This Isn’t Fantasia; It’s Aphasia
We Don’t Know the Magic Words and If We Did, We Couldn’t Understand Them
At the end of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice
as chaos reaches a crescendo
the sorcerer appears just in time
and sets things back in order
Apprenticed to no one,
under the illusion of self-mastery
we cast a spell over ourselves
that turned up the limbic system
and turned off the prefrontal cortex we needed
were we ever to cast the counterspell
In desperation, we’ve summoned AI
in the hopes that it will
begin our apprenticeship in
incantation without cogitation or
even
narration
