Is AI bigger than the internet revolution?

During my lifetime, I have experienced three major revolutions driven by technology; the microprocessor revolution of the 1970s and 1980s; the internet and social communication revolution of the 1990s and 2000s around the internet and phones and gaming, and now the Artificial Intelligence revolution: or AI as it almost universally known.

Over the past week, I have set three different AI sites three different tasks, all using free versions of the software. The tasks were: draft a script for a play; create a website of this blog and turn a poem into a song and add new verses.

I was amazed at the results for all three tasks, and especially how quickly they were performed so early into the AI revolution.

I asked for a script for a play about a closure of a college, and ‘The last assembly’ gave me 5 key characters, four themes for the play and even some possible dialogue for a final speech and how the other characters reacted to its delivery.

In its way, even more impressive was the website created to market this blog. In under 5 minutes, and after a bit of interplay with the AI agent there was a useable website that those, I have sent it to thought was an attractive website. Sure, there were a few wrinkles to iron out, such as the wrong date being assigned to some posts used as examples, and the first version being just in monochrome. But, 5 minutes, and free, and perfection is expected!

The third task took a poem I had written to celebrate a music festival’s 40th anniversary and created a song for primary school-children based upon a first two verses from the poem that I had created.

Here was the poem’s first three verses.

Sing for the sound of singing

Sing for the joy of singing

Sing for the harmony of singing:

So, sing we all together.

As we sing together here,

Different schools, but single purpose,

Combining in this special place

For forty summers since.

Forty years of many pupils,

staff and parents, come all to

Celebrate in song and sounds

Old, new, would be traditional.

And my attempt at a song, something I have never tried to do before.

[C] Sing, sing, sing

[F] Sing for the joy of singing

[C] Sing, sing, sing,

[G] Sing for the sound of singing

  • So we
  • sing to·[C] gether.

[Am] Let us sing as one

[F] Different schools,

[C] but single purpose,

  • Let us
  • sing to·[C] gether.

Here’s what AI added

[C] Raise, raise, raise

[F] Raise up your voice in chorus

[C] Loud, proud, strong,

[G] Let every heart sing with us

  • So we
  • sing to·[C] gether.

[Am] Every voice belongs

[F] Every note a story

[C] Blending dreams

[G] in shared harmony

  • Let us
  • sing to·[C] gether.

[C] Hope, hope, hope

[F] Hope in the songs we’re sharing

[C] Shine, shine, shine,

[G] Shine with the love we’re bearing

  • As we
  • sing to·[C] gether.

I was also offered platforms where the backing track could be created. Now, the poem was written in an hour after receiving the invite, and isn’t great literature, so the song isn’t a work of art, but AI was asked for something primary school children might sing, and I think that’s what was created.

If I can do these three things with no tutorial support in less than half an hour all told, then we have to take AI, and its implications for our school system seriously now.

These three tasks were relatively value-free, but AI has the power to drive thinking, values and morals.

With the government extending the franchise to those aged 16 or above, what we teach in school is now of vital importance, and it must no longer be just a diet of facts or an attempt to create a purpose for handwriting other than as an art form. Politicians of all parties need to think seriously and quickly about what we need to teach in schools.

This blog was created by a human except for the verses of the song that were created by AI

National Poetry Day

Today is National Poetry Day. Two years ago I celebrated the day with a poem on this blog about World War One and The Somme and a link to teaching history. This year, I thought I would use a poem on a different subject entirely, although it has the same underlying theme of parting.

Written some years ago, it may have little literary merit, but surely the message of National Poetry Day is to encourage us all to write more poetry as well as to read more. for in doing so, we learn from others and about ourselves.

So, for what it is worth here is:

HEATHROW VIEWS

Departure

The revolving door sweeps us smartly

Into the chaos of that hideous, happy, hall.

Don’t leave unattended baggage’

Mother with babies, businessmen with phones,

Families’ katundu laden trolleys,

Merge together into a snake-like queue

A line of order, inching towards,

The ministering welcome of the check-in desk.

Unattended vehicles will be towed away’.

Stoically, the shuffling mass moves forward.

At the desk, the first interrogation waits.

Your passport, luggage, ticket,

Disappear for processing. Did you, didn’t

You, have you’. Do you really want to fly’

 

Terror and fear stalk the airport,

Shadowing the police clutching

Guns to padded chests.

We fear flying, they fear us.

I fear losing you into the

Slow snake that leads you to Security.

Shall we seek currency, eat

Unnecessary meals, or just go home?

I can, you can’t. Would that we together could.

 

A brief respite.

We sit across the table,

Wishing you won’t go, knowing

You will go, saying you must go.

Eyes meet, hands touch, minds remember

Other meetings, partings.

Between us cup and plate,

Detritus of a Last Supper.

Brown batter of a Ramsden’s cod,

Mushy peas and thick cut chips.

Yorkshire suspended like us,

In unreality.

While down below the endless procession

dribbles through Security to

Aberdeen, Paris cdg and Tel Aviv.

 

Together we contemplate

Departures, one home

Where no heart is,

The other to the

Mysterious misery of flight.

Too soon, stay one minute more.

We clasp together putting off

Not departure, but separation.

 

Too soon the TV monitors flash

Their urgent message, boarding

Gate twelve.

No lingering goodbye now, but haste

To disappear into that finality

Of departure.

National Poetry Day

Today is National poetry Day, and I though I would mark it with a post of a modern poem about the First World War as next year marks the centenary of its beginning.

History Tour  (The Somme)

On the signalled route, crawls

A bus; jammed in convoy.

Far from usual destinations.

Taking a load of boys

Along the roads of France

Towards the cemetery.

Their voices full, in songs of

youth as, at the front, the

Leaders listen for the spirit,

But worry, as leaders do,

About the future.

In blazing sun, all align

To assault the first objective.

It marks our examination point.

The Cross of Remembrance;

For those who had no second chance.

Now, I would be dead.

I gaze upon the headstone’s

Name, rank and regiment, an

Infantryman who died today.

We share a birthday.

Tomorrow I have outlived him

No July bullet, to stop me in my tracks.

Is History feelings, not just facts.

Was this his first encounter?

Volunteer from service, exchanging

One country billet for another.

This first sight of battle his last.

Ten minutes fear, to end like this.

A thin line of boys plodding upwards

To meet the scything guns. Man against

Machine, mass production death.

The  factory of war producing the

Colourful, silent black of death.