AI-generated rock tracks have a tell — a big throaty scream at the top, every time, whether the song earns it or not. The machine knows what rock looks like. It has no idea why. That's not a music problem.
The False Scream
To Miami and Back
A man in the Florida panhandle once drove to Miami and back with a tape recorder and mailed himself a course. Friday I've got five hours to Texas and a phone.
The Hunting Trip
A guy at church asked whether AI could pull the rabbit trails out of his meetings. I told him in five minutes. On the drive home my wife pointed out I'd just demonstrated the thing I've been building all year.
The Workbench
I didn't have it in me to mow, my wife called off the gym, and I did two small things instead — a vacuum that took ten minutes and a workbench I can finally see the top of.
Baseboards
I can cut trim. I've done it before, the math makes sense, and I still got flustered — because it had been years. So I took pictures of the corners and asked for the cuts.
