For the love of soul...
…can we please keep AI’s indiscriminate, sticky, techy tentacles off the Creative Arts?!
Sure, a futile request. But an artist can dream – and therein lies our unfu**able, power.
I’ve just watched arguably one of the most articulate, passionate and ridiculously witty diatribes on the inadequacies of AI by Tim Minchin, a legendary Aussie court jester of stage and screen. For more details on this talented dude with the smudged eyeliner and iconic rock star locks, get thee to Google.
Tim used his acceptance speech at this year’s Gday USA event to share his unfiltered thoughts on the tech that cannibalises originality and vomits it back up, calling it – art.
Aside from the stunningly intelligent way Tim detonates the bots that are taking over our ability to think for ourselves, feel and create for ourselves, his speech made a heartfelt pitch for authentic, messy, beautiful human expression.
There’s profound divinity in our flaws.
Here’s my prediction for our brave new world even as bloated AI bots, jacked up on the world’s knowledge, roam…
The meek shall inherit the Earth? No. The geeks shall inherit the Earth? Also, no.
The freaks shall inherit the Earth.
Those with noses deep in books, not screens. The free thinkers staring into space not pixels, admiring blue skies, not smiles preening for your feed.
The clue is in the name – artificial intelligence. And last time I checked there’s no place in art for fakes.
But that’s just a philosophy. My Phylosophy.
© Phyllis Foundis 2025