This week I was plum out of ideas, so I thought I’d go out on a limb and try a chatbot AI program to see if it could offer any help.  

The first thing I requested was broad, but I was curious to see what it would come up with using the prompt:

Write an article about horses.

Within 15 seconds, my request was complete. I grabbed a pen and gave it a read in the dim hope of finding a clever idea to write about.   

What it spewed out was a 573-word, middle school-level essay about horses, covering the topics of history, anatomy, behavior, and communication—and the tried-and-true subject of the bond between horses and humans. That’s a lot of ground to cover in so few words. 

Four words into the first sentence, I set my pen down and typed this sentence, because I’d just figured out what I was going to write about. The first sentence read:

“Horses, with their majestic presence and undeniable grace, have captivated humanity for centuries.”

Oh, my. 

It’s true, horses have been of interest to us humans for centuries, but the words “majestic” and “grace” are a bit cringy, don’t you think? 

Horses, I suppose, are majestic, but that’s an adjective I’d never use to describe anything. I do sometimes wonder if I’m just a mean, cynical person who needs to stop being so cranky about things. However, today is not that day. 

I waded through other words of note such as: captivated, magnificent, powerful, transcends, allure, and splendor.  It’s the sort of cliché vocabulary only non-horse people use to describe our equine friends. Which, I suppose, is fair, given that this is artificial intelligence, trying its darndest to please the masses. 

I’ll admit, however, for 15 seconds of effort from this computer program (and given such a broad subject), it did a pretty-okay job. Especially, if you’re in grade six, needing to turn in an essay about your favorite animal tomorrow at 9 a.m. 

Now, let’s narrow the focus and see what happens. My request:

Write an article about equine bone structure in the front leg.

I wrote about this myself a few weeks ago, and thought it would be a good comparison. 

What I learned after typing in my second suggestion was that 15 seconds was actually a long time to process the first “article.” This time, after I hit ‘Enter,’ nothing appeared to happen. Annoyed, as per, I re-entered my demand, only to realize the machine, as it were, had already spit out its second offering on the subject. With a narrower focus, it appears the program can actually gather the information at lightning speed. It made me feel old, but such is life.   

The AI generator was quick to roll out “majestic” and “grace” again, which I suspect is par for the course with these things. 

For example, “In the realm of equine anatomy, the front legs of horses stand as pillars of strength and grace, supporting the majestic creatures in their every stride.”

Firstly, gag. 

Secondly, what in hell’s name is going on here? Is that an example of a word salad or just a series of puns/clichés/double entendres or whatever? No matter the answer, that sentence is a lot to take in. 

Thirdly, I don’t think, with the best will in the world, a human would have ever come up with such a description for the reasoning of a horse’s two front legs. I doff my cap.

Next, I think I’ll try something different:

Humorous article about a horse’s leg bone structure.

I will say, most of what was written was unsurprisingly humorless. However, the bit about splint bones was amusing—though likely not in the intended way.  

“Ah, the splint bones, those quirky little sidekicks to the cannon bone. They’re like the horse leg’s equivalent of training wheels—always there to lend a helping bone when things get a little wobbly. Some say they’re just the horse’s way of accessorizing its leg with a touch of whimsy.”

I mean…what? 

A whimsical accessory? Like a feather boa? 

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I find it unlikely someone has looked at their horse with a freshly popped splint and said, with hands on hips, “Well, isn’t that fun!” without a hint of sarcasm. 

I could go on for some time about that paragraph; however, for the sake of brevity, I’ll leave it there.  

“Whimsy” is a great word, though.

My final attempt is to gain some proper help from this thing:

Unusual words in the horse world.

I suspect if I weren’t a horse person, the list presented to me would be interesting. However, we already know the words withers, croup, fetlock, and martingale. But the last word on the list is new to me, which is, “quidding.”

And what is quidding or quid, for those of you, like me, who have no idea? Well, it’s the word we use, or will start using, when a horse drops grain from their mouth while chewing or leaving behind partially chewed balls of hay in their feeders. This is, obviously, due to dental problems. Quidding. I had no idea. 

I asked the same question again to see if more words sprang up.

Nope. Nothing. This program loves the words fetlock, piaffe, bosal, and the like. All things we know, and I have written about. But it was worth a shot. 

In conclusion, this was my first kick at the can, and perhaps if I come up with some better questions, I’ll receive better answers. 

I don’t believe we writers need to fear the world of AI-generated text just yet. That being said, it’s certainly a great way to start your research and gather ideas. I’ll give this AI writing business a 2/10 if you know the subject matter well, and an 8/10 if you don’t know anything about your topic.

May the living brain continue to reign supreme.