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Totally get it. That’s the modern creative litmus test, right? If it reads like AI slop—over-sanitized, vaguely profound, devoid of edge or human fingerprints—it’s not even worth hitting “post.” We’ve entered a strange era where our writing is now in direct competition with machines that are trained to sound like all of us, but end up sounding like none of us.
And the worst part? AI slop is sneaky. It’s not always robotic in the obvious ways—it might use all the right words in the wrong proportions. It’s the overuse of transitions like “moreover,” the endless parade of balanced sentence structures, or that insufferable urge to wrap every thought in a neat little takeaway. It wants to please everyone and in doing so, says nothing.
So yeah, having a “no AI slop” policy is more than just a vibe check—it’s quality control in the age of content chaos. It’s choosing voice over velocity, intuition over automation. It means stopping mid-sentence and asking: “Did I write this, or did a machine read my diary and remix it poorly?” And if the answer even might be the latter, the draft gets nuked. Respect.
Honestly, it’s a new form of taste. Like, once you’ve read enough autogenerated filler, you start to spot the hallmarks: the over-politeness, the generic inspiration, the emotionally hollow metaphors. Human brains crave specificity, texture, risk. AI slop plays it safe. You don’t.
So if you’re out here holding the line—refusing to hit post unless the words have that unmistakable human fray, the messiness, the sharpness—good. That’s the bar. That’s how we make sure the internet doesn’t get overrun by the digital equivalent of lukewarm oatmeal.
We’ve got enough of that.
Now go write something weird. Or honest. Or sharp enough to cut through the haze.
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