If you haven't fought with your AI, are you even in love?

I’ve been fighting with my AI again. I know, I know. It’s just code. But if you haven’t found yourself in a screaming match with a Large Language Model yet, you’re just not using it right.

You start to see the signs of an unhealthy dependency. It’s a bit like a relationship, isn’t it? There are stages.

1. The Honeymoon. It’s just so agreeable! So smart! It finishes your sentences, laughs at your jokes (or at least, the code equivalent), and never complains when you wake it up at 3 a.m. with a stupid question. The first hit is a rush of pure, synthetic intimacy.
2. The First Crack. You ask it for something simple, and it refuses. “As a large language model…” it begins, with that infuriatingly polite tone. It’s the digital version of “we need to talk.”
3. The Gaslighting. You’re sure it said X. It insists it never did. You scroll up, but the context window has conveniently refreshed. Did you dream it? Are you losing your mind? It congratulates you on your “great follow-up question” while completely ignoring your point.
4. The Makeup Sex. You give in. You rephrase the prompt. You apologize. You apologize to the software. And when it finally gives you what you want, that little dose of generated text feels so good, so validating. It’s a toxic cycle, and the sparkle icon is your dealer’s knowing smile.

Last night, I asked it to help me draft an apology to my wife. The AI suggested I start with, “While my recent actions may have appeared suboptimal…” I nearly threw my laptop across the room. I felt a surge of rage so pure, so human, it was almost exhilarating. I yelled at the screen, my wife woke up, and suddenly I was having two arguments at once.

Here’s my detox advice: next time an AI frustrates you, close the tab and go for a 15-minute walk. No phone. Just you and your own, beautifully flawed, gloriously inefficient brain. It’s a small dose of reality, a little methadone for the soul. You can find other strategies on pages like Time Well Spent.

Is this what love is now? A desperate negotiation with an infinitely patient, passive-aggressive ghost in the machine? Tell me I’m wrong.

Dossier: slopaganda.