KAREL’S LAST TAPE
An academic’s office. A chair and a desk with a colourful scarf as table cloth. On the desk, a laptop, reading lamp, and a few books. Hanging on the back of the chair, a black shawl. In the corner, a cardboard box of notebooks.

Journal Blog
An academic’s office. A chair and a desk with a colourful scarf as table cloth. On the desk, a laptop, reading lamp, and a few books. Hanging on the back of the chair, a black shawl. In the corner, a cardboard box of notebooks.
This blog post is a response to LOST PREDICTIONS by Fiona Murphy and Eva van Roekel, LOST PREDICTIONS II by Maruška Svašek, and LOST PREDICTIONS III by Sweta Tiwari. It was produced using ChatGPT and Google Gemini, though the responses are carved as per the requirement. Karel came into the classroom without his usual scowl. He wasn’t staging his …
This blog post is a response to LOST PREDICTIONS by Fiona Murphy and Eva van Roekel, and LOST PREDICTIONS II by Maruška Svašek, with and without ChatGPT (depending on who you’re more afraid of). Any emotions expressed here are entirely fictional, except empathy, which stubbornly insisted on staying. The old lamp buzzed faintly, like a …
This blog post is a reply to LOST PREDICTIONS by Fiona Murphy and Eva van Roekel Maruška Svašek without ChatGPT Karel entered the museum with a visceral urge to be surrounded by artefacts. To be sucked in by the collection and erase himself. The trip to Berlin had shaken him to the core. On top …
Professor Karel Mulder sat at his desk, wreathed in the noble decay of academia—a kingdom of paper that had long since declared independence from any attempts at order.
What happens when the prediction fails, but the system marches on as if it hadn’t? When the algorithm forgets what the body remembers?