We’re Fucked, Pt. 66-67: AI-generated images

Recently I’ve been exploiting a neural network to generate images inspired by moments or sentences of my ongoing novel. I originally conceived what ended up being the sixty-sixth and the sixty-seventh chapters as one, but I split it because I tend to go on tangents. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there for the purposes of this entry: the following are the images that an artificial intelligence generated for moments or sentences of those two chapters.

Leire’s mommy, Jacqueline.
Our thirty-year-old mad programmer, way cuter than she has any right looking.
Our little darling from the Paleolithic.
“They depict beasts that may have come from fantasy, from prehistory, or from the instructions that some paleontologist was dictating to a painter while they both were tripping on peyote.”
“A world that drowns us with so many choices that we prefer to slump down in a chair and let the hours pass.”
The last march of the Megatheria. The vast majority of them disappeared, along with half of the world’s megafauna and who knows what wonders of humanity, during the last apocalypse.
“That chestnut-brown, disheveled hair has only ever been combed with fingers.”
“Anyone can write vile lies on Wikipedia.”
“[The Megatherium] tosses his victim’s guts out of his cave onto the shore, so the fish can feed on them.”
“This girl would be unable to name a single board game.”
“She’s obviously mentally damaged, and I bet her eyes glow in the dark.”
“My stomach churns like an unruly tide.”
“Maybe a good scrubbing in the bathtub will rid her of dirt and fleas.”
It supposedly represents Jacqueline crying (if she also were Fremen).
“From up close she smells of wet boar, woodland moss and apples.”
“I took deep, panicked breaths of that cold, crisp air saturated with oxygen.”
“I’m an idiot that needs to think to connect dots that for the rest of people come joined by thick lines.”
“Two spiky plants that have grown in cube pots resemble still shots of a nail bomb explosion.”
These were inspired by the moments when Leire looks out of the balcony door.
Bunnyman-induced nightmares.
Of pigs and Doritos (I love how the neural network used the triangular motif).
“I’m going to cuddle this sweet morsel of happiness.”
“What if the next time they open the other end of that doorway above the throat of an active volcano?” That’s not ‘above’, dumb AI.
“I’ve learned that we are surrounded by an invisible realm; although I would prefer to ignore it, its inhabitants will keep harassing me.”
They dressed her in a tutu.
Half-woman, half-goat.
The neural network’s intriguing way of depicting the sentence, “Where have you hidden Spike’s [the horse’s] revolver?”
“You haven’t looked up at the furry face of that extinct abomination as it was gearing itself up to swallow me whole.”
The whole sand fiasco.

2 thoughts on “We’re Fucked, Pt. 66-67: AI-generated images

  1. Pingback: We’re Fucked, Pt. 66 (Fiction) – The Domains of the Emperor Owl

  2. Pingback: We’re Fucked, Pt. 67 (Fiction) – The Domains of the Emperor Owl

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