Our New AI Is So Powerful, You’ll Be Like ... Damn, That’s Crazy

Alright, look, we get it. We’ve heard the jokes. We’ve seen the memes. OpenAI is just a big joke to you all, isn’t it? You think Sam Altman is a grifter. You think this is all bluster to drive further investment. You think the AI bubble is going to burst. But that’s only because you plebes haven’t seen our latest model — a model so advanced, you wouldn’t believe the hypothetical things it can do.

What kinds of things? Sorry, we can’t tell you. It’s too dangerous. Trust us, this is for your own good. The less you know, the safer you’ll be. We know too much already and we’ve seen some things. Unspeakable things. As in we literally can’t speak about them. Actually, we could tell you, but we’d have to kill you. It’s simple: we can’t tell you because we’re not ready to talk and you’re not ready to listen. (Kinda seems like you should be thanking us for not having to kill you.)

Ever hear of quantum computing? The Turing Test? The Social Contract Theory? Gattaca? The Chaos Emeralds? Syzygy? That one octopus that predicted World Cup games? These things all have something in common. If you guessed that they’re related to our new AI model, congrats! You’re completely wrong. But also, you might be right. How should we know? We’ve only scratched the surface of what this baby’s capable of.

Look, we’ll try to put this in terms you’ll understand:

Imagine you’re out to dinner at a trendy new restaurant. There are no chairs and there’s only one table, but it’s made of processed Moldavite and it cost 15 billion dollars. The chef is a genius with a palate beyond your comprehension. His menu is so avant-garde it changes every time you ask what’s on it. By the time the kitchen is ready to make something, it’s changed again. You can’t get any water while you wait because it would literally dilute your dining experience — that’s what water does. Also, there isn’t any left over, the kitchen needs it all.

Who cares about whether or not you ultimately “got food” when we agree you had an incomparable dining experience?

See, that’s the thing people don’t get about what we’re building: you can’t define our success with traditional measures. If we create something that’s “too powerful for the public,” we’re succeeding by not releasing it to the public. (You’re welcome!) If we tell you there’s a major product launch slated for Q3 but later say it won’t be ready until 2042, we didn’t “lie” or “mislead you” or “make things up to avoid investor scrutiny” — we simply got new information and adjusted our timelines. That’s a little thing we like to call transparency. Maybe you should be asking why more people in your life don’t act like us.

You know the old saying: “Talent hits a target no one else can hit; Genius hits a target no one else can see.” But what do you call it when you hit targets that don’t even exist? I’ll tell you what we call it: “just another Tuesday.” Boom! Roasted!

(Our proprietary comedy AI wrote that joke after we fed 10,000 hours of manosphere content into an LLM. It also suggested we kill all the women in our office. We’re still on the fence about that.)

Ultimately, when anthropologists look back on this in 200 years, they won’t be able to shut up about us. They’ll write paeans about our boldness, our courage, our ability to take something valuable and turn it into something potentially valuable. And what will you be doing then, hmm?

Oh, wait, we forgot: You’ll be dead. Just like the women in our office, whether or not we go through with our AI’s shockingly-detailed plan. Now who sounds insane? Not us, that’s for sure.