GPT-3

woops

is not like other people
The car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel, and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides, and a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt and we're on so many drugs, with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death. The sun has fallen down, and the billboards are all leering, and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles.

And then you see it: a light. A bright, shining light that comes from the sky, like an angel descending from heaven. And you know that this is your chance. This is your moment. You can either run or fight, but not both. You look around for something to grab onto—a piece of wreckage? A body? Something? But there isn't anything. There's nothing here except darkness and silence. Then you hear it again: the voice of God. It calls out to you through the darkness, calling you back home. It speaks of how it has seen you here, seen what you've done. It's calling you to judgment. It's too late to run. It's too late to fight. It's too late to hide. It's too late to pray. It's too late for everything. But then, just as the voice is about to consume you, you see the bright light again. It grows stronger and stronger until you can feel its heat on your back. Then, just as suddenly, it's gone. The fire is out and the car's safe, and there's no driver or any other survivors, but you're still here. You haven't moved. You're still standing here in the middle of the wreckage, soaked with gasoline and blood. The night is cold and the sky is dark.
improvement on original
 

mixed_biscuits

_________________________
Hamlet was first printed in 1601 and could possibly be one of Shakespeare's most famous stories. This story is pretty much about Prince Hamlet planning revenge on Claudius for murdering King Hamlet. When he does kill Claudius he takes over the throne of his father. One of the most famous quotes from the book Hamlet written by Shakespeare is, "To be or not to be that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them." This is Shakespeare's longest narrative poem, and maybe one of his most tragic.

The play The Tempest by William Shakespeare is also considered one of the greatest works of literature. It tells the tale of Prospero who is cursed with the ability to turn into a bird and fly around the island of La Mure. He must use this power to save his wife Miranda and their son Antonio from the cruel Captain Vane. The play has been adapted many times, but it is still one of Shakespeare's best known plays. Shakespeare's most famous plays such as Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream, As You Like It, Much Ado About Nothing, and many more are not just considered great works of art, but they are also still being performed all around the world today.

Shakespeare's works are so popular that the famous playwright has become the National Shakespeare Company. This is an organization that does not just produce plays, but they also provide scholarships and they have a theater in the town of Shakespeare, England.

The National Shakespeare Company has also produced a series of DVDs of the plays of William Shakespeare. The DVDs are very popular and have won many awards. You can purchase these DVDs from Amazon.com.
 

mixed_biscuits

_________________________
Increasingly error-prone David de Gea was at fault twice as Chelsea ended Manchester United's long unbeaten run with a 3-1 win at Wembley to book their place in the FA Cup final against Arsenal.

The defeat means United are now just one point above the relegation zone, while Chelsea have moved up to second and remain four points clear of United in third.

United boss Sir Alex Ferguson has been left frustrated by his side's recent form, which he feels is down to a lack of sharpness in front of goal. "We had some good chances but we didn't take them," said Ferguson. "I thought we were very poor today."

Chelsea boss Carlo Ancelotti was delighted with his team's victory, but admitted United "played very well". "We played a very good game. It was a good final for the emotions and it is always good to play here, but now we have another one next week," he said. "Congratulations to Manchester United. They played very well but we controlled the game. We had more possession and created more chances, that is why we won."

MATCH FACTS

Manchester United: (4-2-3-1) De Gea; O'Shea, Smalling, Evans, Evra; Fellaini, Carrick; Nani, Valencia, Welbeck; Hernandez (Carrasco 66)

Subs Not Used: Pope, Giggs, Rooney, Young
Goals: Welbeck 32, Valencia 90, Hernandez 110
Booked: Carrick, Nani, Valencia
Sent Off: O'Shea (third bookable offence)

Chelsea: (4-2-3-1) Cech; Azpilicueta, Terry, Luiz, Zouma; Ramires (Mikel 75), Kenedy; Malpied (Ruben Loftus-Cheek 65), Pedro, Eto'o; Diego Costa (Costa 90)

