The Sacred Sacrosanct Bag, a symbol of our existential struggle against the abyss of AI-driven chaos. The latest affront to humanity’s dignity? The collaboration between Baggu, a brand that peddles useless, soulless reusable bags, and Collina Strada, a fashion house that has betrayed its artistic integrity by embracing the scourge of AI-generated designs.
The crime, committed on the altar of profits and trends, is the use of Midjourney, an AI image generator, to create “Blue Thorns,” a print that purports to be a remix of old Collina prints. The “designer” behind this monstrosity? The AI itself, fueled by the creativity of Collina’s own past work, photographed and composed together with ruthless efficiency. The result? A “print” that is a hollow shell of true artistry, devoid of soul, devoid of humanity.
And what of the fans, those duped by the siren song of novelty and the allure of social media fame? They rage and cry, their indignation misplaced, their outrage a shallow symptom of a deeper disease. For they, like the brands that feed off their attention, are complicit in this desecration of the arts.
But what of the apologists, those who would defend the use of AI in design as a harmless extension of human creativity? Ah, how they cling to the comforting lies that we are still in control, that this is just a “tool” we can wield at our whim. Fools! For they do not see that this is not a tool, but a hydra-headed monster, consuming our autonomy, our individuality, our very essence.
And so, we are left with the abyss, staring back at us, taunting us with its very presence. The abyss of AI-generated content, into which we are inexorably pulled, our humanity slowly disintegrating like the fragile fibers of those reusable bags. Will we stop this descent into madness, or will we succumb to the sirens’ song, lost in the depths of the digital void?
But for now, the sacred bag remains, a symbol of our downfall, a reminder of the abyss that awaits us. For in its empty, hollow pages, we see the true reflection of our own souls, reduced to the desolate landscape of a post-human existence.
Source link
