When I saw the new AI-generated Coca-Cola Christmas advert, I felt like I had to get something out of my system though. Watching the ad, it becomes glaringly obvious that AI isn’t capable of originality, and the slop it creates is only useful for producing soulless corporate nonsense.

Our ability to reason, self-awareness, and opposable thumbs are often said to separate us from animals. But I believe valuing aesthetics over practicality should also be high on that list.

I also believe art has become vital to our survival—especially in today’s world, where we are convinced that we’re headed toward doom. We are losing faith and struggling to find meaning. Maybe our meaning is just to create.

The AI crowd would have us believe that we won’t have to work or create anymore. Everything will be solved. AI will do our jobs and make art. But it’s all a fallacy. AI has already run out of its precious training data, poisoning the well with its generated sludge. And if their own words are to be believed, there will be even less data in the future as AI takes the jobs of artists and writers. Some experts believe that as much as 99.9% of the internet will be created by AI by 2030, with the most optimistic estimates still over 90%.

Their utopia is a world where even movies are perfectly generated for you. But how quickly would you grow tired of watching the perfect movie every time? We’d develop no taste if we never saw a bad movie or listened to a bad song. We’d grow no backbone or character if we never had to lift a finger. AI isn’t generating art; it’s generating generations of grown-up babies. Anything your heart desires, only a prompt away.

Utopia can’t be separated from dystopia. Life is in the imperfections, and art is only interesting because of the imperfections of lived experiences. That’s why human art is always better than AI art, and why utopia is a pipe dream. You can fake perfection; you can’t fake imperfection. It’s like that George Carlin quote: “If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?” If you perfectly try to be imperfect, which one are you? AI would only attempt imperfection if you asked it to—trying to perfect imperfection while failing at both.

Don’t mistake imperfection for being bad. AI slop is usually bad. Sometimes it can be good in the sense that it’s impressive to look at, but it’s never interesting. At least not to me. AI can scrape interesting info and serve it up to you, but that doesn’t make the actual work of the AI interesting—it has simply stolen something interesting. The Mona Lisa is interesting to look at in the Louvre, and it’s still probably interesting to look at in an art thief’s house. The act of stealing something isn’t admirable, even if the thing you stole is.

AI is faster, though, and in this fact, the AI crowd relishes, as to them, efficiency is the end goal. Happiness and inner peace are mine, which is why I can never find common ground with their ilk. If speed were the main criterion by which we judged art, then speed painting would be the most valuable—and it’s definitely not. Putting a price on art is notoriously difficult because there are no metrics or stats to price it by. The value is determined by how it makes us feel, what it makes us think, who the artist is, and countless known and unknown factors. Speed is rarely one of them. Unless you just fired the marketing department and need a new Coca-Cola advert at the click of a button.

The more I’m exposed to AI slop, the more I want to embrace imperfections. When AI tells me I’m doing something wrong, I must be doing something right. I’m now happy when I see Grammarly’s colored underlines telling me my sentence structure isn’t perfect. Ten years ago, I wrote a song lyric with the chorus:

“I hate the way you always spell love in Times New Roman 12-point font.
I’ll leave it all on a post-it note, or with that song we wrote about home.”

I think it sums up how I feel about all of this. How boring it will all be when everything is perfectly structured and spelled AI slop.

As a former illustrator and current contrarian, I recently decided to take up drawing again—just to spite everyone saying that art is dead or dying, and you won’t be able to work as an artist soon. I think it’s all hogwash. I think once the AI slop has saturated every nook and cranny of our lives and the internet, the value of anything made by a human will go up.

Imagine if I’m wrong. What if, in the future, art history will teach us that hominids began creating art in the form of ochre markings hundreds of thousands of years ago. That we continued to make art until the 2020s, when we stopped because we didn’t have to make it anymore, and now we just look at and appreciate the AI slop created for us. The End.

Tell a 3-year-old to stop drawing. Tell him he can put his coloring pencils down because he doesn’t have to do it anymore. AI will do it for him. The point is obvious when the example is a 3-year-old, and it should be just as obvious if it’s a 30-year-old or a 100-year-old. We don’t create art because we have to, but because we can and want to. And at the same time, we don’t create art just because we can, but because we have to. I do, at least. In creating art, we’ve become dependent upon continuing to do so. If we stopped, we’d lose our culture, and we would surely become just animals again.

To the AI bros, I propose a deal: you keep the AI slop—preferably tucked away in the Metaverse alongside the NFTs—and we, the humans of the real world, will keep the art. You don’t seem to value it much anyway, so it feels like a fair trade for both sides because we sure as hell don’t value the slop much.

