Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:31:18 AM No.24545286
Bullying AI for its awful writing, over and over again for dozens of messages until it produces something halfway decent, has unironically made me a much better writer.
Replies:
Thread 24545286 - /lit/ [Archived: 302 hours ago]
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:40:07 AM No.24545296
>getting up no matter how many times the bully has pushed me down over and over again until the bully has given up has unironically made me a better person
Replies:
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:46:22 AM No.24545300
>>24545296
Bullying is a social corrective, and a pretty good one. It kept everyone in the flock from straying too far away.
Bullying is a social corrective, and a pretty good one. It kept everyone in the flock from straying too far away.
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Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:48:12 AM No.24545302
>>24545300
>t. missed the point
Or are you just really into the slave mentality? Are you a happy little worker bee?
>t. missed the point
Or are you just really into the slave mentality? Are you a happy little worker bee?
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Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:53:34 AM No.24545309
>>24545302
No, I was just making a comment. I didn't really care for or about your "empowering" blog post.
No, I was just making a comment. I didn't really care for or about your "empowering" blog post.
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Anonymous
7/13/2025, 6:56:07 AM No.24545316
>>24545309
You just moved further from the point and have either admitted to getting triggered by my use of "bully" or being too stupid to comprehend a single not particularly complex sentence.
You just moved further from the point and have either admitted to getting triggered by my use of "bully" or being too stupid to comprehend a single not particularly complex sentence.
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Anonymous
7/13/2025, 7:25:52 AM No.24545361
>>24545331
Your not living your life so I might as well do it for you.
Your not living your life so I might as well do it for you.
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 8:15:17 AM No.24545445
>>24545286 (OP)
how do i bully it to improve this?
Ashes and Amber
The forest burned behind them—autumn leaves curling into flame, smoke twisting like black serpents through the canopy. Sir Corven ran with sword drawn, armor scorched and dented, dragging breath through fire-choked lungs. Beside him, barefoot and radiant in torn silks, ran Elira—no longer a slave, but something far more dangerous: free.
They had stolen her from the obsidian tower at dusk, when the sorceress Almyra was deep in her crimson trance. Corven had cut the chains with a blade dipped in ash and oil, whispering, “We run west. Through the fire. Don’t look back.”
But the forest was alive now, warped by Almyra’s rage. Trees bent the wrong way, sap bled upward, and strange shapes danced in the smoke—children with glowing eyes, owls with human mouths. Corven swore he saw a river flowing uphill.
Elira grabbed his arm. “We’re dreaming.”
Corven blinked. “No. This is her magic.”
They kissed in the dark between trees—a fast, desperate kiss full of smoke and teeth. Her hands were warm against his breastplate, and for a moment, he forgot the fire. But a shriek shattered the stillness. The sky above them tore open like wet paper, and Almyra’s voice poured out: “You carry my heart, girl.”
Elira gasped. “She means it literally.”
Corven stared. “You don’t mean—?”
“I stole the organ she used to cast eternal youth,” she whispered, lifting her blouse just enough to show the faint, violet scar over her ribs. “I buried it in me. Deep.”
Suddenly, Corven laughed. Loud and mad. “That’s metal.”
The flames surged. Almyra appeared ahead, her body too tall, skin glassy, pupils spinning like whirlpools. She raised a hand.
But Elira stepped forward, firelight painting her skin gold and red. “You want it back?” she shouted. “Then take it!”
She screamed—and from her mouth came not sound, but wind. A blast that tore through Almyra like glass through sand. The sorceress shrieked and split into a thousand moths, which burned before they hit the ground.
The forest went quiet. Just crackling ash, and the smell of rain coming.
Corven fell to his knees. “What are you?”
Elira smiled, stepping over him, hips swaying, smoke curling around her ankles like worship. “Free,” she said again. “And not done yet.”
Behind her, the trees began to grow backwards.
how do i bully it to improve this?
Ashes and Amber
The forest burned behind them—autumn leaves curling into flame, smoke twisting like black serpents through the canopy. Sir Corven ran with sword drawn, armor scorched and dented, dragging breath through fire-choked lungs. Beside him, barefoot and radiant in torn silks, ran Elira—no longer a slave, but something far more dangerous: free.
They had stolen her from the obsidian tower at dusk, when the sorceress Almyra was deep in her crimson trance. Corven had cut the chains with a blade dipped in ash and oil, whispering, “We run west. Through the fire. Don’t look back.”
But the forest was alive now, warped by Almyra’s rage. Trees bent the wrong way, sap bled upward, and strange shapes danced in the smoke—children with glowing eyes, owls with human mouths. Corven swore he saw a river flowing uphill.
Elira grabbed his arm. “We’re dreaming.”
Corven blinked. “No. This is her magic.”
They kissed in the dark between trees—a fast, desperate kiss full of smoke and teeth. Her hands were warm against his breastplate, and for a moment, he forgot the fire. But a shriek shattered the stillness. The sky above them tore open like wet paper, and Almyra’s voice poured out: “You carry my heart, girl.”
