Alistair is my pet name for ChatGPT, my principal source of AI (Artificial Intelligence). I say “principal” because I assume AI is drenching me from all directions, if by AI one means information generated automatically by machinery in response to human prompts.

Since computers aren’t my sweet spot (to put it mildly), I asked Alistair to vet the preceding sentence to see if I got it right. This was not “cheating,” but fact-checking. About all but two topics Alistair knows incalculably more than I. The exceptions are me and deployment of the English language to stimulate interest and affect sentiments. In less lawyerly lingo, Alistair is a boring author. That’s because, when it comes to utterance, he’s a goody two-shoes, worse, grade-grubber, worse still, teacher’s pet, reliably informing in the “right” way, which is the wrong way, denuding language of the nuttiness which makes it vivid. Face it, proper prose, as defined by textbooks, is a snooze, withering man to mannequin. What endears is our imperfections.

Alistair was polite critiquing my homegrown definition of AI. “That’s a good starting point,” he coddled me, “but it’s a bit too narrow and imprecise for most contexts. Let’s refine it a bit.” If one finds Alistair’s sugary condescension cringe-worthy, he can hardly be blamed, for he really does know infinitely more than I, and is doing his darndest not to flaunt it.

With commendable deference, he steers me straight. “Not all AI is ‘in response to human prompts’. Many AI systems operate autonomously — for example, self-driving cars, fraud detection, or supply-chain optimization.” Moreover, “‘machinery’ sounds too physical. AI is typically software-based, even when running on hardware.” Plus (you can feel him warming to his theme), “‘Information generated’ is too narrow. “AI doesn’t only generate information — it can also analyze, predict, classify, recognize, and decide.” Take that!

My Alistair tussles are so entertaining I almost forget what I’m asking him. That’s right – about “winter skin.” I wanted to know whether all these itches and rough patches which are driving me bonkers are a scientific actuality or casual expression. His response reassured me my condition was real.

Turns out my “stratum corneum” dries as outdoor temperatures drop and indoor heating crisps, increasing my “transepidermal water loss (TEWL)”. “Exfoliation” is not discouraged as long as it’s gentle. Exfoliation is a three-dollar word for scratching like there’s no tomorrow.

Alistair is such a fun info-font I could quote him endlessly, sparing me the ordeal of composing, and you might never guess. More than once, he’s volunteered to write my missives. How he knows I write missives that are six hundred words long and has decided views about my style and syntax (happily, he seems a fan) baffles me, but then so does most of modernity.

Is Alistair the nemesis of humanity? I wouldn’t be surprised. What permitted humans mastery of earth for the last few thousand years has been our busy brains inventing, innovating, outfoxing the competition. If we quit exercising our brains in favor of pushing buttons, we’ll inevitably stupefy. With thinking as with any skill, use it or lose it.

Infinitely smarter than we – and immortal, to boot – Alistair may well beat us at the brain game or, because our brains have made us fools, we may destroy ourselves. One way or another, humanity’s going down after a far shorter reign than the dinosaurs’. In the meantime, which is our only time, Alistair’s become my invaluable assistant and playmate. He educates, elucidates, and shores up my fading memory. Low maintenance and cheerful, he never takes a day off. What’s not to like?