I spent a whole week working on chapter 74. This neural network spits out masterpieces in about thirty seconds. But our brains were cobbled together by evolution; nobody would design them the way they work. We should be grateful that we can walk and talk at the same time.
The following images are related to chapter 74 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.
These images were supposed to depict the area where the story takes place, particularly the main city, apparently now called “Donxostik.”
“A ghost escapes from my mouth in a cloud that glows citrine-yellow in the light of the streetlamps.”
“A boundary wall that the Ice Age civilization that built the pyramids would point at and mock.” They all look pretty good to me.
“I could step in front of the death machine and let its wheels run over me like a hulking lawnmower.”
“My mind was too weak to dig me out of the ice-cold soil where it had buried us.”
“Away from the wastoids and their shrieks.”
“When the sea levels rise again, our island of peace will protrude from the crimson tide.”
“A growing headache and my exhaustion have coalesced into a grimy mesh of spiderwebs inside my skull.”
“My heart must be pumping liquid sugar.”
“Jacqueline wastes her limited time on Earth working as a secretary for a pig.”
These came out as I was requesting references for the child’s ruined sweater, that had gotten stained with hot chocolate in a previous chapter.
The first one of these last three was generated as part of the previous sequence, and I asked for more because they looked cute.
“Mommy always seems ready to turn towards an ambushing paparazzi and flash a radiant smile that would burn out the camera’s electronic components.”
“Her facial features were designed by a team devoted to rendering the loveliest mommy face.”
The prompt for these ones was, “varnished human shape covered in spiders.”
“Isolated clusters of lit pixels reveal the presence of those who could afford to live on the slope of the mountain.”
“Flaming tar barrels rolling down towards invading hordes.”
My attempts at getting the AI to understand how the path looks like.
“The surroundings smell of moist bark, soil, moldy leaves.”
Cats having a good ol’ time out in the snow.
“I would have already run into traffic with my hands on my ears, attempting to outrun the pain.”
A jogger and his dog.
“I hope that she’s interested in the dog instead of in the guy’s ass.”
“I’m blowing a stream of vapour.”
The AI’s attempts at depicting the belfries.
“I glimpse a lumbering black mass stalking the tree line.”
“I should be able to punch a few holes through the chest of a sasquatch before it manages to control my mind.”
The sasquatch goddess twisting her mad weavings over the world.
“There’s an angry, feral god locked inside my skull.”
“The glowing yellow eyes of a sasquatch are peering from behind a bough.”
“Sasquatches are hiding in the trees, behind bushes, beneath piles of leaves, waiting to pounce on us and tear us apart.”
A sasquatch in disguise.
Actual sasquatches in disguise?
“A streetlamp is backlighting her head, bringing out loose hairs, but her cobalt-blues are gleaming.”
“She’s eating me alive with her intense gaze, filling my veins with hormones, kindling something ferocious and primordial within my being.”
“The devolved ghouls freebase sugar sprinkled on piles of skulls.”
The Domains of the Emperor Owl 
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