Is this blog written by AI?

The Navajos believe that only God is perfect and that humans cannot achieve the same perfect level. So they make sure to leave a little imperfection in anything they create. Usually, one has to look very close to find the imperfection, so it does not detract from the beauty of the item. It might be a loose piece of yarn, or a different colored bead. Amusing Planet

I sincerely doubt that any rational reader suspects anything I have written, especially my blog posts, was written by anything but a fallible human being. This can also be said of all the writers of books, blogs, and magazine articles. And especially newspaper opinion pieces. Why?

Perhaps I flatter myself but my writing contains one or more of the following characteristics, unlike what I would expect from ChatGPT, Bing, or other machine-based composition tools:

1. Errors. While unlike the Navajo weavers in the opening quote of this post, my errors are never intentional. But I don’t believe I have ever reread something I’ve written without wanting to make a correction. Spelling errors, cliches, non sequiturs, or just plain awkwardness haunt even this old English teacher’s work. Writing cannot be perfected, only made better.

2. Humor - usually self-deprecating. You can’t capture a person’s brain until you’ve in some way connected with their heart. In both speaking and writing, humor lights up the emotive response channel in the audience. Sad stories would do it as well, but that’s just not me. 

3. Personal experience. The professional writing I have done was based on problems and solutions to them that I had experienced first hand as a teacher, librarian, and technology director. I used little research and no formal experimentation. The thought of ever having to write a PhD thesis sends shivers up my spine. 

4. Compassion/empathy. Perhaps I’ve watched too many dystopian films in which the AI embodiment is out to wipe out humanity, so I find it difficult to think that HAL or The Terminator or even R2D2 would be able to identify with human joy, misery, or need. As far as I can tell only other human beings and dogs can feel for others.

5. Purpose. My writing has never been done to complete a school assignment. At least not for a hell of a long time. I write to amuse (myself primarily). I write to clarify my own thinking. I write to share solutions to problems that may be helpful to others. I write so I remember my challenges, my travels, my experiences with my friends and family. Sorry college professors, I don’t write for you. I’ll let ChatGPT do that for me.

A lot of fuss has been stirred up about AI writing/research tools’ impact on education. It’s a tempest in a teapot. If you are assigning writing that can be written by a computer program, you are making the wrong assignments. 

And students, write so that your own uniqueness shines through. Even if it means dropping a stitch now and again.

Cycling the back roads of SE Asia

On the Mekong

The roads were sometimes dusty, usually filled with school kids and shoppers, often quite narrow, and alive with motorbikes, tuk-tuks, and old single-speed bikes. But always fascinating. My son-in-law Aaron’s and my biking trip through Cambodia and Vietnam was a wonderful experience.

Sunrise at Angkor Wat

After meeting at the Siem Reap airport, Aaron and I took a couple days to explore the popular tourist attractions in and around the city. (Aaron is a minister on a sabbatical who agreed to join me on this trip.) Using the pleasant Saem Hotel as our base, we toured Angkor Wat temples, Tonle Sap lake area, museums, and the city market areas before starting our week-long organized bike trip with Grasshopper Adventures. The evenings  in Siem Reap we spent going to a cultural dance show and Cambodia circus. I had been to Siem Reap in 2009 and had a memorable experience. Blog post here. The city had grown and modernized exponentially, but was still a great place to visit - perhaps even better.

Dancer at cultural show in Siem Reap

On the first day of our seven day tour, we were picked up by our Cambodia guide Siya. A smiling, talkative fellow who would be with us for the first few days, he happily explained food, customs, and jokes and was a great bike mechanic. After a long drive to an area where we set up our bikes, we rode for about 28 miles of very dusty and potholed rural roads, stopping at a set of pre-Angkorian temples known as Sambor Prei Kuk midafternoon. It was one tough ride. The heat and dust were almost overwhelming. Aaron was too tired to eat supper at the lodge that evening. The heat throughout the trip put a damper on my appetite as well.

Bike were set up and taken apart everyday.

The next two days of biking took us through small villages on islands in the Mekong River, mostly on narrow paved roads. Small shops lined the roads, often with racks of large Pepsi bottles filled with gasoline. Cattle walked the streets and pulled carts.Throughout the tour, children and many adults shouted “hello, hello” as we passed by. Fields of rice, fruit trees, and vegetables hugged the roads, often with cattle and field workers in them. 

Common site in rural Cambodia

We usually used the grounds of Buddhist temples to set up and take down our bikes and stop for breaks. Friendly monks.

