Bill Textworth is a pirate of disreputable renown who has spent many years plundering and pillaging (but nothing more naughty than that) on the highest seas, where he gained his terrible notoriety.
OK, his real name is David Higham, a frustrated scribbler of poem and novel, possibly just 12 years old, but is now stuck in the body of a 72 year old. But he does own a nice model of a ship. Sad, but true.
His delusions of piracy have no relevance to this book whatsoever.
He never uses Artificial Intelligence in his writing, as without a soul it lacks inspiration and the ability to be creative. He has used it as a medium for artwork, however, mainly because his own drawing and musical abilities are so very poor. Nevertheless, it has taken thousands (literally) of attempts to create images and tunes that sort of resemble his ideas. And his computer is very slow.
Despite the benefit of using A.I. in a limited way, he is suspicious of the impact of this development in mankind's future. It blends in so well as another tool which can be used to present ideas as if they were facts, to prop up the caricature of truths which seem to be at the core of control behind every government, media and global organisation.
Some people will accept every answer that an A.I. gives to their enquiry, without understanding that it has been programmed to interpret the intention of it's ultimate programmer. Whoever or whatever that might be.
In other words, we believe whatever we are told, until we understand that none of it is true.
An artificial sort of intelligence, you might say.
Email address: frustratedscribbler@proton.me