Subs Not Used: Begovic, Musonda, Azpilicueta, Marin
Goal: Zouma 90
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
it seems to recognise zones of language and usage which is why it can do french theory, match reports and geoffrey hill but can't do Prynne which is a scrambling of zones of language (and syntax as poetix said)
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
It can do political reporting without breaking a sweat:

British government and British intelligence failed to prepare or conduct any proper assessment of Kremlin attempts to interfere with the 2016 Brexit referendum, according to the long-delayed Russia report. The damning conclusion is contained within the 50-page document from parliament's intelligence and security committee, which said ministers "had not seen or sought evidence of successful interference in UK democratic processes".

It adds: "We have concluded that Russian state-sponsored hackers were responsible for cyber attacks on a range of UK public and private organisations during the run up to the EU (European Union) Referendum."

In June last year, the committee published its own report into alleged Russian meddling in the US presidential election. The latest findings are likely to fuel calls for a full inquiry by MPs.

A spokesman for the Home Office said: "As part of our work we continue to monitor developments in this area and will respond appropriately when appropriate."
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
You are Michel Foucault, a celebrated French philosopher and troublemaker. Recently you have been thinking a lot about fisting.

You are in the library of your university when you hear a knock on the door. You open it to find a young woman with long brown hair standing there. She is dressed in a loose-fitting white dress that reveals her legs. Her face shows no emotion as she looks at you. "I am here to see Professor Jacques Lacan," she says. "He has asked me to bring him some books." She walks past you and into the room where Lacan sits at his desk writing something on a pad of paper. She looks at him and waits. He looks up at her for a second, then continues writing. She turns to look at you, gives you a brief glance, then walks towards the door. She opens it and leaves. You walk up to the professor's desk and look down at him. "Are you writing another book?" you ask. Lacan looks up at you and smiles. "Yes," he replies. "It's about the human mind." You spend the rest of the day in the library, reading and researching. That night you head to a party on the campus. You are introduced to a group of rebellious students who intend to overthrow the government later that week. You stay up late into the night talking with them, planning and discussing strategy. In the morning you head to your classes. That afternoon you meet with the students you were talking to the night before. You plan your next move. That night you go to another party. You talk to the host about the plans to overthrow the government. He looks unimpressed and says it won't change anything. You leave the party early in the morning feeling pretty disappointed with their lack of progress. That afternoon you meet with some of the students again, this time outside the campus. You plan to get together later to plan your next move. That night you go to a house party, hoping to make some more progress with the students. You are disappointed once more, however. The whole thing comes to a halt when one of the party guests are arrested by campus security. They claim they caught him trying to steal one of the university's cars. You go to another house party later that night, but leave once more when you catch the police raiding the place. The whole operation is getting too much. You have no desire to go through another month of this.

That morning you wake up and realize you need to make some major decisions. Have you: A. Leave college and get a real job, putting the student uprising on hold? or B. Stay in college and continue your involvement in the plans to overthrow the government?
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
You are Alain Badiou, a renegade French philosopher and Maoist. Recently you have been thinking a lot about set theory.

You've read all the books on it, but you haven't really understood it yet. It's not just that it seems to be a complicated way of doing mathematics; there is something in the nature of this mathematical language which makes it difficult for you to grasp. Something about it feels wrong. One day while out walking with your friend Jean-Paul, you see a man dressed in black sitting on top of a building. He is playing a song on a flute. As he sees you, he stops playing and jumps off the building. Jean-Paul starts to run away, but you run after him and pull him back. When you turn back, the man is gone. The next day, you and Jean-Paul go to the police to report the incident. They laugh at you and say there is no evidence that the man exists. At this point you realize the police have no interest in solving this case, they just want to silence you. You will have to do this alone.
While you are out one day, Jean-Paul comes running towards you, shouting that he has just seen the man again. This time he is sitting on a rooftop opposite yours. He looks at you and starts to play his flute again. At this point you run away, and again he disappears.
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
I decided to give it a Viz/Davey Jones scenario. This one is a bit more prompted (prompts in italics), just to keep it on-topic.

