"robby gotta die" i say into the mic.
the crowd boos. i begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.
"they're right," he says. i look for the owner of the voice. there in the 2nd row stands: michael robinavitch.
If your flyer is AI, I won’t go.
If your book cover is AI, I won’t read.
If your song is AI, I won’t listen.
If your ad is AI, I won’t buy.
If your profile pic is AI, I won't follow.