What baffles me the most is the fact that the phone did nothing to make them any happier. If anything, they may be missing out on other things they could enjoy more with that money. Over the last year, I decided to spend on tech that truly brings me joy. I bought:

• A Nokia flip phone - $70

• A used Sony EOS M Camera - $130

• A used Pentax K1000 analog camera - $100

• A vinyl record player and speakers - $250

• A used projector and screen - $80

• Combined nearly one thousand DVDs, VHS tapes, video games, vinyl records, and CDs - $100 (a local thrift store sells 10 DVDs, VHS, Games, and CDs for 1 dollar on Fridays)

• A retro gaming PC - $100

• A Playstation 1 $70

Add it all up for a grand total of $900, the cost of half an iPhone 16. That’s pretty much all the tech I need to make me happy for a lifetime, and people think I’m weird when they learn that I don’t spend 6 hours a day scrolling on my phone.

This isn’t some sort of buying guide, I’m not saying you should buy the same things as me, but my advice is that you buy the tech that makes you happy. If that is an iPhone 16, go for it.

An important point to keep in mind when picking tech for happiness is that it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else, and in my experience, it rarely does.

A while back I was at a party and I walked up to a couple of friends of mine that were chatting. One of them had just bought a new TV and they were discussing the 8K resolution. As I had just joined them, they looked at me for input and served a puzzled look when I told them I couldn’t really tell the difference between 4k, 8k, and even Full HD most of the time, and I didn’t really care. I told them I prefer to watch VHS tapes on my old 32-inch CRT, and they thought I was making a joke. I went on to explain that I like film grain and even the fuzzy sound of old tapes. That I like the ambiance of an old CRT TV in a dimly lit room. Nothing I said registered. Obviously (in their mind), 8K is better than 4K which is in turn better than full HD and so on.

If you still don’t see where I’m coming from, I’d recommend that you check out Old Time Hawkey, a massively popular Canadian influencer who makes videos where he cooks and pretends to serve the viewer a nostalgic meal like grilled cheese or pancakes, often served with a can of soda or a milkshake and the catchphrase “Here you go buddy”, and always accompanies by a movie on VHS or a retro video game.

For me, it’s all about feelings when comparing new and old tech, not about specs. We’ve forgotten that technology has the ability to make you happy, or at least it used to. And the reason it did wasn’t because we spent a massive amount of money upgrading last year’s shiny thing for an additional megapixel or slightly higher resolution.

If someone asked you why you bought a certain product and you told them it was “because it makes you happy”, you would think that made a lot of sense to most people. If you told them “Because it’s newer than my current thing” without any further explanation, that makes less sense. But in the real world, it almost seems like it’s the other way around. Buying something simply because it’s newer is much more common and even more acceptable.

Not only has the acquiring of new tech become less intentional and more passive, but the technology itself has become passive. Scrolling on social media, or browsing through Netflix isn’t an active choice anymore, you’re just going through the motions.

If you think I’m wrong, imagine how we used to pick out movies in the 80s and 90s. I grew up with a video rental store as a next-door neighbor. My parents would let me rent one movie over the weekend, and I could spend hours going through the entire selection, looking at the covers. IMDB wasn’t there to help you pick a movie and you had to go by your impression of the cover and your gut instinct. This also developed my taste in movies because I wouldn’t just watch movies with a high IMDB or Rotten Tomato score, and I would have to make up my own mind if I thought it was a good movie or not. When I finally made my choice, the whole family would gather or my friends would come over to watch the movie, even if it was a bad pick it was better than watching whatever was on the few TV channels we had. I’d watch the movie at least twice over the weekend, I had, after all, spent $5 and had to get my money’s worth.

Today you pick up the remote and push the Netflix button while you apathetically scroll through thousands of movies, pick one, and leave it on in the background while you scroll on your phone, each member of your family on a different screen.

One thing I’ve found that’s really strange about the whole process is that the same movie cover in physical and streaming format will have a completely different impact on me. On Netflix, I’ll scroll past thinking “Meh”, but picking up the movie and holding it in my hands will get me excited to watch it, and I can’t fully explain why. What I find even more interesting is that it seems to have the same effect on my 3-year-old son, who is mostly indifferent to our “smart” TV, but also gets very excited about picking a DVD to watch.

For me, the return of physical media to our home has made it more alive, and happier. The feeling of picking out a vinyl record and putting it in the player sure beats listening to a random Spotify playlist on the Sonos (which never works anyway). Picking a movie together on a Friday night and watching it on the projector while eating popcorn and pretending to be at the cinema sure beats endlessly browsing through Netflix. And playing old Nintendo or Playstation games on the CRT together sure beats playing whatever live-service slop the video game developers make these days.

