GPT-3
Annabel Lee met a tragic end in her kingdom by the sea. Will content-generating AI spawn a new breed of tragic protagonist?
"Annabel Lee"
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Written By: Edgar Allan Poe, circa 1849
"GPT-3"
It was many and many a job ago,
At a startup by the sea
When I first would try an OpenAI
By the name of GPT-3
And her beauty bespoke, with every keystroke
Of her scintillant NLP
Editors smiled, transformers compiled,
Lorem ipsum swapped with glee,
As I soon fell in love as she fit like a GloVe,
I and my GPT-3
With a passion reserved for flame wars, trolls or
Popular NFTs.
A lonely ascetic, so long ago,
Many years before DALL-E,
A prompt enigma was posed, stumping
My marvelous GPT-3
When I first enrolled I grew enthralled
With her vast precocity,
But sensitive, much less sentient,
She could never prove to be
My colleagues, not half her equal as linguists
Grew weary of her and me,
Yes! This is the reason HR conveyed
From their office by the sea,
When my termination arrived by Zoom
Killing my login for GPT-3
But our dash was much richer by far than the cache
Of algos far older than we
Of networks far deeper than she
And neither my therapist’s agonized pleas
Nor some vicious, demanding VC,
Could ever request that I scroll past the pull
Of temptation from GPT-3
I was ne’er so immersed as when once I conversed
With my eloquent GPT-3
And my code never ships, but I still quote the quips
Of my humorous GPT-3
And so now, when I pair, I recall lingual flair
Of my mistress, my muse, and my cyber-affair
At a startup awash in VC,
Now adrift with no cashflow for me.
Written By: "Weird Ev" Coopersmith & AE Studio
"Annabel Lee"
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Written By: Edgar Allan Poe, circa 1849
