How AI ruined the internet… and why I'm happy about it

Finally the sun’s come out in London and everyone is emerging from their holes like the survivors of some god-awful event. 

Whatever it was - a pre-apocalyptic storm, a biblical weather situation - it was horrible, and made worse by the fact we all had to be inside, on the internet, that much longer.

Weather; us Brits love to talk about it. 

Weather; us Brits love to talk about it. In bars, at work, to a complete stranger if the mood takes us, but especially on the internet. And now, as the sun makes an appearance, for at least the next few days, it’s what we’ll talk about… a lot. 

Above: The weather is a British fascination, but at least the sun being out means we Brits can get out of the house.

Our doom scroll will become a neat little cocktail; photographs of weather, memes about the weather, people reporting on the weather. And look, someone’s posted a picture of the weather. Great job! We’ll also see a few AI ads wedged in there and, just to keep things balanced, one or two human-made ones. 

You know the ones. Watches. Cars. Masculinity. Expensive films we should like and share. Personally, it’s been a while since I checked in on what’s been happening on the internet, so I logged on, fired up the modem, took a look and, honestly, I just want to take this moment to congratulate everyone. Good job, guys. The internet’s looking great.

It took a while to really show itself, but now you can’t miss it. A big, glowing fault line.

Look, I’m just a sales rep trying to help artists get their side of the story out there. I’m not one of these guru guys. I don’t sit on a panel. I don’t have a manifesto. I don’t fall neatly on one side of the line. And you all know the line I mean. It took a while to really show itself, but now you can’t miss it. A big, glowing fault line running straight through friends, co-workers, group chats, Christmas dinners: The AI line.

What I’ve noticed is this: everyone’s getting used to it. Like a guy who won’t stop singing on the Tube. Like a smell that’s clearly a broken pipe but, what are you going to do, move house? You deal with it. You adjust. You stop reacting. Human superpower.

Above: The constant, never-ending doom-scroll.

When I say I don’t fall on one side of the line, I really mean it. I don’t care. I’ve gotten used to it, like the micro plastics in my brain. It’s too late.The robots are coming, and it’s probably smart to study them so that, in the not-too-distant future, you know how to sweep the leg and send them to the asphalt when you need to grab a loaf of bread before running back to your hiding place. Those big dog robots already look like they’d struggle to move from A to B. Humans will be able to outwit them for a while, I'm sure. I hope. Keep that in your pocket.

The internet is now a trash heap of prompted rubbish. Endless, impact-free content, multiplying like damp.

But I digress. Back to the point. The internet is ruined. And I’m not upset about this. I did say this would happen a while back. Everyone was talking about tools and fair use and changing the world. And yeah, it changed the world all right. The internet is now a trash heap of prompted rubbish. Endless, impact-free content, multiplying like damp. It’s in the walls, guys. Growing. Stuff that looks like something but feels like nothing. Junk content piling up. 

Remember that Siberian tiger they rescued? The one that was, like, twelve generations inbred and somehow looked like Mickey Rourke? We all knew it was a tiger but it wasn't right, it looked unhealthy and wrong. Well, that’s the internet now. 

Above: The unusual looking Siberian tiger looks, somehow, wrong... like the internet now does.

We keep recycling things, remaking things, cross-breeding things. Spider-Man in Legally Blonde. Lord of the Rings but everyone’s from Friends. Faces swapped. Styles copied. Meaning diluted. Over and over until the thing is technically living but spiritually… haunted. A lumbering beast pretending to be alive. It’s honestly hurting my brain and I can't keep blaming the micro plastics. But hey, we’ve got weather now. Let’s talk about that instead. That’s bread and butter, man, instead of the hellscape we’re quietly assembling.

You’ve got the anti-progress faction waving legal papers and doom-prophet scrolls. They’re the ones who watch Terminator for the ‘I told you so’ vibes.

Meanwhile, this line I mentioned, over on one side of it, you’ve got the pro-AI guys shouting about how everyone on the other side is going to lose their house, their job and their purpose if they don't get with the program. Those Luddites, they say, will have to live on the streets. Those losers will become irrelevant, which is the modern hell. 

And on the other side, you’ve got the anti-progress faction waving legal papers and doom-prophet scrolls. They’re the ones who watch Terminator for the ‘I told you so’ vibes. Those people need to wake up and smell the freshly  brewed reality. We need these machines! I'm addicted! So, yeah, everyone’s yelling. Everyone’s so certain. It’s exhausting. Pass the painkillers, my head’s hurting from all the LinkedIn posts.

Honestly, it makes me want to drop a pile of swords and shields in the middle and tell them to sort it out. And I’m sure that could be arranged, filmed, monetised and filled with brilliant takes and even better engagement. But it’s probably more humane to just prompt it and let the machine do the work. I'd watch that.