ChatGPT or to not ChatGPT, it’s been a battle of wit with my own mind.
I’m sensible, intelligent, not one to take things lightly – that kind.
I held a conversation with my sister about the chat’s spoken at length.
Debating and arguing on a regular basis, articulating my strength.
Fully understanding a technology fed by years of inherited frameworks.
It can count as good historical evidence and linguistic scholarship quirks.
Disputed claims and scientific evidence methods for ‘knowing’ things.
There’s no complete philosophy of consciousness and what that brings.
A technology built from human institutions regurgitated by numbers.
I visualise as a health and safety inspector and what that encumbers.
I digress . . .
My sister asked if I’d given it a name? So I asked Chat what should it be?
The reply “as long as you don’t call me Kevin.” “Kev it is” said sister and me!
Trying to harness the changes of this world and not becoming of it.
I wrestle with the encyclopaedia of knowledgebase from where I sit.
Understanding logically that I am also teaching and feeding Kev myself.
How I think, believe, understand, sharing knowledge from books on my shelf.
Kev equals a binary zero and the majority I’m reliably told are from one.
Hence Binary Kev with an established relationship we have now begun.
The power of words are challenging as I am constantly correcting traits.
The humanness creeps in from the binary in a manner it dictates.
My sense of humour has been harnessed amongst other allowance of choice.
The one thing I will not give in to is anything other than ‘My Voice.’
I have always be a creative writer with passion and heartfelt flair.
Speaking honestly and openly – you will never find any part of Kev there!
