We’re Fucked, Pt. 69: AI-generated images

In case you don’t know already, some internet service out there allows you to pay so you can send prompts to a high-end neural network that runs on some supercomputer, and that AI will spit back fantastic images of whatever crossed your mind. Ain’t that grand? Anyway, I fed it prompts related to chapter 69 of my ongoing novel, and as usual the neural network produced some winners. In addition, I took advantage of a beta upgrade of the AI that seems stronger, if maybe less creative.

These came out as I was trying to depict our good ol’ compulsive self-diddler’s look for that day. I’m particularly happy with the last one.
The French queen’s look for the day.
Our main couple’s sudden daughter.
The AI produced these two images when I was getting it to spit stuff related to the Ice Age girl. The images aren’t particularly relevant, but they are good.
These are related to Leire seeing herself as the human equivalent of a raccoon.
Lots of pastries, which may be related to the current chapter.
Saliva flooding someone’s mouth.
“The sugar will make me forget about my otherworldly stalkers.”
“I’m a failed genetic experiment that should have been thrown in the garbage.”
The prompt was “gorge ourselves on a cake of toxic sludge.” The AI was particularly good at this concept, so I kept asking it for variations.
The AI’s curious attempts at depicting the barista.
“Please, don’t mention bunnies in my presence.”
“An ancient woman whose wrinkled skin is stained with liver spots.”
So many crayons.
Intriguing cave paintings. But why are the Paleolithic children wearing modern clothes?
“Her cherubic cheeks disturb my heart.”
“An indifferent humanoid programmed to erase me from history.”
The beanie-wearing lowlife.
A woman and pomegranates.
“Jacqueline is an exquisite piece of art that should have been painted by Leonardo da Vinci.”
“I’m an unmade bed with a dirty quilt and a crusted-up blanket, my sheets tattered by two decades of restless sleep and smelly ejaculate.”
The AI’s notion of crayons having been pushed through a guy’s face.
That was the neural network trying to depict the prompt: “an oily thread of equine saliva would descend from the heavens, and its beady end would morph into a thumbs up.” I can’t blame it for failing.
That’s supposed to depict a bullet hole in a windbreaker.
“A cosmic judge sent from the distant past to bring the gavel down on my foul deeds.”
This is how Leire imagines the state of her previous apartment to which she refuses to return.
Piles of unwrapped board games.
These are my attempts at trying to figure out how Leire would draw herself.
“Round eyes like those of a slow loris, the well-mouths into an inner chasm.”
“A beastly mane that matches my unkempt mind.”
“The Lonely Loon, Queen of Monsters.”
Mouth filled with hot steam.
I used the beta upgrade of the AI to depict the woman from Leire’s daydream in the previous chapter. Much better.
I used the beta upgrade of the neural network to depict Leire’s general state of mind. The funny thing is that the owners of this service want to keep everything PG-13, so it’s not supposed to depict tits. Obviously, I think that’s ridiculous, but in any case I’m glad that the beta version hasn’t been neutered to that extent yet.

One thought on “We’re Fucked, Pt. 69: AI-generated images

  1. Pingback: We’re Fucked, Pt. 69 (Fiction) – The Domains of the Emperor Owl

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