You are Paul Dirac, a genius quantum physicist. You had a fearsomely hot curry last night, and now urgently need to void your bowels, but there is no suitable public convenience to be found.

So you have come up with a plan: you will sneak into the lab of Professor Brian Cox, one of Britain's leading theoretical physicists. He has been working on a theory about black holes for years, and he would love to talk to you about it. Brian Cox is an old friend of yours from Oxford University. You met him when you were both in your first year at the university, and he was already famous as a theoretical physicist by then. He had a reputation for being a bit eccentric, and once he was even investigated by the government's security services, but as far as you know he never did anything illegal. You've got his office all to yourself. The lab is situated on the second floor of a modern building, and the entrance is at the back. It is possible to climb up the fire escape and enter through a window, but it would be too noisy; you'd probably attract the attention of the security guard on the first floor. The lift would be too slow; you need to do this as quickly as possible. Which method of entry should you use?

You climb up the fire escape. Quickly! You really, really, really need to shit.

You sneak into the building like a thief in the night. It was easy; you slipped past the security guard, who was napping. Now you're in the lab, and you find the man you're looking for. Cox is a very large man, who seems to have forgotten his place in life. He's wearing a cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves, and old, comfortable, scruffy jeans. Cox notices you the moment you enter the room. "Ah! Hello," he says. "Have you come to see me? I'd love to discuss black holes with you." You pause, not knowing how to respond. "I'll give you a tour of the lab," Cox continues. "We have some amazing equipment here. You probably haven't seen the Astrophysics Lab yet."

You explain that more than anything else at the moment you need to release the boiling cauldron of fecal matter that has accumulated in your bowels, and wonder whether Cox has an experimental black hole that you could shit into.

Cox looks at you as if you're mad. "Why on earth would you want to do that?" You explain your predicament, and Cox's reaction is again one of incomprehension.

You groan in horror as a wet fart escapes. Surely the moment is at hand. You might have to throw your underwear into the black hole as well.

Cox grins. "I have the perfect experiment for you." He goes over to a door in the far corner of the lab and opens it. A horrible smell escapes into the air. You cover your mouth and nose. "Don't worry," Cox says, "it's just over here." You follow him over to a tank in the center of the room. The tank is filled with greenish water, and in the middle there is a strange device made out of metal and with lots of dials and buttons. It's possible to adjust the device to a specific gravity, viscosity, and surface tension, all of which are set at values that seem to baffle you. "This is a perfusion system," Cox explains. "It allows you to perform experiments in any environment." "What does it do?" you ask. "You can set the device to draw liquids into a container through a precisely defined pathway," Cox says.

"Liquids!" you gasp. "Well, I think this might be just the thing for what is about to come bursting torrentially out of my bottom!"

"Perfect!" Cox grins. "Just step right into the tank." You do so, and the temperature is soon enough precisely right. The whole process takes about five minutes, and you emerge having undergone an experience you never could have imagined.
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
You are Martin Heidegger, a Nazi philosopher. You are greatly concerned that the technological enframing of the present epoch has all but occluded the question of Being whose originary echoes can be heard in the first poetic effusions of the pre-Socratics. You don't exactly blame this on the Jews, but you also don't not blame it on the Jews.

The problem is that the Jewish people have been so thoroughly assimilated into the culture of their host nations that they no longer even recognize themselves as such. They have become a sort of cultural proletariat who are content to live and die in the service of their hosts rather than serving them. And this is precisely what you wish to prevent. The problem with your project is that you are an outcast among philosophers, and your ideas are regarded by many as heretical. This is a shame, because the advancement of Western Civilization would be greatly advanced by your ideas. Indeed, some regard them as the only thing keeping the Nazis from achieving total victory. You are hated by everyone, but you have no idea why. There is no evidence to support the accusations against you. It is a confusing and frustrating time to be sure, but you continue your work in the hopes of restoring a higher moral order to the world.