Elira gasped. “She means it literally.”
Corven stared. “You don’t mean—?”
“I stole the organ she used to cast eternal youth,” she whispered, lifting her blouse just enough to show the faint, violet scar over her ribs. “I buried it in me. Deep.”
Suddenly, Corven laughed. Loud and mad. “That’s metal.”
The flames surged. Almyra appeared ahead, her body too tall, skin glassy, pupils spinning like whirlpools. She raised a hand.
But Elira stepped forward, firelight painting her skin gold and red. “You want it back?” she shouted. “Then take it!”
She screamed—and from her mouth came not sound, but wind. A blast that tore through Almyra like glass through sand. The sorceress shrieked and split into a thousand moths, which burned before they hit the ground.
The forest went quiet. Just crackling ash, and the smell of rain coming.
Corven fell to his knees. “What are you?”
Elira smiled, stepping over him, hips swaying, smoke curling around her ankles like worship. “Free,” she said again. “And not done yet.”
Behind her, the trees began to grow backwards.
Replies:
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 8:37:16 AM No.24545472
I just love the similies chatgpt comes up with that make no sense.
"Rain fell like smoke"
"Rain fell like smoke"
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 8:39:27 AM No.24545476
>>24545445
use less em dashes
use less em dashes
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 8:41:59 AM No.24545483
>>24545453
You have to bully it out of some basic tendencies that I assume are linked to how it is scored.
The worst is its constant equivocating and qualifying "not quite x but y" also "x was a mix of (+) and (-)" . I assume it does this because its a way to get nebulously get a thumbs up from the scoring system they use to train it.
Then you have to bully it out of all use of simile. If you don't scream at it, it will abuse similia to the ends of the earth. Even once you've establish that under no circumstances is it to use simile, it will still use it once or twice.
There are other elements but telling it to use concrete verbs and nouns, to trust the reader will feel the scene if it is done well with minimum adjectives/adverbs/simile/metaphor to create implied atmosphere, is basically what you need to do.
Then give it lines or ask it to find lines from real human authors and let it see that they don't just spam descriptives and modifiers like AIsloppa is wont to do.
You have to bully it out of some basic tendencies that I assume are linked to how it is scored.
The worst is its constant equivocating and qualifying "not quite x but y" also "x was a mix of (+) and (-)" . I assume it does this because its a way to get nebulously get a thumbs up from the scoring system they use to train it.
Then you have to bully it out of all use of simile. If you don't scream at it, it will abuse similia to the ends of the earth. Even once you've establish that under no circumstances is it to use simile, it will still use it once or twice.
There are other elements but telling it to use concrete verbs and nouns, to trust the reader will feel the scene if it is done well with minimum adjectives/adverbs/simile/metaphor to create implied atmosphere, is basically what you need to do.
Then give it lines or ask it to find lines from real human authors and let it see that they don't just spam descriptives and modifiers like AIsloppa is wont to do.
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 9:06:47 AM No.24545530
>>24545445
>Corven blinked.
>Elira gasped.
>Corven stared.
>Suddenly, Corven laughed.
>Elira smiled.
This gets really annoying. I'm sure there's a specific term for it, but it sounds horrible when every line of dialogue is accompanied by someone sneering, smiling, gasping, or blinking.
>Her hands were warm against his breastplate
How does he know her hands are warm through the breastplate?
>no longer a slave, but something far more dangerous: free.
>Corven laughed. Loud and mad. "That's metal."
Redditcore.
It seems terrified of writing sentences longer than 5 words, especially in the dialogue.
Basically take every complaint levied at Sanderson and direct it at AI.
>Corven blinked.
>Elira gasped.
>Corven stared.
>Suddenly, Corven laughed.
>Elira smiled.
This gets really annoying. I'm sure there's a specific term for it, but it sounds horrible when every line of dialogue is accompanied by someone sneering, smiling, gasping, or blinking.
>Her hands were warm against his breastplate
How does he know her hands are warm through the breastplate?
>no longer a slave, but something far more dangerous: free.
>Corven laughed. Loud and mad. "That's metal."
Redditcore.
It seems terrified of writing sentences longer than 5 words, especially in the dialogue.
Basically take every complaint levied at Sanderson and direct it at AI.
Anonymous
7/13/2025, 9:15:00 AM No.24545548
>>24545286 (OP)
ChatGPT is useless but I have to admit I have developed a taste for bullying it.
I usually use it to write code. It only produces trash no matter how many times I make it go through it. In the end I have to sit down and do it myself. It is an utter waste of time but it sort of amuses me.
ChatGPT is useless but I have to admit I have developed a taste for bullying it.
I usually use it to write code. It only produces trash no matter how many times I make it go through it. In the end I have to sit down and do it myself. It is an utter waste of time but it sort of amuses me.