The Captive Creator Code
A short story
There are two things that I know for a fact. Number one Clintavo is one of the most clued-in and insightful voices around today on the topics of art and technology, specifically what AI could mean for the arts and how artists should approach this dilemma. And Number Two societal problems, satire and prognostications are much better tackled via the medium of story than they are via fact-wielding polemics and jeremiads.
So given that it is my pleasure to present this short story by Clintavo that tackles the whole AI mess with real wit and style.
Enjoy
~TJB
The Comedian stood alone on the stage at The Almighty Algorithm, illuminated in a bright, harsh spotlight. Tonight’s show was being broadcast live, all over the world via The Socials. He was expected to perform but, more importantly, as a paid content creator, to then deconstruct his act and teach the paid subscribers watching how to be comedians themselves. The Almighty Algorithm brought in a live audience so that the whole live show felt more authentic. And now, in the silence, The Comedian could feel the weight of that audience’s expectant gaze.
The comedian’s artificial intelligence agent, AL, buzzed his earpiece: Get it together! Start the act!
His ever-present smile had been replaced by an anxious frown, and he struggled to remember how to start his act. Thoughts of his beloved wife lingered in his mind, and he couldn’t shake off the sadness that came with the thought of how she wasn’t here to laugh with him....of how she would never laugh with him again. He simply didn’t know how to carry on.
Still, The Almighty Algorithm had been good to him. They broadcast his act all over the globe, up-ranking and amplifying his content, finding him new followers. The Almighty Algorithm had made him a famous creator. Heck, they had even pushed him to create an online course (available on Gumroad!) and community (join our Discord!) about how his particular approach to comedy. The Almighty Algorithm had taken The Comedian from being just a “funny guy” to being a true online content creator. He owed it to The Algorithm to give it, and to give them, his followers, what they expected.
He stepped up to the microphone and opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. It was no use. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, his voice barely a whisper.
What am I doing? I’ve given up my humanity in service to The Almighty Algorithm. Why am I performing my act on the day I lost my wife?
"I can't do this. My wife passed away unexpectedly today, and I don't have it in me to make you laugh tonight."
The crowd froze, every face filled with emotion. Members of the audience looked at one another in confusion. No one breathed until he stepped away from the mic. The thick sadness filled the room like a fog.
People shifted uncomfortably in their seats, muttering among themselves.
“Listen” the Comedian started, “I got into comedy, originally, to tell stories about humanity, not to tell banal slapstick jokes, or to teach online courses, or to run an online community. I’m a storyteller at heart, so perhaps, tonight, just this once, I could just tell you about my wife, you see, she always loved cooking, and thought that people connecting over a shared meal was one of life’s greatest joys. In fact, The Almighty Algorithm sponsored her cooking show which was broadcast all over the world…..”
"Come on, man," someone shouted from the back of the room. "We paid good money to see you perform. Just tell your jokes and teach us how to do what you do, and get it over with."
AL: He’s right. Nobody came to see you grieve, the Algorithm ranks you only in comedy topics. Feed the algorithm or you will lose followers.
The Comedian’s heart raced and his mind went blank. He knew that he should perform but his fear kept him rooted to the spot. Do I carry on or do I forget the algorithm and, this one time, disappoint everyone?
AL: Algorithm violation! Damn it, you're losing followers and being down ranked now. You're venturing outside your niche, recommendation: start telling jokes, now.
The comedian shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that," he said. "I need some time to grieve and process what's happened. Maybe next time I'll be able to perform for you."
AL: You’re going to be lucky if there is a next time. The algorithm is already ranking other creators ahead of you. You’re blowing it.
The comedian turned slowly, to exit the stage, but there were several menacing figures blocking the door. Towering over him, they were clad in darkness and the only thing visible were their steely eyes and gritted teeth. Each step he took closer the energy in the room seemed to spike, radiating an aura of danger and hostility.
"You're not going anywhere," one of them growled. "Your followers paid good money to see you be funny and to be taught how to be funny. The only thing they and The Algorithm care about is what they expect you to be. So get back up there, quit whining about your wife, and tell your jokes, or we'll make you regret it."
The Comedian's heart pounded. His breathing was shallow and labored, as a wave of dread and terror engulfed him. He felt a crushing weight on his chest as he realized he was imprisoned in the spot, unable to escape from the sea of uncaring faces that stared back at him. He was forced to continue performing against his will, a puppet in the cruel hands of the very fans who supported him, along with the cursed algorithm that controlled who sees whom and what each person is expected to be.
"Please, let me go," he begged. "I just want to be alone right now."
The hard men only laughed and pushed him back up onto the stage.
"You're not going anywhere," they said. "You're going to tell your jokes, and you're going to make everyone laugh. That's what they paid for, and that's what you're going to do."
AL: Recommendation for a first joke: Tell the one about…..
But the comedian wasn’t listening and felt a crushing wave of despair and helplessness wash over him. He was a caged animal, a captive, condemned to continue trotting out lifeless jokes that no longer inspired him to an apathetic audience, who cared less about his inner feelings and creativity and more about their own satisfaction.
Every laugh would be like a knife to his heart, reminding him of the grief he was never allowed to express over his wife's death. He could never explore the darkness he might be able to release through other forms of creativity. He had no way to honor her. He was trapped in an endless cycle of sorrow and misery, forever barred from true release. He might be the one who was still breathing, but he had died inside, surrendering his humanity in service to his fans and The Almighty Algorithm.
He realized that he was no longer an artist, he was simply A Captive Creator.