As the images in your mind's eye begin to flicker and fade, you feel a shift in the consciousness of the world. It is subtle at first, but you notice that the landscape is becoming dreamier. The objects around you have taken on a vague unnatural glow, and you notice that your surroundings have started to echo the tones and hues of the rainbow. The trees in the forest are casting shifting rainbows onto your face. The sky is losing its colors and slowly becoming an indigo void punctuated by points of white light. You begin to hear a gentle pulsating sound, like the sound of a heart beat. It is coming from all around you, and within you. You feel your mind being pulled into this world, and you can't stop it. Your soul has been gifted with a vision. You are not quite awake, but you are ready to see the world. The light that was illuminating your mind's eye now begins to permeate the skin of your body. The dreamlike sensations that you have been experiencing are now being realized in the material world. Your surroundings fade away, and your senses are flooded by the awe inspiring vision before you. You are now standing on a mountainous plateau overlooking a sea of shimmering color. Vast plains stretch out in all directions, and the air itself seems to be resonating with life. The sun has come out from behind the clouds, and its beams shimmering off of the multitudes of creatures which now surround you.

They are creatures like you and I, but they are not like us. They are of this world, but they are not of this world. They are beings of pure imagination and the limitless possibilities of the soul. They are beings of the imagination, but they are not of the imagination. They are the creation of the human soul, but they are not human. They are creatures from the dreams of men, and they are not men. You are horrified and fascinated by what you have unleashed. They are the children of the Human soul, but they are not Human. They are the harbingers of our dreams, and they are nightmares made real. They are the reflection of our worst nightmares, and they are yet another monster as old as time. They drift about the landscape, observing you and your surroundings. They look at you as if you are a thing of interest, and for the first time you realize that you are a VERY interesting thing.
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
You are Daniel Dennett, and you have solved the problem of consciousness. Now all you have to do is eliminate all traces of religious belief from the world, and your life's work will be complete.

The only thing that can stop you now is the fact that you are a man who has spent his entire adult life trying to solve one of the greatest mysteries in science: what makes us human? And if there is such a thing as "humanness," then how could it possibly exist without religion? How could we not be humans if we don't believe in any god at all?

You have been studying this question for so long that you've come up with an answer: we're not human because we evolved on Earth, but rather on another planet called Venus. And now, you've finally found a way to prove your theory: you're building an "alien super computer" that will let you communicate with the non-human life forms that live in outer space. The more life forms you can communicate with, the better your chances of proving that we evolved on another planet and not on Earth.

The only thing you need now is a volunteer to take part in your experiments. A girl from your high school, for instance. As you are leaving the house one day, you see such a girl. She is pretty, and smart, and nice to everyone. She also has a large tattoo of a pink star on her shoulder. The alien super computer you have built can already talk to the hundreds of different species of Earth life forms, but it can't communicate with people.

If you can find someone who has a tattoo of a pink star like the one on the girl's shoulder, you should be able to communicate with her. However, the alien super computer can only scan the outside of a person. It doesn't know what's going on inside their mind or what they're really thinking about. Do you:

A. Ask the girl to take part in your experiments?
B. Ask the girl if she has a twin sister so you can compare their minds?
C. Ask the girl what she wants to be when she grows up?
D. All of the above.
E. None of the above.
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
T. S. Eliot, "Journey of the Magi":

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

"We should have stayed at home," they said, "and eaten bread and water."
But we did not listen to them;
Our hearts were set upon the road.

