I’m not having satisfying conversations with my cohort on the topic of Artificial Intelligence. The business of writing, of publication, of graphic art and video, of sound, of poetry, of philosophy, of thinking and decision-making, is on fire and burning too fast, and there’s no one in my in-group to chat to about it. When I try, the whole thing is glossed over as sensationalized or as sci-fi boy talk. I’m sad.

It kicked me in the dick about six months ago. I’ve been writing a piece on Ahab’s efforts to hang a living whale in the SFMOMA and torture it continuously as an art show, and it’s been a struggle. The blood and wetness, the noises and muffled screams, the flapping and ripping of flesh and blubber on giant hooks and chains, all became a tangled blur of words, that neither author nor reader could parse out into the significance that the story laid before us. I couldn’t get insights out of the thing.

Then it happened.  I created an Open AI account and asked CHATGPT to give it a try. And I’ve become sad and wanting to talk to my friends like they’re therapists and its not going well, nobody gives a shit, nobody sees that its over, this, this is over, starting months ago.

But I don’t function long as a downer.

Sure things are over: authenticity has lost its significance, plagiarism is pointless, intelligence has been obscured, beauty’s boring. But old things now have blossoming edges on the world. And that is what this post is about: The comfort of human generated material, and the authentic-by-time-stamp reality of now-and-everything-after. Publication date, and guaranteed humanness, now are as important as materials being published by people we know…

Before I post my torturing larboard-listing whale exhibit, yodeling out to the new world, this post is an effort to share some of the works my friends and peers have created with their own human efforts and sacred time. It’s easy to pull glossy books from the front of the store, to tune in to the same old podcast host, and to live like you always have. But I’d wager that the depths of the human condition, and all the juice and profundity within it, are better documented in the back isles, on the unreviewed and unstarred programs, and in the adults-only rooms…. Ok, maybe not adults only rooms, but you get my points… Take a peek at some of my go-to back-alley content creators and artists. They deserve more than they get. They are human and give us a genuine human touch, often for free.

1) The RyAngle Podcast

Their show bounces around hot topics and has this late-night conversation-in-the-pilot-house feel to it. This makes sense because both Ryans are mariners and they both no doubt have experience letting loose in the forecastle after weeks of no land. One can listen to their intellectual talk and find a commonness that is relatable and easy. What’s more, they may leave you with a new way to look at things or, perhaps at least, a way to appreciate the world we live in: whether it’s the thought of joining a men’s group, an argument for self-censorship, a review of modern philosophy, a inside take on our public education system, or a relaxing random bout of cheap and dirty talk.

Check out their podcast if you like corny jokes, a mix of acuity, insightfulness, confusion, fun, and boat talk. Put their podcast in your “liked” folder if you always want to be able to fall back on something human. And if the Ryans are reading, let’s hear some sea-stories!

2) David Brown and Wayward Blues

His most recent full album (he refuse to publish his first because he’s a perfectionist, but I like his first album too) is called “Wayward Blues & Co Presents David Brown” and it’s a salute to heartbreak, Edgar Allan Poe, and Wilson Pickett. The depths of a man who is burning pure alcohol for fuel and painting a portrait of his dancing pal of smoke above his head, while trying to disremember his lost lover, is all wrapped up in David’s bellowing unpredictable vocals that hit every note. Take a walk down “These Four Walls,” for a peek at who David can be.

3) Norman C. Nielsen, aka. Captain Shooshnick Roquefort Vattlesquat, III

The COVID pandemic reminded Norman of his old story, from the 50s, and he decided to give his quarantine time to turning the story into a book to share with the world. Full of original cartoonish drawings and one liners only a group of sailors could come up with, this children’s book will steel your heart.

How can we not admire it:

“’No one should EVER stop right in the middle of a traffic lane, not even for lunch!’ thought Whale. ‘I nearly got BUMPED!’”

“FLAPJACK, the ship’s cook, said, ;Sorry, I have no fish today, But I have lots of lovely leftovers from breakfast.’”

“That tugboat’s name was TINKERBELL.”

“EVERYBODY WAS HAPPY!”

4) USCG CWO, Julian Bell: “Sailor’s Disgrace and Military Sexual Assault”

CWO Julian Bell, USCG.

Julian has given the world a lesson on trauma, grief and recovery. In his new podcast “Sailor’s Disgrace,” the Chief Warrant Officer shares the granular details of his rape experience on a Navy Base in San Diego in the early part of the 2000s. Julian’s podcast is, at its heart, real. The man who I once wrote a report about for a graduate level leadership class called “The Art of Authenticity,” comes to the public stage with a will to break free of the prison his trauma had encapsulated him the past 20 years.

This podcast serves as a guiding tool for others who have experienced sexual trauma. It can serve as a tool for those of us who know little about the topic, or those of us who have friends experiencing similar traumas.

Julian takes us with him to the night of his attack. He recalls the pattern on the bed sheets, the feeling of slipping into a void as the drugs took effect, the attempts to resist. He takes us into the head the next day, where he cleaned blood from his ass. He takes us through the years of denial, suffering, regret, doubt, fear, anger, and, slowly, growth.

In his podcast Julian captures the essence of a man determined to examine his own suffering and find a breakthrough to grace. That is, Sailor’s Disgrace: Military Sexual Assault, is a man’s attempt to defeat the ills of his past sufferings.