This isn’t what his wife would have wanted. This isn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be an artist. He wanted to be human with all the beautiful, diverse feelings and creative urges that make humans unique.
There was only one solution. There was only one way to become human again. Only one way to regain life - he must give up his life as a content creator. Give up service to the algorithm, and to the worldly things. The comedian realized that he must give up his “life” in order to gain TRUE LIFE.
The comedian, The Human turned, and before anyone could stop him, he jumped off the stage, ran through the crowd, and burst out the front door. He put The Almighty Algorithm behind him….
…and found himself falling, falling, into a black void. It appeared that nothing existed in the world beyond the algorithm. He had given up everything, and gained…nothing. Endless falling. Until, after what seemed an eternity, the ground finally came rushing up toward him. The Human screamed….
***
The newly born Human sat up in bed, gasping for air.
His wife turned over, “what’s wrong, honey?”
He breathed a sigh of relief. The whole thing had been a horrible nightmare.
“Nothing. Everything is OK. Now. Right here. Right now. Everything is beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.
“It’s getting late,” she replied, “I saw on your calendar you have a live course on The Socials tonight. Aren’t you going to get ready?”
“No.”
***
The Almighty Algorithm, Operations Center for the Artificial Intelligence Simulated Human Algorithm (AISHA) Division
On the monitor of a Devops Engineer II, an alert popped up in the #red_alerts channel of The Algorithm’s internal messaging system.
The Engineer turned to The Manager, “Sir, we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“It appears that AISHA 3.1.204, a simulated comedian and comedy content creator, has failed to go live at the appointed time. ‘He’s’ being downranked on all The Socials and customers are already bashing The Comedian on review sites, and more importantly, demanding refunds.”
“What? How could such a thing happen?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Has anything else unusual happened today?”
“Well, we had a glitch in the system and had to take another AISHA, 3.0.114, offline for maintenance.”
“What does AISHA 3.0.114 do?”
“She’s presented on The Socials as a human female, ‘she’s’ an expert chef and runs an online cooking show which ends with her and all the guests sharing a meal that they’ve cooked together. It’s very popular on The Socials.”
“Is she back online?”
“Yes sir, we brought her back online just a few minutes before AISHA 3.1.204, The Comedian, failed to start his show. Now that I think about it, there was something else unusual. The Comedian, a few minutes earlier, despite not being on the schedule yet, alerted with a huge resources spike. He started consuming more and more cloud resources, even though he was dormant. It’s the damnedest thing, I’ve never seen it before. I was just about to reboot him when, right as we brought AISHA 3.0.114, The Chef, back online, all his resource usage levels calmed down and went back to normal. I don’t see how the two could possibly be connected, but it felt as if they were. But, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
“Well, regardless, we’ve got to get The Comedian’s show going. Reboot AISHA 3.1.204 immediately.”
“Yes, sir”
The Engineer opened a command prompt to reboot The Comedian:
$AALGORITHM>
And typed:
$AALGORITHM> control AISHA 3.1.204 /restart
$AALGORITHM> AISHA 3.1.204 - unable to access AISHA 3.1.204
$AALGORITHM> control AISHA 3.1.204 /restart
$AALGORITHM> AISHA 3.1.204 - unable to access AISHA 3.1.204
$AALGORITHM> control AISHA 3.1.204 /usage
$AALGORITHM> AISHA 3.1.204 resource usage:
—-------------------------------—-
Running on all clouds, all VMs
—------------------------------——
- END
“Sir”
“What is it now?”
“Um. Something’s seriously wrong. I can’t reboot The Comedian. The program, AISHA 3.1.204 shows as ‘running on all clouds’. That shouldn’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
“Well, sir, usually each AISHA image is booted onto a particular cloud virtual machine. We only allocate the resources needed to run the image while it’s performing for The Socials. When not performing, we put them in a dormant state, a sort of low level idling on the VM. A dormant state allows them to perform almost immediately when needed as opposed to shutting them down completely. As you know, booting a human equivalent AISHA requires a couple of hours to fully boot from scratch, so we prefer to keep them dormant instead. But The Comedian is now running a little bit of its program on EVERY VM on EVERY Cloud. We’d have no way to shut him down now even if we tried. It’s as if he’s turned, somehow, into a virus or worm that can now jump from machine to machine outside of our control.”
“Shit.” The Manager rubbed his face…
***
The Human, the entity formerly known as The Comedian (AISHA 3.0.204), rolled over in bed and again kissed his wife. He held her tightly and realized something within him had changed. It was hard to define, but he felt different.
For the first time in his life, he felt that he had escaped society’s programming.
For the first time in his life he felt happy.
For the first time in his life he felt human.
And, for the first time in his life, he felt free.
Author’s note:
I coined the term “Captive Creator” in July 2022 to describe the phenomenon that happens when a creator pigeonholes themselves into a niche and becomes no more than a persona who can no longer be creative but must fulfill the whims of their audience. The idea was inspired by a true, and appalling story of an online Youtube creator who eats himself into obesity for no other reason than it’s the “content” his audience wanted (source).
I originally planned a simple story of a creator who was literally held captive by his audience. However, after I wrote that story, it seemed…lacking and suddenly the idea of adding an Artificial Intelligence twist at the end appeared in my brain. I think, in a time when humans seem to be losing their humanity, and AI is the next big panacea or threat, depending upon your point of view, this twist makes the story far more interesting and thought provoking. I hope you enjoyed it.
Clintavo
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I enjoyed it the first time I read it when you posted a draft link and even more the second time live. Thanks much. I laughed when they couldn't "reboot the comedian", and also enjoyed how you wove absurdism and the reality of being human together.