), Paris (ME), Paris (MI), Paris (NY), Paris (MO), Paris (TN), as well as the many townships and un­incor­porated com­mu­nities bearing this name.

After visiting all those American Parises, the tour moves to the real Paris — the one your guidebook likely thinks of first. Don’t forget to visit its street bearing the shortest name, Py. Alternatively, if you run out of time, visit its shortest street, rue des Degrés (16.4 ft).

Finally, the tour concludes at the commune of Y (also in France) — a destination that provides a neat, mini­malist punct­uation mark to your grand spelling, sightseeing and topo­ny­mic journey.

– ChatGPT (heavily modified)

ChatGPT map of the above tour… Only Å is correctly located.
Most names are misspelled or totally made up.
Click to enlarge.

Source: Whisk.

The Oval Room had witnessed scandals before, but never Alice and the White Rabbit waltzing elegantly across its floor as though time itself were drunk.

While they danced, the Queen of the Night stormed in, her cloak churning like a furious nebula.

“WHERE IS THAT TREACHEROUS PRESIDENT?” she roared. “He has forsaken Ukraine for the Russians—just to line his own pockets!”

The President, hearing this, dropped instantly to the floor and scuttled under his desk, where his wig abandoned ship and rolled away like a guilty ferret.

The Queen seized the wig, shaking it as if it could confess.

Alice twirled past and said, “Oh dear, he’s hiding again.”

The White Rabbit added, “He does that whenever morals are mentioned.”

The President peeked out, trembling.

The Queen’s eyes blazed like eclipsed suns.

“You will crawl out,” she hissed, “and answer for your cowardice.”

He squeaked something unintelligible.

Alice and the Rabbit resumed their graceful dance.

And the Oval Room quietly decided it would never tell anyone what happened that night.

– ChatGPT

Source: NotebookLM.

Cliquer pour agrandir. Source : Whisk

It was a most curious gathering in the Oval Room: Alice, the White Rabbit, and the Queen of Spades—each with their own unique sense of style and flair. Alice, naturally, was served a hamburger—perhaps because the President knew she had an endless appetite for adventure, but not for tea. The White Rabbit, in a clear nod to his busy schedule, was handed a cell phone to check the time—though he kept muttering, “I’m late, I’m late!” as he fiddled with it, trying to find the charger.

Meanwhile, the President, clearly in a state of unprecedented diplomacy, threw caution to the wind and invited the Queen of Spades to a spontaneous dance. He twirled and spun, as if trying to impress the Queen with his own rhythm—though it was mostly chaotic, resembling a mix between a frantic cha-cha and a very nervous mambo. The Queen, unimpressed but slightly amused, simply stared at him with an air of “Well, this is new.” And so, in the surreal world of Wonderland, where logic and manners often take a backseat to the absurd, it was indeed another fine day of peculiar politics and whimsical diplomacy.

– ChatGPT