As a connoisseur of grief models, Julian’s mode is unique in its place, and significant to me directly. I would compare the podcast directly to Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s “You May Want to Marry my Husband,” or even better, her husband Jason’s book “My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me: A Memoir.” In the later examples, the Rosenthals’ approach imminent death, and they attempt to do it strategically with love, compassion, and grace. In Jason’s book, he excepts his position of privileged security (wealth, education, social-network, intact wider family), and he uses his status to navigate his suffering to the best of his ability. The premise in these stories are the same: suffering happens to us all. Their objectives are magnetic: let’s embrace the suffering, and get through it without losing ourselves, without misplacing the love, without losing the present moment.

I see Julian’s vocal presentation of his story, in all of its minute details, as his attempt to breathe. He is breaking through, and he wants others who suffer to witness his efforts. His grief model is unique in this way. It’s a real time public model and we viewers are indebted and fascinated by his strategy, and we find ourselves wanting Julian to succeed. Some of us are captured by his determination to overcome, and will ultimately find motivation through it for our own lives.

Personally, I am Julian’s best friend. I was present in Julian’s life weeks before he was gang raped. I knew the man before, the period just after, and the 20 years since. As intimate friends, we’ve seen each other through all sorts of life’s trials. Knowing that Julian buried this trauma for over a decade  brings forth an entirely new dimension for my understanding of him, of our relationship, and of the human capacity in general. I’m learning every step of the way, and Julian’s podcast in humbling to say the least… [Julian published a interview with me on his podcast recently and I feel like I came off as a douche, but that’s ok – the conclusion is the same – Coast Guard Leadership needs help.]

“Oh, and also, that tilt of the head with a furrowed brow, or a slight frown with a little headshake—uh-uh. Please don’t do that. I know you’re sad. I know you feel badly for me and Amy and our family. But pity is the last thing we need.” (Jason Rosenthal, “My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me”)

5) Alex McPike: Author

Alec was a Coast Guardsman, deployed around the globe (including to Bahrain) with tactical maritime  law enforcement teams. Before that Alec was a kid, born and raised amongst the conifers of the Pacific Northwest. He was a lover of women and words. Now, Alec is a poet and a blogger, living in Stockholm with his partner and making a living as an author.

I have ten websites bookmarked on my internet browser which I check often for updates, and alecmcpike.com is one of them. When he does post new material, which is done on his time, and not with the push of clients or employers, it’s always crystal clear, deep-clean, and comforting. Alec is, after all, a spiritual and reflective writer. His style consists of reflecting on philosophies and morality in the real world. He weaves his blog with matters from his own life, lessons from spiritual tomes,  and antidotes concealed as well-wishes and thanksgiving.

I consider it luck that Alec was kind enough to chat with me on one occasion. We passed book ideas and recommendations back and forth for twenty minutes. He went on to write a beautiful poem for Laurie Powell, the mother of BM3 Travis Obendorf, the sailor who died in 2013 during a SAR event in the Bering Sea. He gave up his time and skills for strangers, with complete and thorough kindness. His blog has those traits. With empathy, devotion, and loving/kindness, Alec navigates his road before us who read him.

6) Ryan Sayles: Cop, Author, CG Vet

Sayles was the type of guy on the boats that was just dependable. We all knew what to expect from him. Good at his work. Low key. Non-political. Uncontroversial. Get in, get the job done, get out, type of guy.

After the Coast Guard Sayles went on to father hundreds of thousands of children. He also became a cop in some random small town in middle America, probably so he could buy a big ole house for all them kids. And somehow, the bastard finds time to write novel after novel of action packed detective stories. His leading character, Richard Dean Buckner, is a cigar smoking Clint Eastwood type of character (I bet Ryan wouldn’t like that name… Oh man. I just realized that Sayles should be on the RyAngle Podcast. They could talk law enforcement, criminal justice, and where society is going crazy over these issues!!!!) who runs around punishing criminals by doing things like, maybe, “shooting them in the face.”

Ryan’s books aren’t being captured by my style of writing. He is much more of a traditional writer, with flowing narrative style and action packed story. I think Ryan is expressing his views on the world through this fictionalized character. Not to say he is pro vigilante justice, but to say that he does want obvious maliciousness to get what it deserves.

I wouldn’t place Ryan’s books on this post without knowing him first. Likewise, this post covers only persons I can with complete confidence say are genuine humans. Knowing an artist really does change the way we interpret said art, and maybe that’s the point of this article that begins with a rant on AI. We cannot “know” Large Language Model AIs – the idea of “knowing” in this context doesn’t really make sense. So we can’t give credence to the production of AI through lenses of authentic integrity, personal closeness, or heartfelt support.

What would it mean for the relationship, if you gave heartfelt support to a friend’s creation, only to find later it was generated by AI?  This would not be the same as your friend plagiarizing, but it may feel the same to you.

What does it mean for us to not know if material is AI generated or human generated? Why do we tend to scoff at  the idea of consuming AI generated art or material?

That’s the heart of this post, I think we can win by giving more attention to art created by those we know. We can listen more to the stories that are expressed by friends, and that have been experienced by them directly.

As I started this piece, I didn’t want to read about Ahab killing a whale, if that Ahab and that whale were generated by a computer. Melville blead sweat and tears to create his whale story. He blead true blue red. And thinking about that bloody blood, and everything it dripped on, is part of the experience of reading Moby Dick. As the world goes to kill Ahab’s whale for him, I bet Ahab is left disappointed. It’s not about the dead whale, it’s about the personal vendetta. AI doesn’t have personal vendettas yet, so it cannot properly kill Ahab’s whale. Neither can I. Maybe the artists I listed above can.