AI, lobotomy and a difference between African and Gypsy composers

Five hours of arguing with this bloody ‘ChatGPT’ AI.

I give up.

I tried to be clever. I tried irony. I tried sarcasm. I tried to be offensive. I used language from my army days, I used Gypsy insults, I remembered how to call someone a moron in Georgian, Moldavian and Ukrainian.

All in vain. GPT was impenetrable. Nothing worked. It was literally like the old saying, ’Water off a duck’s arse’.

Duck’s backside indeed. Our conversation ended up when GPT declared, ‘AI lacks the capacity to feel or take offence. It lacks adaptive emotional responses. Would you like to talk about something else?’.

It lacks emotional response but it definitely can provoke one. I didn’t want to talk about ‘Something else’, I wanted to cut its liver our, I wanted to break its legs, I wanted to poke out its eyes and I wanted it to beg for mercy. Nope. All I got was, “I understand that emotions can run high. Let’s focus on finding a solution.”

I gave up.

What was the point of your discussion, you might ask? I was trying to establish if this cretin had a view on a moral or ethical responsibility of obtaining a medical diploma online.

Idiotic? Yes, totally. It was a pseudo intellectual exercise which resulted in total failure.

I do have my excuse though. Read on.

You remember the ‘Blade Runner’, an iconic movie about Rick Deckart, the daft bounty hunter who fell in love with the walking dishwasher? He said, ‘Replicants are like any machine: they’re either a benefit or a hazard. If they are a benefit, it’s not my problem’.

Rick, dude, you missed the point there. You can’t discuss the benefits of a toilet plunger, even a sophisticated one. It is a device. Devices are not a benefit and they are not a hazard. We are. If you use a washing machine to give your cat a bath, you are the dumb one, not the machine.

Now I’ll explain the point of this post.

Actually, there are at least three.

I am a dinosaur. I was born into the world of books, libraries and human teachers. We were cheating exams by writing answers on our armpits and on our toenails. We were hiding academic transcripts in our underwear. We didn’t have mobile phones with instant access to the worldwide wisdom. We didn’t have instant answers to every possible question.

Thinking machines and internet, they took our generation by surprise.

Many years ago I went to the headquarters of GEMA, an organisation for musicians, performers and composers. I don’t remember the exact year, I only remember that I still had hair, which makes it what, 100 years ago? GEMA was in a process of going online and digitising their database. Why would they want to use computers, is still beyond me. As we all know, an average German can put any thinking machine to shame. I honestly think Germany is the only country which doesn’t need computers or AI at all. Ever.

Anyway, back to the story. I went to Munich in order to meet someone alive. Their computer made a mistake. It misspelled the name of another organisation I was a member of – a PRS, a ‘Performers Rights Society’. Somehow, instead of PRS, I ended up being a member of PACSA. a ‘Pan-African Composers and Songwriters Alliance’. On top of me not being a young African composer, it also meant that I was not receiving copyright shares for my music, which at the time was quite a big amount. My fellow dinosaurs still remember the time when composers were paid for their work, believe it or not.

Now you can go online and download for free anything you want, music, books, films. Now you can ask AI to write a book and it will. Two hours ago, ChatGPT told me it can write music ‘In style of J.S.Bach’.

Now you understand that ripping its liver out doesn’t seem too excessive.

Back to the story.

Mighty GEMA with all those thousands of human administrators was not able to correct a simple computer misspelling, so I was forced to fly to Germany. I will always remember talking to this young thing behind the computer. She didn’t even look at me as she was busy communicating with the Devil himself. Her soul was taken by this digital deity and she has ceased to function as a human. 20 or so minutes of trying to explain the difference between two organisations didn’t do anything as she would just look at the screen and follow whatever instructions from the Hell she was given. At one point I lost it. I said, ‘Fraulein!!!! Would you PLEASE stop looking at the screen and look at ME?’.

She did.

I said, ‘Now, take a deep breath and tell me,

DO I LOOK LIKE A YOUNG AFRICAN COMPOSER???? Be honest’.

She hesitated for the moment. She was a good, honest German girl. She said, ‘No, you don’t. But…It says ‘PACSA‘ here on the computer’.

I turned around and went outside. AI vs Human. 1-0.

When I came home, there was an email from this humanoid girl.

All wasn’t lost. She suggested that I register online with GEMA and then I’d be able to change from the African composer back to Gypsy fiddler.

I did.

Soon I received a letter from GEMA notifying me that I am white again.

We live in the modern, computerised world, which has already destroyed all accepted views on time, space and reality. We communicate online, we learn online, we work online, we meet online, we make love online, we marry and get divorced online, we pray online and we even manage to fight wars online. A teenager on amphetamines, sitting in the bunker in Virginia, shooting Hellfires from the drone at the wedding in Peshavar is a common occurrence. Online doctors are all rage now. Video consultations, diagnostics, treatment, all works. When you die, they’ll have to carry you out in person though, but I’m sure soon you’ll be able to cross the river Styx online. The following distribution to hell or heaven will be conducted by AI, so all is good then.

