The Property Crash, Silent Reflux, and how stupid is AI?

Property Sales are Shite

So the government's strategy to reduce inflation by cooling down the property market is working.

"Sales are shite" says Mike, my much loved estate agent from Knight Frank.

Wydemeet, my beautiful 5-bed fishing lodge in remotest Dartmoor, has now been on the market on and off for a total of three years. I could have sold it unseen in a nano-second for millions, during the Covid madness; but happily for me, those turned out to be the best two years of my life, so I'm glad I didn't.

Wydemeet is the ultimate equestrian and fishing property, with all 350 square miles of Dartmoor its back garden. The problem is, apparently,  that the house is 10 minutes away from the nearest pint of milk.

Eh?  So what? Tesco will bring 20 gallons of milk to our front door! Even a toaster, or a kettle if you want one, all on its own in a Tesco van, delivered 12 hrs after you ask for it, first thing on a Sunday morning. I know that, because my B&B provides the ultimate in smooth-running service at all times, so I have to always be on the front foot.

But now, having enjoyed this gorgeousness for nearly 30 years, I am absolutely gagging to return to Fulham, and also to buy a little country cottage in the New Forest, complete with horse, where there might be some people around. Including, hopefully, a nice single middle-aged yachtie in faded pink shorts and salt-encrusted deck shoes.

Otherwise I will die here, an old maid, all alone, even madder than I already am.

I have to flee! But the stagnent property market just won't let me! I am stuck here in the middle of nowhere, having been diagnosed yesterday, after a camera was shoved through my nose and down my throat (think Covid test x 500,00),with something called 'Silent Reflux', as a result of too much Cava and vaping, because what else is there to do? At least it isn't cancer - yet.

Chatbot

All of which means that I have loads of time to research things I dont understand, such as Chatbot and the social meeja.

Last night I messaged ChatGPT and asked him/her to tell me about Hermes Scarves, Sore Throats, and to write me an essay on the Prejudices of 'Britain's Got Talent' (a Chatbot answer has previously scored 62%  for my daughter in her Exeter Uni essay.) I found the results so banal that I wonder why the world's leaders are so afraid of this thick AI thing.

So I checked out my IQ to see if I'm any cleverer. I scored just 97 on Mensa's test, which comprised a load of lines and dots, confirming that I am indeed a very dumb blonde. But then I scored 125 on a test which asked questions such as: "If James is 10, and Tom is 3 and Harry is 5, who are the two eldest boys" or somesuch. So it turns out that I'm obviously miles cleverer than these AI things, as I'd assumed.

What is the world so worried about?

My own personal worry is that I'll never sell my home, and one day soon will come out of it in a box.