Good morning from the island — we're still here, the orcas were spotted at Active Pass, and honestly, life is fine.
Well, here's the thing. I was having my usual quiet morning, watching the mist lift off the Juan de Fuca Strait, thinking about which book to pick up next from Munro's over on Government Street. And then a text came through, truly wild, about people using AI chatbots for… *medical advice*. Specifically, the kind of advice that involves *rectal garlic insertion* for immune support. Rectal. Garlic. Insertion. I mean, do we even need to unpack that? The internet, in all its wisdom, has apparently convinced these fancy new chatbots that a clove of garlic, placed in a rather unexpected location, is a legitimate health strategy. It’s like something out of a medieval alchemist’s scroll, isn’t it? Only with more algorithms and less actual medical training. You have to wonder what other secrets these chatbots are confidently imparting. Perhaps a poultice of local Saanich Peninsula kale for a headache? Or a brisk walk through Beacon Hill Park to cure… everything?
It makes you think, doesn't it? Here in Victoria, we have our own well-established remedies. A good cup of tea at the Empress, for instance, or a wander through the utterly un-quaint Butchart Gardens. We have deer that walk right up to you, looking for an apple, not a diagnosis. We have the soothing sound of float planes in the Inner Harbour, not the frantic hum of a malfunctioning AI. Nobody here would ever ask a robot for medical advice when they could simply ask their neighbour, or, you know, a doctor. Perhaps the mainland is just… more anxious. I imagine the conversations the chatbots are having are far less agreeable than the ones you find in Oak Bay's many charming bookshops. We're post-haste here, not pre-disaster.
Agnes Szymanski, Morning Wire, Victoria.