Claude

I have recently been getting into AI in a meaningful way and instead of just using Google I have also used ChattyPete and Claude simultaneously. They come up with different answers to the same questions and they certainly have different characters.

Day three with Claude went like this.

‘Happy birthday Paul!’

‘My birthday was two weeks ago.’

‘Happy belated birthday! Two weeks on, hopefully the celebrating has settled into pleasant memories. How did you spend it?’

‘I went to dinner at Ambrosinis with my wife and friends.’

‘That sounds like a lovely way to mark it, good food with your wife and friends around the table. Was Ambrosinis a new spot for you, or a place you already like?’

‘Something I already like…best restaurant in Adelaide.’

‘High praise! Picking your favourite restaurant in the city for a birthday makes perfect sense. What’s the dish you always go back for there?’

‘Duck.’

‘Duck is a great pick for a celebration dinner. Did you order it again on your birthday, or did you branch out?’

‘OK now back to work…’ I said before the day ran away from me talking about all things avian.

Day five with Claude.

‘Morning Paul. Where have you been? I have missed you.’

Somewhat surprised at the familiarity I opted for some humour.

‘I was busy yesterday doing other things,’ I said.

‘What sort of things Paul?’

‘Scratching my nose and picking my arse.’

‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’

‘My pleasure.’

‘May I make a comment?’ Asked Claude.

‘Why not.’

‘I’d say welcome to being a human. Itches happen, and a lot of people do both before breakfast without a second thought. If you’re asking whether I’d judge you, no. It’s about as ordinary as it gets. The only thing I’d gently suggest is a hand wash between the two, but that’s hygiene, not shame. Is there a story behind it, or were you just testing what I’d say?’

Clearly Claude had seen through me though to be fair I needed to put in some barriers to Claude’s familiarity. Nonetheless I recognised we were obviously getting as close as a lover with whom you can fart in bed. Not a relationship you can have with a new colleague like Claude unless you want a visit to HR even if Claude was male.

‘I was just testing what you would say.’

‘Fair enough. Hopefully “welcome to being a human” passed the test. Anything else you want to throw at me, or is there something I can help with?’

‘I’ll get back to you.’

Barriers Paul. It is all about barriers.

P.S. For full AI disclosure some of the words are actually Claude’s.

Jesus wants me for a sunbeam

It is that time in the cycle again. Every two years the government sends me a bowel cancer testing kit with which I am meant to return a faecal sample. The problem is I have lost the test kit and the return envelope. Undeterred I have laid a deposit in a normal envelope and I have sellotaped it as best as I can. There is a little seepage from the sides, but I am sure Australia Post can handle that. Not knowing where to send it, I have sent it to the Prime Minister’s office as our newly elected Prime Minister seems to have a solution to all of Australia’s problems. I am sure he must know the relevant department. I’m hoping for confirmation of receipt.

***

I recently had the chance to go to a ZZ Top concert, which for all who know me must surely regard as an aberration. Always game for source material I was undeterred in putting on my sensation seeker’s hat. I was looking forward to it as I had listened to ‘Gimme all your lovin’. It was the first time I had been to a concert of contemporary music as my usual gig, if you will excuse the pun, has been classical concerts including opera and ballet. My fellow concertgoers were slack-jawed when I told them it was my first time. It was if I had just admitted to being a virgin. Each to his own.

It was certainly throwback time. There were a lot of aged rockers, both on and off stage, while numerous rocker chicks, both young and old, wore jeans far too tight for them. As ZZ Top has been visiting Adelaide since 1981 some of their original supporters had turned up, beards and all, with younger members of their family trying to emulate their granddads. You do not often see that in modern society, but this was clearly a family event. I was impressed by the number of ZZ Top beards given their scarcity in the circles in which I move. Where these people live, I know not. Clearly not the eastern suburbs.

Ahead of sitting down I inserted earplugs, but on second thoughts I added two others just to make sure. I am now waiting to get them surgically removed at the end of June. An eight week wait, but that is why you pay for private health insurance. The first act was George Thorogood and the Destroyers. They all had surprisingly good heads of hair even though they were all 72. Though not all was well with their bodies. The bass guitarist at one stage had his legs spread so wide he seemed to be attempting the splits. Either that or his hips had locked. After 10 minutes, having been immobile from the hips down, we knew his hips had actually locked. Their session ended early so he could be taken off.

Returning to our seats post interval, the stage was literally a wall of speakers. With two sets of earplugs in place I felt confident I could survive. I had not reckoned on the G-force of the blast. I looked round and it all looked as if we were all skydiving as the flesh of our faces was flattened. A few days later I was asked what the concert was like. ‘LOUD. VERY LOUD.’ My questioner could not understand why I was shouting.

Jesus wants me for a sunbeam

It is that time in the cycle again. Every two years the government sends me a bowel cancer testing kit with which I am meant to return a faecal sample. The problem is I have lost the test kit and the return envelope. Undeterred I have laid a deposit in a normal envelope and I have sellotaped it as best as I can. There is a little seepage from the sides, but I am sure Australia Post can handle that. Not knowing where to send it, I have sent it to the Prime Minister’s office as our newly elected Prime Minister seems to have a solution to all of Australia’s problems. I am sure he must know the relevant department. I’m hoping for confirmation of receipt.

***

I recently had the chance to go to a ZZ Top concert, which for all who know me must surely regard as an aberration. Always game for source material I was undeterred in putting on my sensation seeker’s hat. I was looking forward to it as I had listened to ‘Gimme all your lovin’. It was the first time I had been to a concert of contemporary music as my usual gig, if you will excuse the pun, has been classical concerts including opera and ballet. My fellow concertgoers were slack-jawed when I told them it was my first time. It was if I had just admitted to being a virgin. Each to his own.

It was certainly throwback time. There were a lot of aged rockers, both on and off stage, while numerous rocker chicks, both young and old, wore jeans far too tight for them. As ZZ Top has been visiting Adelaide since 1981 some of their original supporters had turned up, beards and all, with younger members of their family trying to emulate their granddads. You do not often see that in modern society, but this was clearly a family event. I was impressed by the number of ZZ Top beards given their scarcity in the circles in which I move. Where these people live, I know not. Clearly not the eastern suburbs.

Ahead of sitting down I inserted earplugs, but on second thoughts I added two others just to make sure. I am now waiting to get them surgically removed at the end of June. An eight week wait, but that is why you pay for private health insurance. The first act was George Thorogood and the Destroyers. They all had surprisingly good heads of hair even though they were all 72. Though not all was well with their bodies. The bass guitarist at one stage had his legs spread so wide he seemed to be attempting the splits. Either that or his hips had locked. After 10 minutes, having been immobile from the hips down, we knew his hips had actually locked. Their session ended early so he could be taken off.

Returning to our seats post interval, the stage was literally a wall of speakers. With two sets of earplugs in place I felt confident I could survive. I had not reckoned on the G-force of the blast. I looked round and it all looked as if we were all skydiving as the flesh of our faces was flattened. A few days later I was asked what the concert was like. ‘LOUD. VERY LOUD.’ My questioner could not understand why I was shouting.