In the end, my advice is that when considering buying something, whether it’s tech or anything else, ask yourself: Do I need this? do I want this? and does this make me happy?

Booking a restaurant isn’t very hard and only takes a minute or two, but in Altman’s example, the agent would call up 300 restaurants to “figure out which one has the best food for you”. Whatever that means. This is the CEO of a company currently burning through billions of dollars a year, talking about booking a seat at a restaurant.

In a world where everyone calls 300 restaurants every time you go out for a meal, all the restaurants would of course also have AI agents answering those calls. But how would this even work and why would there be a need for it?

And by the way. Tech bros are being super weird about going to a restaurant. Just go to a restaurant, it doesn’t have to be the perfect restaurant every time. It’s not some sort of process that needs to be optimized. Go to a restaurant, have a meal, get something nice to drink, and talk to people.

If you really want to use AI to book a restaurant, having it browse online and book a table makes sense. Yet in Altman’s hypothetical scenario, it’s implied that the AI would need to call because some details about the restaurant aren’t available online. Now picture this conversation between two AI agents:

“Hello, I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Numwit. He’s too much of a moron to book his own restaurant table. So I would like what’s good on the menu today?”

“Yes, of course. Today’s special is the Entrecote, it is succulent, and even if I can’t taste it, the owner of the restaurant has informed me that is quite special.”

“Magnificient, I’d like to book a table for this loser and his friends. They’ll be sure to enjoy the succulent steak”

Like how is this helpful? This interaction could go on indefinitely, with one AI asking questions to another AI pre-programmed with sales pitches. The Agent would return to you and say I’ve called the 300 restaurants, according to themselves, they’re all fantastic. 187 of them have a table available. Which one would you like?

Writing this, I am reminded of a quote by Kurt Vonnegut that has been making the rounds on social media for years now, where his wife suggests he should buy a hundred envelopes online instead of going out to buy them all the time. He goes on to explain that he has a hell of a good time going to buy envelopes as in the process he can talk to people, pet dogs, and observe life. The quote ends with “The moral of the story is, we’re here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don’t realize, or they don’t care, is we’re dancing animals.”

How To Actually Book a Table

In my 20s I worked at numerous restaurants, cafes, bars, and fast food joints. I’ve done everything from working as a waiter, bartender, barista, and chef. I’ve also traveled a decent amount, and eaten at a lot of restaurants, so I know how to book a table.

For an important occasion booking in advance is fine, but I will teach you a little trick for most times when you want to go out to eat. Don’t book online, don’t call. Actually, turn off your phone and leave it at home. Now go outside and find a restaurant. Walk up to someone who is eating at the restaurant and politely ask them if the food is good. In the age of isolation that the widespread usage of phones and social media has ushered in, some people might scoff at you, but talking to people used to be completely normal, Weird right? If they say the food is good and the food looks good, go inside and ask for a table or maybe a seat at the bar. I sometimes go out to eat alone, and seats are usually available for us loners at the bar. If you haven’t gone out to eat alone, I would recommend it. It’s great.

If you’re not impressed by the food or happy with the answer. Move on to the next restaurant and repeat.

But let’s imagine that people start using AI to call 300 restaurants every time they go out to eat, and restaurants have AI to answer the calls, the process consuming vast amounts of energy for some time as simple as booking a table. You get to the restaurant and use your phone or better yet, smart glasses to scan a QR code and order food. A robot then cooks your food in the kitchen and another robot wheels the food out to your table, and you can start eating your literal AI slop, a term which now has a new meaning. What would be the point of having restaurants at all? In this dystopian near future, it would make more sense to have a robot cook the food for you at home. Is the point of going to a restaurant to just have a meal and a drink? No. If that was the point, the concept of a restaurant, a bar, or a coffee shop would have failed in its inception.

I know some people will disagree with me, and I realize that fewer and fewer people can afford to eat in restaurants in the current economy. Especially in America, the concept of eating out is deteriorating. Fast food and chain restaurants are taking over, people order cheap, soulless, and nutrient-poor food through apps that get delivered to your door, and the idea of tipping your waiter or just paying to eat at a nice restaurant is now seen by many as a needless luxury. But I think humans will start realizing again soon that we need to also feed the soul, and that cannot be done through an app or by eating a hamburger flipped by a mechanical hand.

Booking a restaurant online is fine if you want predictable, but using a chatbot for these kinds of things will start to rob you of the human experience at a certain point. Going out and talking to people will lead to much more fun. Unexpected things will happen. I have a longtime friend that I met because we asked if we could have a beer at their table at a bar. I’ve also had dinners or drinks with incredibly interesting total strangers that I’ve met in line at restaurants ( Not-so-humble brag: I even ended up having drinks with this legend). It’s also led to some not-so-great times, but we are currently in a time where people are being divided and our differences are pitted against each other. We are increasingly seeking safety behind screens, and social interactions are seen as scary to a generation that has grown up on the internet. So the next time you’re going out to eat, talk to people. You’ll quickly learn that the chatbots are scarier than the people.