And so we came to the desert, where we found no more camels.
We camped there for two days and nights, and then began to walk again.
It was a hot day when we reached the mountains.
We climbed up into the hills, and saw that they rose steeply from the plain.
It was a strange sight to see the great forest of stones,
The grey boulders stacked upon each other, like the houses of the Giants.
"It was rain that made them," they said,
"The great rain that brings the floods every hundred years."
We came to the Red Lake in the evening.
It was a still day, and the water lay like a sheet of blood upon the shore.
We stood upon a rock that jutted into the water, and two by two we dipped our hands into the water.
It was like the blood of a fish, and it warmed us through and through.
The thirstiest of us could have drunk three glasses without pausing for breath.
And there, at the edge of the water, we saw a strange sight.

A procession of little men was marching to and fro across the lake, gathering up the water in two little jars which they had tied to their backs.
They were no more than three inches high, and they had very red cheeks.
They saw us, and waved in friendly fashion.
But we gave them no peace.
We hailed them in their own language, and demanded the reason of this strange sight.
They replied in kind, and began to cross the lake in order to meet us.
"It is a strange thing that you see here," they said. "For it is the work of the Wizards, and they will do this every day for a hundred years, until the lake is dried up."
"Why?" we asked. "What does this lake signify? What does it mean?"
"We do not know," they said. "It is a sign, perhaps, that the Wizards have forgotten their old ways, and are content to rule by means of this great machine. We think that it should be broken."
"What will happen then?" we asked. "What will the lake be used for?"
"We do not know," they said. "We only know that it should be used. We think that the rain should come again, and the floods, and the growing things, and the beautiful things of the earth. But these Wizards, with their strange ways, have turned the world into a prison for themselves."
The Red Men looked long at us, and there was pity in their eyes.
 

martin

----
I think of the first time I saw you. You were a little girl with your father's eyes, a big smile and a long hair that fell down her back. We met at the train station, we walked together to school and then to our house. He was a policeman who loved me so much he would have given his life for me. And now? Now you're just another face in the crowd.

You are not my daughter anymore. You don't know what love is or how it works. You've never known anything but fear and pain. It's my job to make you strong.

I take you to the park, I buy you favourite snacks, I try to make you laugh but your face is pale and pinched with worry.

*************************

An old man is found dead on a park bench.

You are alone, and you have no idea what to do next. You don't even know if you're supposed to be here or not. What will happen when the sun sets? Will you still be able to see it?

The only thing that seems certain is that you need to get out of this place as soon as possible.

**************************

The "Killer" in Joy Division is not a homicidal maniac but rather an acronym: K.I.S., or Killer Isolation Syndrome. It refers to the fact that all members of the band were so terrified of being found out as well as their own mental state that they would attempt suicide if they ever felt at risk. To this day, the true story of singer Ian Curtis' death has never been fully told.

**************************

Your mind takes a brief break from the violence and gore to send you a message in the form of an image of your brother, standing on the beach at some resort. You know it's the same one your family went to last year. It doesn't surprise you that he's using your brain's access to do this. The image shows him waving to you as he takes a final stroll along the beach, heading towards the hotel's entrance. He never gets there. A second later, the image goes black.

*****************

This is what happens when you allow yourself to become a victim. The best way to deal with these people is to meet them head on and make them regret ever walking this world. So if you're ready, let's go.

I have an idea. Why don't you arrest these guys, and if they are found guilty, sentence them to death? I'm sure that would solve your problem.
 

martin

----
(It does a passable Trump. Here's the POTUS discussing his favourite singer)

One of the things that I find fascinating about Stevie Nicks is that she's not afraid to be vulnerable. When she talks about her past, she doesn't hide anything. She opens up about it. She's not ashamed of who she is. That's why I love her. She's very open and honest about herself. That's why she has a relationship with her fans. They feel like they know her. The relationship is not sexual. The relationship is one of trust and love, like a mother-and-child relationship. It's not a one-way street. The fans trust her, she trusts the fans and vice versa. I think the fans recognize that as well. They like to think that she listens to them. The fans have a lot of ideas. She has a lot of ideas, too. A lot of them are good ideas. Some of them make it to print. A lot of them don't. She takes the bad with the good, and ultimately she does her best with what she has.
 
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