It’s been a bad week for artificial intelligence. Or rather, for the people foisting it on us. Or rather, for Jensen Huang, the CEO of Nvidia, who resigned ahead of dismissal on Thursday, after he stood revealed as a horny dude who slept first with a direct-report employee and, far more concerning, a Chinese spy.

And these are the masters of our universe — guys who can be tripped up by honey pots.

Of course, virtually every guy can be tripped up by a honey pot, but when one guy, one highly imperfect guy, holds the key to a huge portion of the stock market’s value, a developing and transformative force in the economy, this seems unwise, no?

It’s easy, if you’re just one person, to feel like AI is something that can’t be stopped, or even slowed down, so we might take a moment to consider its implications before rushing ahead. Speaking just for myself, I’m very tired of hearing that AI will one day cure cancer. So far, it has destroyed customer service; let’s see the hands of anyone who’d like to return to the halcyon days of our calls being answered by people with heavy Indian accents calling themselves “Kobe” and “McKenzie,” as opposed to the implacable clankers who answer today. How often have you seen AI-generated misinformation presented as “news” that is increasingly difficult to detect? And let’s not forget the slop videos of, say, the president dumping shit on the heads of his own countrymen. Certainly, let’s not forget that.

The cure for cancer will come… someday, they promise us. Until then, slop, misinformation, job loss. Oh, and can’t forget ChatGPT, without which half the White House staff would not be able to do their jobs.

Excuse me if I’m not glowing with enthusiasm for this exciting technology.

In other news at this hour, I finally had my court hearing for the parking ticket Kate got on Labor Day. It did not go as planned, in which I laid out my evidence in implacable fashion and gained an immediate ruling in my favor. The judge was preoccupied with why I was handling this, when it’s Alan’s name on the title (and ticket). First of all, the cop actually showed up in court — for a parking ticket. We went back and forth on why Alan wasn’t there (“I’m handling this for the family, OK?”), and he paid little attention to me pointing out the ticket had the color of the car wrong, other than asking the cop if he was color blind. But in the end, he reduced the fine by 50 percent, so I only have to pay $100, not $200.

I haggled the law, and the law still won, but I got a discount.

Now we head into birthday weekend #1, i.e., the birthday twins. We’ve got some things planned. Then I have to write a freelance story, make an editor happy and start the Thanksgiving glide. I hope to be here, but I don’t know. Keep checking.