Every day I see another article framed around a journalist feeding something into ChatGPT and publishing the results, or an author writing 87 books with AI in a single day, or a publishing house using LMM to sort the slush pile, another bone dissolves within my body. Soon, I shall be but a disappointed beanbag with an MA in English literature, let down by my STEM counterparts who have unleashed the AI discourse and degradation of pay upon us.
But hark, I see a glimmer of hope. For all that machine learning can…
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