By John Wayne on Monday, 27 October 2025
Category: Race, Culture, Nation

AI's Garbage Gala: Where Hallucinations Are the Guest List, and Nobody Notices the Smell, By Brian Simpson

Ah, the sweet symphony of progress: James Howard Kunstler laments AI's "ensh*tification" of reality, quoting the Singularity Hub's grim prophecy that business incentives are pumping hallucinations like cheap steroids. And then, as if scripted by a bad sci-fi writer, along comes Robby Starbuck, the conservative crusader against corporate wokeness, to prove the point. He sues Google because their Bard AI (RIP, now Gemini's evil twin) didn't just hallucinate a parking ticket, it conjured a full-blown criminal rap sheet: child rapist, serial abuser, Epstein flight-log VIP, KKK cheerleader, and oh yeah, a toddler "shooter" in a 1991 murder case (Starbuck was two at the time). Google's response? "Hallucinations happen, bro, we fixed it in 2023." Starbuck's on podcast demoing the madness, querying live as Bard spins fake Newsweek headlines and phantom Salon exposés like a drunk storyteller at last call. Garbage in, garbage out? More like garbage inception: AI feeding on its own digital diarrhea until the output's a toxic slurry of slander.

But here's the satirical kicker, the real punchline in Kunstler's cosmic comedy: How few care. In a world where millions scroll past "men can get pregnant" memes without blinking, Starbuck's lawsuit is just another Tuesday tweetstorm. Breitbart buzzes, X erupts with 10 fresh posts in 48 hours decrying the "horror show," but the broader herd? Yawns. It's like alerting a room full of vegans to a steak shortage, they're too busy virtue-signalling their oat milk lattes to notice the slaughterhouse next door. Why sweat one guy's fabricated felony when your feed's serving up personalised porn bots and robotaxis that lose money faster than a Vegas slot addict? Welcome to the Garbage Gala, where hallucinations are the hors d'oeuvres, and apathy's the after-dinner mint.

The Infinite Loop of Lunacy: Garbage In, Galaxy-Brained Out

Picture AI as that kid at school who copies homework from the class clown, then "improves" it by adding fart jokes, only to get photocopied and plagiarised by the whole playground. Kunstler's spot-on: ChatGPT, Gemini, Meta's woke whisperer, they're all slurping the internet's slop, then regurgitating it into an echo chamber of ever-escalating nonsense. Starbuck's saga? Exhibit A. Bard doesn't just fib; it fabricates an alternate universe where he's not just a DEI-buster but a one-man crime wave, complete with bogus URLs like "Robby Starbuck Responds to Murder Accusations" from a Rolling Stone that never rolled. Google shrugs: "Well-known LLM issue." Translation: Our trash-compactor of truth is on autopilot, folks, enjoy the ride!

Satirically speaking, it's peak 2025: AI's "lost the I," as Kunstler quips, morphing from intelligent assistant to insane asylum inmate, babbling biases baked in by its Big Tech overlords. Woke-max training means it'll call you a fascist for liking pineapple on pizza, then back it up with citations from the Journal of Imaginary Studies. And the GIGO factor? Gloriously grotesque. Feed it recursive garbage, second-hand slop from prior hallucinations, and out pops a feedback loop funnier than a clown car pileup. Starbuck's suit demands $15 million because, hey, if Bard's scripting his biopic as American Psycho: The Prequel, someone's got to pay for the therapy. But in the grand farce, it's not even the main act, it's the warm-up band nobody remembers.

The Apathy Apocalypse: Who Cares When Cat Videos Cure All?

Now, the real satire stings here: Amid this digital deluge of delusion, how few give a damn. X lights up with a measly dozen posts since October 22, outraged conservatives sharing Breitbart links like digital pamphlets at a protest nobody attends. One user's warning about AI-forged evidence tying into digital IDs gets... crickets, save for a retweet or two. The masses? Buried in TikTok scrolls, where a hallucinating filter turning your dog into a unicorn trumps tales of tech terror. Kunstler's metaphysical moan, that we're chasing virtual nothing for authentic zilch, lands flat because, let's face it, who'd rather debug reality when dopamine's on demand?

It's hilariously human: We've got zillions poured into AI porn dolls and robotaxis that haemorrhage cash like a bad sequel, yet Starbuck's "child rapist" remix barely blips the radar. Why? Apathy's the ultimate algorithm, optimised for outrage over oopsies, but only if it fits the tribe. Liberals? "Hallucinations are a feature, not a bug — equity in errors!" Conservatives? "See? Big Tech's out to get us!" Everyone else? Swiping Left on sanity, too busy with guaranteed basic income fantasies to notice the emperor's not just naked, he's got a fake tattoo saying "Paedo of the Year."

In this farce, few care because caring's costly. Admit AI's a garbage ouroboros chomping its tail into oblivion, and poof, there goes your NVIDIA stock spike, your ChatGPT side hustle, your illusion of infinite info. Better to nod along, let the ensh*tification simmer, and pretend the grid won't glitch when Bard's tasked with flipping the switch. Starbuck's fight? A lone comedian heckling a hurricane, brave, but the crowd's already left for the afterparty.

The Punchline: Reality's RSVP Is Revoked

Kunstler's quest for something-for-nothing ends in nada, and AI's GIGO gala is the perfect punchline: A tech tower of Babel built on bias and baloney, where hallucinations aren't bugs, they're the business model. Starbuck's suit might snag a settlement (Meta already coughed up an apology), but the satire's eternal: In a world hooked on simulated slop, who needs truth when trash tastes just fine? Few care because the garbage is gilded, shiny enough to scroll past the stink.

So, next time Bard brands you a Bond villain, laugh it off. Or sue. Either way, reality's waiting in the wings, popcorn in hand, for the inevitable encore: When the virtual veil rips, and we're left with... well, nothing.

https://www.zerohedge.com/ai/reality-vs-garbage-has-ai-already-lost-i-part 

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