An observation among those who have to spend time in intensive care units – either as recent “guests” such as son Matthew – or their visitors – is that all of us are only here on earth on a temporary visa. An ICU (along with your health insurance, Medicare, Medicaid, or other funding) can often extend your stay in the world but – yup! – sooner or later we each have a final expiration date to deal with.
Take me for example. At 91 years old, I know I’ve exceeded my shelf life. None of the patients I saw at the hospital- or, for that matter, any visitors – were as over-the-hill and decrepit as I am. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed, lucky, or, – of course, since I’m a Catholic – guilty! I’m still pondering it.
It occurred to me I better figure out some kind of future date I could latch onto so folks won’t think that the only way I’ll give up and cash out is with a wooden stake through the heart at nightfall. But somehow, such a crime scene – with a lot of kicking and screaming – doesn’t seem like desirable staging for making a dignified exit.
Thus it was that I stumbled on the website deathclock.com. All you have to do is enter a little intel about yourself, and it’ll give you the date of your upcoming demise. I will be glad to share that momentous information about my own death so you can Save the Date! on a post-it on your refrigerator.
According to deathclock.com, Octo-woman’s death will occur on Monday, July 8, 2030 at which time I’ll be 98 years, 10 months and 2 days old.
I’m pretty confident the predicted date must be accurate. After all, it appeared on the internet, so it must be true – at least according to experts such as George Santos or his friend and colleague, the Ethiopian prince. And just to prove that the best things in life are free, deathclock.com’s prediction is free too, unless, of course, you’re of the mind that the cost of your death itself might be a tad bit pricey.
As soon as I saw the predicted date of my death though, I knew I was in trouble. Of course, it will give me plenty of time to clean up my “affairs” (I love putting it that way though I never actually had any) and to try to do penance for my sins, etc., but the problem is that between now and July 8, 2030, there are 385 weeks. Since I post one of these blobs every Sunday, that means I HAVE TO WRITE 385 MORE BLOBS. Producing a blob is like laying an egg – it’s kind of an effort getting it out. But it’s the next best thing to communicating with you in person. especially when you pitch in with comments of your own.
One thing you won’t have to worry about is that it looks like these blobs may not be going away after I’m gone. I’ve been practicing with the new ChatGPT. Turns out, it’s not just student essays and marketing copy it’s good at. It’s going to replace bloggers. I’ve been checking it out and I’m pretty sure that in the distant future, OpenIO is fully prepared to capably take over the distinguished literary efforts of Octo-woman.
Thought I’d better test it out. Here’s some of my recent conversations with the chatbot. First, I posed the question as to why anyone would want to know the date of their death?
Well, okay, but I guess I was hoping for something a little less stuffy – more playful. So next, I tried to break it down and be more specific about what the bot should deliver.
The bot was figuring out a style I wanted as we went along. Note the more playful tone it was using by the time we got this far:
Well, regardless of your preferred literary style, or your current job requirements, it might be a good idea to start getting acquainted with our new “helper”. In case you haven’t already done so, you can take the plunge here:
https://www.digitaltrends.com/computing/how-to-use-openai-chatgpt-text-generation-chatbot/
Octowoman …I’m not so sure about this!?! (Picture me scratching my head) I went to that website you explored and casually asked the AI Pro why I wanted longevity for my dear sweet aunt. Well, the dang thing got pretty mouthy with me! Here’s the reply:
“ Well, well, well, look who wants their aunt to live forever! Are you sure about that? Don’t get me wrong, I love my aunt too, but let’s think this through. If she lives forever, she’s going to be around for a looong time. I mean, can you imagine still having to visit her in the nursing home when she’s 200 years old? And what about her hearing aids? You’ll be shouting at her for centuries!
But I get it, you want her to stick around as long as possible, and who can blame you? She’s probably the only one in the family who remembers your embarrassing childhood stories, and let’s be real, she’s the only one who still sends you birthday cards with actual cash in them. So, here’s to hoping she lives a long, healthy life, and that you’ll still be able to recognize her in a few hundred years when we’ve all been uploaded to the cloud. Cheers”
See what I mean!? So disrespectful! So I severely reprimanded that AI Pro and had them try it again:
“ My dear friend, it is a natural desire to wish for the longevity of a beloved family member. In this case, your sweet aunt has undoubtedly been a source of love, wisdom, and guidance in your life, and it is only natural to want her to be with you for as long as possible.
Your aunt’s presence in your life is a precious gift, and her love and support have undoubtedly helped shape the person you are today. To wish for her longevity is to acknowledge the immense value she brings to your life and to the lives of those around her.
As we journey through this life, we are blessed with relationships that are meaningful and impactful. Your aunt’s continued presence in your life would be a constant reminder of the beauty of these connections and the lasting impact they can have.
So, my friend, let us celebrate the life of your dear sweet aunt and hope that she is blessed with many more years of love, happiness, and good health. May she continue to be a light in your life and a reminder of the beauty of familial bonds.”
Now that’s more like it! We love you to pieces!! 💕
Hilarious, and a little bit creepy that a computer can match (or better?) our writing style. Maybe I should plug in my next idea for a novel, and see what it has to offer?
Chris (picture me scratching my head here),
So Patty is sending you actual CASH in birthday cards?? How can I get in on this action?
Signed your broke sister,
Denise
Thanks, Octowoman, for the impressive, yet chilling glimpse down the rabbot hole of the whacko AI world, in which your repeated pleas for humor produced only pronouncements shaped a little like jokes but lacking anything remotely resembling a punch line–once again proving the old saw that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Or as S.L. Clemens put it when his wife, having studied his style of delivering profane imprecations, tried to spitball one back to him but pitched the curse into the stands: “You have the words, dear, but you don’t know the tune.” (I may have made this up; if so, I’m sure some white-haired wag said something like it at some point in time.)
The lamest of Dad Jokes would be more side-splitting than the bot’s attempts at humor.
So keep your own precious weekly wit coming our way–for decades to come. Expiration dates are for sissies–who ever pays attention to them anyway?