Mal Content

I entered a writing competition. I didn’t win.

It took less than a decade for the creative arts to become fully synthetic. No one was particularly surprised by this. A technology so capable of making an amateur seem talented would undoubtedly make those with a real gift and something to say seem no more talented than an amateur.

Mathematics scaled the creative arts to the lowest common denominator.

Those who invested in the back catalogues of the greatest artists would inevitably wonder at the return upon their investment should Bowie have exercised AI with the same skill that Ziggy played guitar.

Corporate stakeholders soon exhumed past performers and compelled them into an automated encore. The visual arts soon followed, as did the writers, actors and directors. This undead would once more tread the boards and enjoy the spotlight.

And everyone was happy. The sheer volume of entertainment available to consumers exploded. Older customers who had exhausted back catalogues long ago could now enjoy new work from their favourite artists. Those too young to remember these classics were happy with the automated amalgam produced by this synthetic corporate content.

As for me, I was excited to see Kirk, Spock and Bones once more embark upon new adventures. A perfectly…