Tag: Little Egg Harbor

  • I’ve recently noticed a new wave of outrage—this time over small creators using AI. Not big brands or corporations, but local pages, scanner feeds, hobbyists, and content makers who rely on AI tools to survive the daily grind of content creation.

    And to be clear: This isn’t new. Every photo you see online is modified in some way—cropped, compressed, filtered, formatted. Even if it’s not manually edited, it’s being reprocessed by the platform itself. Instagram, Facebook, TikTok—they all change how images look before they hit your feed.

    So why the moral panic now?

    Is it because the image was obviously made by AI?

    Even if it was, why does that suddenly make it less meaningful to you? Do you scrutinize TV commercials or magazine ads or government PSA flyers for authenticity? What about the memes your aunt shares or the blurry screenshots passed around group chats?

    AI has been part of our lives far longer than most people care to admit. Spellcheck is AI. Your iPhone camera processing is AI. Excel auto-formulas are AI. Unless you’re printing a letter with a fountain pen and hand-delivering it to someone’s mailbox, you’re using computer-assisted systems.

    So here’s the deal:

    If I post a photo—real, AI-generated, or somewhere in between—my job is to give you useful or relevant content. You glance at it, get what you need, and scroll on. That’s how we consume information now.

    This isn’t about trying to win awards for photojournalism. It’s about making content digestible, clear, and quick. If the post hits the mark, great. If not, scroll. But don’t pretend that some deep betrayal has occurred just because a piece of art or visual aid was enhanced—or even created—by a computer program.

    And let’s be real: if I printed out this post, stuck it in an envelope, and mailed it to you, it would land in your trash bin with the rest of the junk mail.

    (Respect to my friends who still print publications—I’m making a point.)

  • If You Want to Save Power, Start with Times Square—Not My Thermostat

    Turn off the lights on Broadway. Shut down the glow in Times Square. If you really want to conserve power, maybe start with the buildings blasting neon ads into the night sky 24/7.

    We’re being told to keep our air conditioners at 78 degrees to help the grid out.

    Look, I’m not telling anybody how to spend their money or run their lights. That’s their business. But I also don’t want to hear how I’m personally responsible for saving the grid by sweating through July like I’m in a parked car at a rest stop.

    78 degrees? That’s not air conditioning. That’s dog breath with taxes. It doesn’t cool you down—it just lets the sweat simmer more efficiently.

    And choosing to keep it at 78? That’s not comfort. That’s like standing behind a car exhaust in January and calling it heat.

    When I was a kid and my hands were cold and wet from playing in the snow, I’d warm them up by standing over the dryer vent outside the house. If you think 78 degrees is the move in the middle of a heatwave, you’re that same kind of psycho.

    Let’s have a little common sense with all this. If you want to help the grid, great. If you want to stay cool, also great. But let’s not pretend regular folks keeping it at 72 are the problem while Times Square is glowing like it’s the Vegas strip.

    What’s your optimal thermostat temperature in summer? Be honest. Comments are open.