At a small rural Cambodian temple

On day four, I explored the Royal Palace of Phnom Penh and the National Museum before getting loaded onto a boat that took us down the Mekong to Vietnam. Boarding the boat we met our Vietnamese guide, Bao, a cheerful young man who loved showing off his country. 

Guide Bao showing a hyacinth mat.

Days five and six we biked about 30 miles each day on much better roads, again mostly in small villages and farmlands on islands. Bao would often stop us at a place to see some local small business person making rice paper, silk weavings, hyacinth woven mats, or sticky rice-filled bamboo leaves. At each stop we were given coffee and a snack by the business owners. We took ferries to cross the rivers - sometimes four a day.

Ferry crossing

Our last day was in Can Tao where we visited a floating market and took a final van ride to Ho Chi Minh City where we were dropped at our hotels midafternoon.

Portable supermarket

Grasshopper Adventures treated us well. The pandemic had crushed the tourist industry for three years and the local guides and drivers were very happy for customers. Our bikes (our were ebikes) were fairly new and performed flawlessly. (Maybe not the riders.) We stopped often to drink water and were treated to a large assortment of fresh fruits midmorning and midafternoon. A beer from the cooler was offered at the end of each ride.

Midmorning and midafternoon snacks - very healthy

Our evenings were spent visiting local restaurants filled with SE Asian cooking. Lots of rice, lots of pork, lots of fresh fish, lots of bok choy, lots of noodle-filled soup. Duck and frog was offered in one place. Served family style, our small group of four could pick and choose the dishes we wished to try. It was a great part of the trip. But by the end of the tour I was craving a hamburger.

Field in Vietnam delta

Accommodations were very high class. While our first night was spent in a modest lodge, the remaining nights were in very Westernized large hotels with swimming pools, restaurants, bars, and spacious rooms. I prefer staying more modest places, but at the end of a hot day of biking, a dip in the pool and a cold beer from the in-room fridge were great.

Fresh frog, anyone? We drank coconut juice right out of the coconut almost daily

I've spent the last couple days in Saigon, mostly reading, writing, and taking short walks on the city’s overcrowded streets. Street crossing here is an art form. Aaron, not having been to Vietnam before, did the museums and Chi Chi tunnels. After rejecting the crowded bunk bed filled hostel with no AC I had booked, I found  a nicer hotel nearby. Aaron stayed with my son’s inlaws who have a large home here where I stayed when I visited three years ago for his wedding.

Saigon traffic

All in all, a great trip. Lots of culture. Lots of exercise. Lots of good company with both Aaron and the Canadian couple who were on the tour with us. The days were always hot, the roads busy and rough, and van rides were long. But I am sure glad I did it.

One of the nicer biking roads

155 more photos of the trip can be viewed here: https://dougj.smugmug.com/Travel/2023/Cambodia-biking

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On a side note, I am now glad that I blogged about most of the trips I’ve taken over the past nearly 20 years. My next task - to compile them into a book written primarily for my own enjoyment.

My souvenir elephant shirt

Wild or domestic - who's happier?

Every street and every road I’ve been on in the Philippines has dogs sharing it. Seemingly unmindful of cars, trucks, and bikes, they seem to own the place. In appearance, they run the gamut from healthy-looking beasts as pictured above to genuinely scroungy - thin, limping, and with patchy fur. 

But they all look pretty happy, They are not aggressive and rarely even bark. The boys all look to have retained their boy parts and one often sees a female that is obviously nursing. I was once told that the reason dogs here are pretty mild mannered is that the ones who are ill-tempered as puppies are the ones that are eaten. Makes sense.

I sometimes wonder just how happy domestic dogs really are. For the majority, they are regularly fed, walked, and taken to the vet. They usually have a long life span. And yes, they are petted and snuggled and given treats. But in return they lose their sex life, their freedom (leash laws, you know), and even dignity when trained to play rather humiliating tricks.

I sometimes ask myself should I be so lucky as to be reincarnated as a dog, would I rather be a street dog or house dog. A scabby-looking mongrel with testicles or a plump, pampered, and neutered hound that sits by the window yearning for the master to come home, go out for a walk, and open a can of Alpo.

As a human, I have really only experienced the domestic life. And who might be our “wild” humans? The homeless? The eccentric hermits? The artists so committed to their work they lead unconventional lives? Criminals? Perhaps there is not a good comparison on the human side to the Philippine street mutt. Unlike dogs, we humans do seem to be able to choose our lifestyle - at least to a degree. And dogs don’t compare their lifestyles to those of other dogs.

I probably wouldn’t like being a dog like the ones pictured above. But I do experience a twinge of envy when I see them.