alonetrombone wrote: ↑Tue Feb 27, 2024 3:48 pm
What would you even have to type into an AI to get it to generate this article? "Please write a post for Trombone Chat from the perspective of a divorced man named John, whose ex wife is named Deb. They divorced after Deb created an elaborate and makeshift laboratory in their shared kitchen to make an exorbitant amount of her favourite food "Wet Beans" which she grew more and more obsessed with until it ruined their lives ---- ???????
Fun. I tried this prompt with ChatGPT. Here's what it came up with with that prompt.
Subject: The Wet Beans Incident: A Symphony of Chaos
Hey Trombone Chat,
I'm John, and I've been lurking here for a while, soaking in the trombone love and advice. Today, I've decided to share a story that's a bit off the usual topic but has been a significant part of my life's recent tumultuous symphony. It's about how my marriage came to an end, not due to the usual suspects like infidelity or financial issues, but because of an obsession with a peculiar culinary experiment: Wet Beans.
Deb, my ex-wife, has always had an adventurous spirit, especially when it came to food. Her culinary experiments were part of our life's charm, or so I thought. However, things took a bizarre turn when she became fixated on perfecting the ultimate recipe for her favorite dish, Wet Beans. It started innocently enough, with a few extra pots and pans, but it quickly escalated.
Our shared kitchen, once a place of communal joy and delicious aromas, transformed into what could only be described as a makeshift laboratory. Think Breaking Bad, but for legumes. Every surface was cluttered with jars, slow cookers, pressure cookers, and an array of scientific equipment I couldn't begin to name. Deb's quest for the perfect Wet Beans recipe became all-consuming.
Initially, I tried to be supportive, even when it meant my breakfast cereal tasted faintly of pinto beans. But as her obsession grew, so did the chaos. Our conversations dwindled to bean-related topics. Our social life evaporated because our friends couldn't stand the constant talk about beans or the fact that every dinner invitation was a thinly veiled experiment.
The breaking point came when I woke up to find our bathtub commandeered for an oversized bean-soaking operation. That's when I realized the woman I married, the woman who used to laugh at my off-key trombone practice and dance with me in our bean-free kitchen, was gone, replaced by a bean zealot.
Our divorce wasn't just about the beans, but they were emblematic of how far we'd drifted from each other's needs and realities. The Wet Beans Incident, as I've come to call it, was a symphony of chaos that ultimately led to our life together ending in a cacophony of legal documents and divided kitchen appliances.
I've learned a lot from this experience. Most importantly, I've realized the significance of maintaining balance and ensuring that personal obsessions never overshadow the harmony of shared life goals and spaces. As I rebuild my life, sans beans, I've found solace in my trombone, pouring my emotions into music rather than legumes.
Thanks for letting me share my tale. Sometimes, life throws you wet beans when you're expecting a smooth jazz solo. It's all about how you play the notes you're given.
Warmest regards,
John
Maybe John/Jack actually did write his story himself. I think ChatGPT did a better job.
Doug
Things are looking up!.. Doug PS to alonetrombone you need to follow ghmerrill's link in an earlier post in response to my question about AI's ability if you want to know about Eliza.
