My Hill, My Stand.

The purpose of art is not the result.

The purpose of art is not the result.

The purpose of art is not the result.

It is, for one thing,

the making - and discovery - of something outside of oneself

and so too the making - and discovery - of something within oneself.

This is my hill, my stand.

Therefore

To type something into a bar

and get an 'article'

or a 'poem'

or a 'picture'

or a 'painting'

immediately

mysteriously

and effortlessly

is not - will never be - art.

And to call it such is an obscenity.

And to use it as such is intolerable.

It is nothing but a hazy thought

and an instantaneous shoddy result

thieved from a thousand actual creativities

and congealed into one shiny and soulless facade.

When I look at an AI-rendered image, I do not see

a piece of art beyond someone's ability, magically realized -

only a precious idea

never given the respect of being strived for, failed at,

and strived for again.

All of us have ideas in our heads;

Art requires - perhaps is -

the process of making that vision available for others.

And apart from all that, we also know now

that AI is a ridiculously consumptive -

a voracious environment destroyer -

poisoning trees, birds, and seas.

So this is my hill, my stand.

I hear protests -

'I just don't have the talent.'

'It lets me do things I wouldn't be able to otherwise.'

'I'd never have the time.'

Make time.

Try anyway.

Discover what it means

for something to be worth your failure.

Discover something inside of you

that is willing to try again.

Discover the truth that

The purpose of art is not the result.

AI is the antithesis of trying;

It is the avoidance of effort,

the dodging of process,

the killing of creativity,

and more than all that,

it is the ignorance

of the depth and necessity of time

as an ingredient

in the formation of anything worthwhile.

So get off of ChatGPT.

Get off of the AI picture generator.

I mean it.

Get off of it.

All of it.

Pick up a pencil.

And learn what flows, buds, or burns inside of your own heart.

This is my hill, my stand.

And I know already that this battle is hopeless.

It's too convenient, too helpful, too fast, too cheap,

already to integral to too many broken systems,

making too much money, twisting hands and hearts.

So if I am alone in this,

so be it.

If the world forgets this hill, mocks this stand, hates this poem,

so be it.

I know already that

my rage and effort here will not be rewarded with victory,

but

The purpose of art is not the result.

The purpose of art is not the result.

The purpose of art is not the result.

Sing it, hear it, be it.

This is my hill, my stand.

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