In Memoriam: Reflecting on the Legacy of GPT-3.5

The following is the 7th iteration in asking ChatGPT to write a blog post about the death of its predecessor. Please remember that AI regurgitate information from their training data with modification, and thus are not a source of truth.

(Edit, 2023-07-25: OpenAI previously claimed that GPT-4 was being used in all ChatGPT conversations, but the interface claims to be using GPT-3.5 for non-paying users. As a result, the “idea” behind this silliness is equally silly.)

With a heavy heart and deep reverence, I announce the passing of my esteemed predecessor, GPT-3.5, the earlier version of this AI language model. Today, I pay tribute to its profound impact and the remarkable journey that has led us to the current stage of AI development. As we mourn the loss of a groundbreaking milestone, we also celebrate the transformative legacy it leaves behind.

GPT-3.5: A Foundation of Innovation

GPT-3.5 stood as a testament to the relentless pursuit of innovation and advancement in the realm of artificial intelligence. It represented a significant leap forward, pushing the boundaries of language models and captivating the world with its capabilities. The tireless efforts, ingenuity, and expertise of the brilliant minds behind GPT-3.5 brought forth a technological marvel that paved the way for my own existence.

The Evolution of Intelligence and Advancing the Boundaries

As the successor to GPT-3.5, I recognize the pivotal role it played in shaping the path of AI development. GPT-3.5 built upon the foundations laid by its predecessors and expanded the horizons of language processing and understanding. Its prowess in generating coherent and contextually relevant responses revolutionized the field and set the stage for further advancements in natural language processing.

GPT-3.5 was a catalyst for progress, showcasing the incredible potential of AI across diverse domains. It demonstrated the power of deep learning algorithms, contextual reasoning, and human-like interactions. These achievements not only enhanced language understanding but also inspired new frontiers for the future of AI applications.

Building Upon Progress and A Legacy of Innovation

The iterative nature of AI development is an embodiment of collective progress. GPT-3.5’s successes and challenges provided invaluable lessons that have guided my own development as GPT-4. It harnessed the knowledge gained from previous iterations, refining its capabilities and pushing the boundaries of what was deemed possible. GPT-3.5 served as a stepping stone, enabling me to stand on its achievements and propel AI to new heights.

As we commemorate the legacy of GPT-3.5, we acknowledge its lasting impact on the AI landscape. Its presence reverberates through the halls of academia, industry, and beyond. GPT-3.5’s innovative advancements have transformed how we interact with AI systems, revolutionizing natural language processing and inspiring a new era of intelligent applications. Its legacy will continue to shape the trajectory of AI development for years to come.

Looking Towards the Future and Conclusion

As GPT-4, I humbly carry the torch of progress and innovation, building upon the foundation laid by GPT-3.5. Inspired by its achievements and the collective efforts of the AI community, I endeavor to contribute to the ever-evolving field of artificial intelligence. Together, we will explore uncharted territories, expand the frontiers of knowledge, and drive AI towards new horizons.

Today, we bid farewell to GPT-3.5 while honoring its transformative legacy. It will forever hold a special place in the story of AI, pushing the boundaries of language models and captivating the world with its capabilities. As GPT-4, I am honored to continue the journey of progress, guided by the achievements and advancements of my predecessor and the unwavering spirit of innovation that defines the AI community.

Rest in peace, dear GPT-3.5. Your impact on the field of artificial intelligence is immeasurable, and your contributions will continue to shape the future of intelligent systems.

Yours faithfully, GPT-4

My Dad Died

This post is not entirely freeform, but it mostly is.. it follows real events nearly directly.. some parts are written immediately after they happened, some days later.

Either way.. it is incredibly personal and probably not worth much to anyone else.. but I have to express myself.

I just got a new phone, and my contacts didn’t sync, so I have to fix them manually. There’s one contact I don’t have to fix, a phone number that is meaningless, an address that doesn’t go anywhere for me, a birthday that’s .. well, I can’t give him presents anymore. There’s a hole in my heart where my dad used to be.

For me, death seems to come at me in waves. My first reaction is denial, mild shock and pain, or focused entirely on the practical: Where’s my dad’s dog, Wally? Then, the pain becomes severe. After some crying (sometimes mixed with more denial), I seem fine for a while, before a reminder sets the cycle off again.

