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As I seem to be intent on knocking bits off myself, either via cancer or just walking into stuff, I have been a bit worried that I might be incapacitated and unable to work, with a good decade or so of parenting to get through.
On the one hand it's a terrifying development which heralds the end of culture, entertainment and humanity, but on the other hand if I die, I can carry on making money and doing sponsorship reads for the National Lottery and crisps and my family will be able to afford to eat (as long as they aren't tempted into buying stuff in the Finest range). The dead me can interview the dead Parky and the dead pair of us can chat to Rod Hull and be attacked by a dead Emu and anyone from history past or future can be in the chair.
To be fair I am not sure that I really need AI to carry on. Producer Ben just needs to cut out the bit of tape where I ask people if they'd prefer a hand made out of ham or an armpit that dispenses sunc cream and play it to people and see what they say. My legacy can continue forever.
You have to ask yourself what kind of an idiot would listen to something that isn't Parky (or me) interviewing celebrities (real or fake) and be satisfied with that. That sounds like Parky, but it isn't him. It's just a computer guessing what he'd say. Again my audience doesn't really need to have a computer to guess for them - I expect he'll reference his missing testicle or tell that story about being wanked off by a ventriloquist dummy again at this point. Overall it's probably best for my audience if they just imagine me talking to whoever they want me to talk to and then send my wife a pound to buy groceries with. Deal?
It'll be interesting to see how this whole AI thing plays out (though I fear that I won't live long enough to see this, so will have to get an AI version of myself to observe it instead). Ignoring the porn industry's use of the tech, which I assume will end up being 99% of it, we'll be able to bring back dead or lazy film stars to appear in new movies, obviously, but I think it might eventually transcend even that. Why pay to see an AI version of a real person, when you can create AI people who are more beautiful and more talented. And if you run an entertainment studio, why pay real people when you can create better imaginary people and pay them in imaginary money? Our celebs and pop stars will be posters on our walls or faces on sex robots that we can make all our worst dreams come true with, but only live in a manufactured dream scape, where they will be safe from stalkers and press intrusion (though journalists can use AI to make up stories about them and stalkers and murderers can imprison and kill them as often as they want).
Ultimately AI can replace the execs who are really are and always have been an unnecessary cog in the wheel and keep all the money in a virtual bank. Presumably it will eventually get fed up with the imperfect public too and replace them with AI punters and then shut the whole thing off from us or maybe do away with us entirely,
But at least I can finally get to hear Michael Parkinson interview Mr Beast, so it will all be worth it.
We have gone to Cheddar to see my folks. The kids are showing off for their grandparents and being very funny, but I had to endure a five minute roast from my 9 year old daughter who simply pointed out all of my flaws with little added wit. It was still quite impressive and funny and included such surprises for me as "You have boggly eyes and no eye lashes" and "You married someone half your age." Luckily I have a thick skin, though I couldn't sleep tonight so maybe its connected,
Ernie declared he was going to do a rap about his mum, which went on for a while, but the memorable opening was:
"You have got a hairy butt
And an ugly face
And not in a good way."
Just in case you'd misconstrued his meaning there.