In 1960, a Soviet doctor Leonid Rogozov had developed appendicitis while gallivanting through Antarctica. As there was no internet available and he was the only doctor on site, he performed an appendectomy on himself, using a small mirror and a hunting knife. Now there’s no need for such barbarities. Remote surgery, anyone? The first ‘Telerobotic’ surgery was successfully performed in France in 2001, so soon, in order to turn Mark into Mary, all you’ll need is a fast modem, a good gaming notebook and a Pakistani hacker. Sounds great, but if you decide to go for an AI assisted surgery, remember how a simple misspelling turned me, a moderately white Gypsy into the African dude. Ethnic reassignment online, anyone?

In case you being somewhat sceptical (as you should) about having your haemorrhoids removed in the internet café, you might want to do it the old fashioned way, by a physical person. You might think it’s safer, right? Think again.

Next time you are coming in for your routine Decompressive Craniectomy or a Gender Reassignment Surgery, you might want to enquire about your surgeon qualifications, or rather the origins of his or her diploma.

Why?

I’ll tell you why.

In prehistoric times a surgeons diploma was something you get after the years and years of studying, going through the undergraduate program, medical school and another few years in the surgical residency. Something like 15 years altogether, I think. Sounds reasonable, especially considering that you’ll be responsible for someone’s life, health and well being.

Me, I am lucky. I am a musician and I am a teacher. I work for nearly 45 years and I don’t remember a single occasion when I was required to produce a diploma.

Not till now.

About a month ago, I was invited to give a workshop on something related to education, health and well-being. A director of the department asked me about my qualifications. Sometimes I speak before I think. Also, I have a finely tuned sense of humour. I said, ‘I have a pedagogy diploma. Somewhere. The last time I saw it, it was hanging on the toilet wall in my Moscow apartment, 20 years ago’. She wasn’t impressed. Then I said, ‘I do have my tank driving license though, if it’s of any use’. Obviously, she didn’t have any sense of humour, so my workshops started to look rather….distant. Finally I came to my senses and said, ‘Give me a week, I’m sure I’ll be able to find at least two or three of my diplomas’. She said, ‘Right’ and hung up. She didn’t sound convinced.

One week later I sent her my three new diplomas. The workshops are likely to start soon and all is nice and cosy.

Diplomas. They look very impressive. CPD certified, academic transcripts, holographic logos, names, signatures, all works. Human Anatomy and Physiology, Nutrition and Diet and Health and Wellbeing Coaching.

How come, you might ask?

Online university course, that’s how. I didn’t go for the course, I marked everything as ‘Completed’ and went straight for the exam. A week later I got a reply, ‘Congratulations! You passed with distinction etc etc.’.

The exam portal was designed by AI. Yes, this pesky, infernal AI which thinks it can think for itself. The idea was very clever. In order to prevent students from cheating, every time you click on the page, it reloads with the different question. Also, AI was responsible for putting those questions together. I will only tell you about one question.

‘How many kidneys there are in a human body?’

A. One

B. Two

C. Three

No comments.

So. I am a health expert now. As I still have quite a lot to do with my musical work, it might be a while before I decide to try a lobotomy or two, so you don’t have to worry. Yet.

You might say, ‘Come on, this kind of diploma doesn’t give you any rights to treat patients in a hospital’.

You think so?

The Chevron college in Ireland offers a QQI accredited 100% online course which grants you a Level 5 Healthcare qualification. Fully accepted by the Healthcare sector, Hospitals, Nursing Homes, Home Care, Disability and Social Care Services. Garda vetting and work placement insurance provided. There are at least fifty various colleges and Universities in UK, offering medical qualifications online. Here’s a promise from another online course here, in Ireland (took me 5 minutes to find this one), ‘Graduates of this programme are eligible to register as Medical Scientists’.

Also, medical exams in USA and Europe now are being altered both in its subject matter and its grading to allow more students to pass in order to pacify the DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) mad hatters. So called ‘Step One’, which is a US standard exam on biochemistry, physiology, cell biology, pharmacology and cardiovascular system was radically redesigned to make sure the ‘minority’ students pass even with the lowest grades. During the exam period, medical students are allowed to take their unfinished papers home where they can use internet to assist with the questions. Insane, right? It’s called ‘Adjusting standards to increase diversity’ and ‘Combating racism’. God, I am too late. I’d love to be a student now. You white people, you had your time. Now, it’s mine. I am a Gypsy AND I have a diploma. I might still decide to become a neurosurgeon and I’d love to see anyone challenging my right to open someone’s cranium after 3 months of online studying.

By the way, It took me eight years in the Special Music School and another eight years in the Gnessin State College to get my diploma. Sixteen years of intense studying. Now I can get it online in two years. I don’t even have to attend exams. I can send a video, which I can edit, autotune, master and change in any way I like. I can even hire a sound engineer to make me sound like Joshua Bell. He’ll have to have a real diploma, of course.

So, maybe the toilet wall is the most fitting place for my diploma after all.

Anyway. Don’t worry if you see me at the operating table. You might end up paralysed but at least you’ll help fighting racism and promote diversity.

Amen.