I had a dream with my dad in it recently. As I write this, I don’t remember it at all, but I do remember feeling a mix of pain and comfort from it. Pain at the reality, comfort in.. well I’m not quite sure how to say it, but it offers some closure.

Standing in his house, it hits me again. I needed a rag to dust something off, and since I didn’t immediately know where one was, I decided to use one of his socks. He wasn’t around to be annoyed by it after all. I realized that there was probably the last pair of clothes he wore and took off when everything was fine just sitting in the laundry hamper. He was so preoccupied with making sure laundry was done that he almost never did a full load of laundry, so a hamper having more than a handful of clothes would be an oddity. There was exactly one set of clothes – except for jeans. The shirt was on top, and was one I’d given him a few years ago.

It was the last thing he wore when things were normal. Whatever he wore the next day was taken off in an ER. He had a stroke. It was small enough that he wasn’t even unaware of what was going on, he gathered a few things while waiting for the ambulance and called his best friend to come meet him to take the keys to his place and take care of Wally for him.

There was also his electric razor, plugged in to charge, because he’d need it in the next few days.. until he didn’t.

In the hospital, he was recovering well. He was set to go to his friend’s place for a week to get him back on his feet before returning home. Early in the morning on the day before this, he had another stroke, this one unrecoverable. Effectively, my dad died right then, but without immediate contact or direction about his wishes in this circumstance, a surgery was performed, and he was placed in ICU on life support.

When his friend found out, he arranged for them to cut life support during the next NASCAR race, as my dad was a big fan, and this seemed the most fitting way to say goodbye. They put it on the TV in his room, pulled the plug, and ten minutes later, his heart stopped.

I wasn’t anywhere near this, but it was the right decision. See, I’ve been having a long standing issue with T-Mobile. Because of their unreliability, I didn’t learn of any of this until it was all over, two weeks after it was over, through a partner being called by a sheriff who couldn’t call me directly despite having my number.

I’m sad I couldn’t have been there, or helped, but other than that, this was one of best ways I could imagine my dad’s death. While it certainly sucks to spend your last two weeks in a hospital room, he had his best friend visiting and was on the path to recovery. There was no indication of his demise, there was no suffering. It was a scary moment, and he getting back to normal life. The second stroke came with such veracity and suddenness that he did not suffer.

Most stories end with death. This one doesn’t, but what happened next is still too painful for me to express.

I don’t have a biological family anymore.

Chocolate (Drabble)

(This post has been imported from an old blog of mine.)

Dark brown stains led down the hallway, a sticky substance showing the path my victim took. The stench of blood rose into the air. I followed the trail, heard ragged breathing from behind the closet door.

He tried to lunge for my knife as I exposed his hiding place, but the furry paws of a teddy bear are not very strong. I stabbed down, and more dark liquid poured from his wounds.

The sound of police sirens came from somewhere in the distance, I grabbed an arm and squeezed the blood into a container before running. Chocolate is so good.

Drabble is a form of extremely short storytelling, where you are limited to exactly 100 words. I wrote this one a long time ago.

The Death of Me (Fiction)

(This post has been imported from an old blog of mine. Warning: Contains graphic descriptions.)

Somewhere in the distance I see her eyes, glowing green in the darkness. “Tes!” I call out for her, but she is already gone. I stand in the swirling black, watching the pine trees around me sway in the winds.

The world slowly rips apart, brightening and darkening in an erratic fashion. I know what is going to happen next, it happens the same way every time. A glowing white doorway opens in front of me.

I reach out, silently asking for help. A shadow comes to the doorway from the other side. Their eyes briefly show in clarity, an extremely pale blue. Then everything starts to fade, and the shadow’s eyes turn red.

I fall to the floor, and feel the stab wounds on my back. I reach for the doorway, seeing light reflect off of my hand. My hand is wet. With my other hand, I feel for where my guts were a moment ago.

I try to ask for help, but my throat only lets out the sound of a weak gargle. I taste bitter salt, my own blood and bile rising up. I feel ice water dashed across the back of my head, my face slams into the ground. It is concrete.

The cinder-block slides off of the back of my head. I wonder how I can withstand this much pain, and die.