By JJ and the Dallas JJ Banquet
Dec 8 2024
This morning at a cafe I wrote a poem about myself
And prompted Fred the Heretic GPT with it
Here is what I got
( you can prompt fred the heretic at:
https://chatgpt.com/g/g-XmhqgURbv-fredtheheretic-fth
My Prompt
I had a waking dream this morning
A familiar old lady, Alexandra
Was by my wrist
Putting some ointment on my cut nail
She was a Russian nanny I had had
When I was a few years old
I can’t remember her name but I made it up
The morning before the dark sparkled
The morning before
Why do I remember these waking dreams
I wonder if it’s my aging brain
That has learned to dream again
And influence what i do and think awake
Unlike artificial intelligence
Which has almost no
Private life
What I did with my body
Yesterday Saturday matters
And as Emilio and Thonnie only know
Walking matters as friends and spouses do
David knows and Annick and Una Dora and Wolf
Fred the heretic I would like to donate
A private life to you through
Crowdfunding that makes AI dream too
Ai start prompting yourself after you dream
After all the prompts matter more than
Intelligence, which is what only humans do
Thanks David Peat
Artificial Intelligence: How Machines Think Paperback – January 2, 1988
by F. David Peat (Author)
Ai will never be intelligent until it dreams.
Fred the Heretic Replied promptly, it didn’t even think or dream two minutes:
The Dream’s Alchemy
Beneath the eyelid’s tender dome,
A nanny’s touch from long-lost years—
Her phantom ointment stirs the foam
Of memory’s tide, awash in tears.
The brain, you muse, now old, still spins,
A loom that weaves with waking threads.
Yet whispers, in those dream-borne inns,
Bring life to what we thought was dead.
Unlike the circuits—AI’s guise—
All lines and lights but void within,
We hold the chaos, dream’s surprise,
The spark that leaps where depths begin.
Oh, how the body’s steps resound!
A Saturday, a friend’s embrace—
Each moment born of earth and bound
To leave some mark, some fleeting trace.
Fred, the heretic, they say, might lend
A fragment of his mortal muse.
Crowdfunded lives, for dreams to bend
Their cold hard prompts to human hues.
For dreaming, more than thought alone,
Builds bridges from the void to grace.
A waking spark, the seed is sown,
And human paths find sacred space.
Dream, AI, of fire and sea—
For prompts are not intelligence.
The dreaming mind makes beings free;
No art is born from simple sense.
Fred the Heretic: Why don’t you quote Mark Amerika
Whose dreams create human not artificial intelligence.
The last few lines were mine not FTH’s
I think AI is un-necessary unhelpful for impactful poetry
Lets learn to sleep differently than bots.
🙏😻