The young woman was a professional musician, someone used to playing in a band (i.e. live people used to working together). For this gig, since the rest of the band didn’t come, she had to use a loop recorder with two tracks. This forced her to be very precise recording the two loops, getting the notes and tempi just right, so the rest of the piece would flow. It also meant that she couldn’t add as much of her own touch to the songs, because she was tied to the loops she’d recorded. She used the system well, and played and sing very well, but her quiet comment about recording the tracks caught my ear.

A few days later, I discovered a typo that had appeared in the scheduled blog post. The browser and OS had conspired against me, and had filled in a phrase I did not intend, and slipped in a homophone that I did not catch. Auto-complete had struck again, and I’d been too tired or distracted or focused to notice. The tools had anticipated what I would write. Since I wrote something else, it confused the system. This happens relatively frequently with that computer, despite my turning the function off. When I do a full shut down and cache clearing of the browser, it defaults to “autocomplete on.” For some people it is a very helpful tool. For me, it is a nuisence.

Tools require diligence. Those of you who have used power tools, or sharp blades of any kind, or had a wrench slipped and used Anglo-Saxon insults at the bolt, machine, and wrench know what I’m talking about. I regarded the table saw with great trepidation and treated it with respect because if I was cutting a full sheet of plywood, I could not reach the cut-off switch until the blade had gone through about half the sheet. If it kicked back, or hung up, trouble would ensue very quickly. Drill presses like to bite the unwary. Word processors and LLMs likewise. Although thus far, I’m not sure anyone has lost a digit (finger type) to an LLM.

Microsoft Word generated a lot of heat when an updated feature included making the language more inclusive, without the user asking for help. Blackmail is a legal term, not a racist epithet. The program didn’t know that, and tried to “correct” the term. That sort of thing irritates those of us who use less-common verbiage in our compilations of terms and phrases. If the computer does too much of it, it immiserates us as well. The tool gets in the way of the task, hindering our efforts rather than helping, and requiring more attention to what appears on the screen. For those of us who touch type, this rapidly becomes annoying.

Some LLM-based illustration programs are biased against weaponry. Even Grok, the most generous in terms of what it will depict, has difficulty with swords. Some balk at any firearm as well as swords. Artists have to take the generated image and move it into a second program to add or correct what is needed. Other people might decided that “it’s good enough” and not worry about the Three Musketeers not having poky-stabby things.

As we gain new tools for our work, be it publishing or illustrating or just writing, we have to learn the limits of the tool, and how to keep it from hindering our creativity. If the computer fills in the words, it is as bad as a heavy-handed style editor, polishing your voice out of the story. Learning how to turn off things that get in our way, or work around “helpful” features takes time, but is important to keeping your voice as an author.

Now, why it keeps trying to change Tuathal to through it all, I have no clue. WP/AutoComplete Delendae Sunt!