And where exactly will we draw the line for an Optimus? What can and can't it do when interacting with a human? In America, the land of perpetual lawsuits, Tesla will be in the crosshairs every time someone gets so much as a bruise from an Optimus, let alone if it causes real harm to a child.

To minimize risk, Optimus will surely be programmed to be as docile as possible, which raises the question: Will it jump into the sea if I tell it to? Remember when electric scooters were all the rage, and companies like Bird and Lime littered cities with them until people got sick of it and started throwing them into rivers, ponds, and off the docks? It became costly, not just for the companies but also for the environment. Paris, one of the first cities to embrace e-scooters, has already banned them. I foresee something similar for Optimus if these robots are introduced en masse as Elon hopes. Even if it doesn't accept a direct command to leap into the river, what's stopping someone from just walking in its general direction until it topples over? It's not like it will fight back. And for a drunk person, seeing an Optimus flailing in the water might be far more entertaining than tossing a scooter.

Revenge is another sport that will surely be more fun when everyone owns a $30,000 robot. Upset at an ex? Convince the Optimus to put its head in a microwave. Lost your job to a robot? Persuade it to dive down an elevator shaft. How will these machines be insured, and at what cost? If an Optimus injures a person, it's a lawsuit. But the other way around? Walk towards an Optimus until it stumbles off a bridge, and it seems like the human is well within their rights. The robot was in the way, just like the damned scooters.

And speaking of costs, let's talk about the financial feasibility of owning an Optimus. At $30,000, the upfront price alone is steep, but that's just the beginning. You also have to factor in the energy consumption of keeping the robot charged and functional. Unlike hiring a human, which may come with a predictable hourly rate, Optimus will require continuous power, leading to an increase in your energy bills. Not to mention, the cost of insuring these machines will be astronomical. Cybertruck owners are already running into problems with their insurance due to safety issues. However, insuring the hulking piece of metal that looks after your children won’t be an issue, right? The risk factors — whether from hacking, accidents, or intentional destruction — will make insurance companies think twice before covering them. And when they do, you can bet those premiums won't be cheap.

Compared to hiring human help, owning an Optimus looks less and less appealing. A human nanny or dog walker might cost you a few hundred dollars a week, but they come with adaptability, emotional intelligence, and an inherent understanding of unpredictability. With Optimus, you're looking at not only the upfront purchase price but also the recurring energy costs, high insurance premiums, and potential liability issues. It's investing in an unpredictable liability instead of a trusted service. And let's not forget, a human won’t need a software update just to recognize when a dog is about to run after a squirrel.

Even if Optimus isn't fit to look after your kids, maybe it can walk your dog, right? A $30.000 dog walker, seems reasonable. It's clear Elon has never been around an actual dog. He probably thinks of them as meme material or a convenient mascot for useless cryptocurrencies. Ironically, with a bit of training, a dog can do more useful tasks than Optimus ever will.

Anyone who's walked a dog knows it can be pure chaos. Robots aren't good at handling unpredictable situations like that. Back when I lived in the city, I had a Rottweiler. Despite being well-behaved, he was impossible for anyone else to walk. If I so much as tugged the leash the wrong way, he'd interpret my hesitation as a cue to charge at another dog, barking like a lunatic. A few times this happened when I wasn’t paying attention which had me flying through the air in a Superman pose before hitting the ground and being dragged after him until he reached his goal. After years of training and learning each other’s languages, we eventually got to a point where walks were a relatively manageable situation for me, a human. These days, I have a Boston Terrier. She's smaller and easier to handle but still thinks she's in charge of every other dog. Even she requires caution during walks, especially since I don’t know how other dogs will react. A robot won't be able to interpret or adapt to these situations—not today, and not in ten years. At this point, Optimus can barely walk on its own. Are we really expecting it to deftly manage a tangled leash or prevent a dogfight? Just take a look at any video of an Optimus walking, and tell me with a serious face that that thing will be able to walk or untangle itself with a leash around its legs with an excited dog at the end. Most likely, it'll return from the walk dragging your dog's lifeless body behind it.

Walking a dog will just be another lawsuit waiting to happen for poor Optimus, although Elon believes the Optimus will definitely be able to both look after your child and walk your dog next year, or was it 2026? It will definitely be ready by 2027. 2028 at the latest, although the more advanced functions won’t be available until 2029, or 2030 if there are issues with regulations.

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