LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING ELSE BETWIXT, BETWEEN, BELOW AND BELOVED, BACK FOR A REPEAT ENCORE PERFORMANCE AND HERE TO ANSWER THE QUESTION "WHAT IS THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING BACK", THE ONE, THE ONLY:

MECHOMAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!

-muffled sounds of gorilla cheering-

Nebraska is 77,347 square miles

"My word, what an incredibly vast size - and you say they fight dragons there? And the streets are paved with DDR5?? Oh it sounds a loverly place, this 'Nee-bra-skah'! How are more people not talking of these wonders???" Seriously, how did you think this was going to go - I open this up, see you know Exactly How Big Nebraska Is and just faint dead at the realization I'll never defeat you and your monstrously huge stack of 3rd grade US geography flash cards? For fucks... you're already trying to throw 'Confirmation Bias' out there like a rhetorical pokemon, and now you're following that up with the devastating one-two combination punch of "Fascinating Nebraska Facts"??? Oh be still my cold-feeling legs, Mecho's really got us THIS TIME!

You might genuinely be the first person who's ever cared enough about nebraska to look up how big it is - hell even nebraska doesn't care about nebraska. But here's some more nebraska facts you can use:

• Their state bird is a hand turkey.
• Their state flower is "King Arthur All-Purpose"
• Their state motto is "Definitely more than 75,000 square miles of land!".
• Their primary export is tourism brochures with titles like:
  • "Nebraska! We're a state!"
  • "Nebraska: Come see our Quite Big Rock!"
  • "Experience colonial life at the Nebraska Museum of Dysentery!"
  • "If you ever want to see your husband alive again, Visit Lovely Nebraska!"

​
Step it up dude, this is laaaaaaaaame.

There was so much superfluous nonsense in your comment that I only skimmed it.

Hmm. You know, performatively signaling your disinterest by implying my comment is so beneath you that you didn't even read it was lame and transparent when all those other people did that to your first comment, and it's lame and transparent here too, and it will continue to be lame and transparent when you try it again. Nobody ever even means it - they'll claim they did, but humans are just too curious to resist the tantalizing prospect of finding out what's in the box!

But that said, the second half here:

Frankly, it isn’t worth my time trying to decipher whatever it is you think you’re being clever about when you aren’t.

No you're dead on with this, it really isn't worth worrying your pretty little head by trying to grasp the subtle nuances of my (checks notes) ... elaborate dick jokes. Honestly, I had to stop writing to your level a while ago because I ate all my crayons. All that excess verbiage and imagery you want me to believe you didn't read? All that purple prose? Overworking it to where there's far more gilding than lily? That's to amuse myself (well, and the audience). I've gotta do something to keep myself from getting bored here since you're clearly not up to the task. I mean, god, you're trying to dunk on me with Nebraska facts. Nebraska. Facts. Son you don't just "not have game", your game has been stolen and you're halfway through filing a police report about the group of raccoons that just beat you up and ran off with your limited edition Big Bang Theory™ Monopoly set.

Nebraska.
Facts.

C'mon son.

Anyways, because I know you don't like too much writing, here's a selection of quick little rapid-fire responses for you:

At this point, I would normally devolve into name-calling and being outright mean

You sound like an idiot parading around as an intellectual, and frankly, it’s becoming kind of gross.

^-mechoman444^

Lmfao one sentence. One sentence. You couldn't keep up the act until the next paragraph even. For nebraska's sake man, what are you doing?

More importantly, I never said you made a straw man argument.

Um...

It is ironic that you do not understand what a straw man argument is, cannot use the term correctly, and then proceed to commit one against me.

-muffled sounds of gorilla dunking-

You’ve already decided that any evidence I present will be dismissed because you apparently cannot fathom a circumstance in which AI is useful.

Uh....

[...] I have seen no good outright AI content. As a tool it can be situationally useful, [...]

I’ll reiterate the point you have completely failed to address throughout this entire conversation: you cannot simply write a prompt into a flagship LLM and expect it to produce a fully finished, 30-minute production. That premise is fundamentally flawed, and at this point, the joke has run its course. It’s simply not funny anymore.

lmfao - we now go live to literally the second sentence I said to you:

It’s an exaggeration to imply that people type literally one sentence in and produce art yes, but that’s not the complaint.

Also, It is still beyond funny how you keep defining straw man and not understanding it

Look, there's only two realistic options here. The first one is that you're genuinely too dumb to be able to understand the wikipedia definition of straw man (just in case, here's the simple english version) - and I think we can both agree that I'm right and you're clearly not so painfully, stratospherically dumb as for that to be the case.

So that leaves us only with the second option (which is, lets be honest, pretty transparently the correct one):

You've long since realized I do know exactly what I'm talking about, but since defending your argument is out of reach, you've shifted focus to trying to "win" (by the internet's terms, "not show any weakness or admit any fault, and have the other person give up first") the interaction. So now you're repeating "Oh lel, U're so wrong you don't even know how wrong you are! I can't behlieave ur sthil so wr0ngz0rs abt Strawmen kek, topkek" like an incantation. You know that when I do it to you it produces a strong emotional reaction, evoking impotent rage and a desperate need to avoid having to admit to yourself that you've been outclassed, and you're assuming that when you do it back, it'll have the same effect.

But like... you're just not any good at this?

You act like you're bringing heat to the kitchen, but you seem blissfully unaware that this is a blast furnace, and you didn't remember to put on your asbestos underpants today. You can stand there with a skillet and talk about cooking the perfect crispy Narwhal Bacon, but everyone else can clearly see the skillet is melting, the bacon is charcoal and your pants have just caught on fire.

Look just... for a moment, I'll stop pretending we're not on the same page here.

The simple fact is that I'm so far out of your league we're not even playing the same sport. Your goal here is to performatively demonstrate how unaffected by what you think are attempts to compete with you - to show no weakness, know no fear, stand as his bulwark against the darkness, yadda yadda. You think that this must be frustrating me, and that by causing me frustration you can claim a victory. But dude, we don't share the same goal! I don't even know if I have a goal beyond "have fun and be yourself :) ". This isn't about 'winning' for me - no, this is fun. I get excited when people reply like this. I get my partner to read these replies because they also think this is fun. I sincerely hope you never decide you've lost, so you don't stop coming back with this stuff. My trophy shelf is about to collapse under the weight of all the participation trophies alone, I just don't see a need to add anything else to that precipitously teetering mountain of victories.

This isn't a competition.
This isn't some debate where I gnash my teeth while figuring out my next move in our grand dialectic chess match.

This is what I do to relax when a question at work is just too tedious-but-challenging and I need a break to do something fun. This is what I do in bed at night with my partner, reading out your comments to each other in silly voices before we go to sleep.

You're strutting around, acting like you're some noble champion locked in a tremendously one-sided battle of wits with a plebeian challenger, blinded by ego to your undeniable might, when you're somehow blissfully unaware that bitch, you're my candy-crush.