
“The microwave destroyed all my silverware”
Before I make a major purchase, I usually spend a lot of time studying reviews. It’s frustrating that you can’t trust them anymore. It’s become a real struggle to figure out which reviews are genuine and which are complete fabrications. Even when you filter out the clueless commenters, many vendors try to stack the deck with glowing reviews, while their competitors sneak in photos of spoons exploding in the microwave.
I’ve gotten fairly good at deciphering and categorizing these reviews—learning to read between the lines—but AI takes subterfuge to a whole new level. Still, AI leaves traces.
When I retired, I began my journey into social media with Bluesky, and was completely unprepared for what I found. Some posts are factual. Some are confused. Some are outright lies. And some… are just AI. When I’m confronted with something unfamiliar, the engineer in me always looks for patterns and similarities to past experiences. Approaching it that way, I realized social media was, in many ways, just like reading product reviews: full of noise and buried truths.
I decided to write this post after reading a post on LinkedIn that was clearly written by AI. What concerned me were the number of professionals gushing about how heartwarming the story was.

Solar powered
To spare you the filler: shortly after his wife dies, a 79-year-old man in Maple Grove opens a little fix-it shop in his garage, offering repairs in exchange for sharing tea. His first visitor is an eight-year-old girl whose toy car needs a new wheel. He fixes it with a bottle cap and duct tape. A city official shuts him down for being “unlicensed,” the neighborhood protests, and he’s offered the old firehouse to continue his work. Eight years later, that same girl is now 16, interning at a robotics lab, building a solar-powered prosthetic arm.
It hits every note: grief, compassion, community, injustice, inspiration. It’s almost too perfect.
And that’s the problem.
The best lies always carry a seed of truth. Fix-it organizations like this do exist—many towns hold festivals where people bring broken items for local experts to repair. So why does this particular story feel wrong?
Here’s what raised red flags for me: no state given for Maple Grove; an 8-year-old girl with a toy car that can be fixed with a bottle cap; the stereotypically evil city official; the conveniently available old firehouse; the 16-year-old intern; and of course, the solar-powered prosthetic arm.
All technically possible. Well except for the prosthetic arm. The user would need to carry a solar panel the size of a backpack just to power it. On their own, none of these details scream fake. But taken together? It’s highly suspect.
So why do I think AI wrote it, instead of a human hack?
Because AI doesn’t understand people—it only understands patterns in data. A story about an eight-year-old playing with a toy car that can be fixed with a bottle cap? Maybe. But six would be more believable. A 16-year-old intern at a robotics lab? Possible, sure—but restrictive labor laws make it unlikely. AI doesn’t make that kind of real-world connection unless directed to.
Finally, there’s the solar-powered prosthetic arm. It sounds amazing, until you stop and consider the physics. I’m a solar power enthusiast myself, but there’s just no way to power a prosthetic limb with a panel small enough to fit on your arm. Still, AI added it—not because it makes sense, but because it sounds inspirational. It isn’t striving for truth here. Engagement was the goal.
You might argue that AI should be better at spotting those technical flaws than most humans. And that’s exactly my point. AI doesn’t think beyond its instructions. It was told to write a feel-good story and it did. Reality wasn’t part of the instruction set.
Why does any of this matter? Because most people now get their news from social media. That’s not surprising, between lawsuits, owner censorship and just plain laziness, main stream media has lost a lot of credibility. The drawback is that this info migration gives a voice to every flat earther with a tin foil hat. And if we can’t tell what’s real, we’re in trouble.
Take Trump’s “big beautiful parade.” Despite what the White House Communications Director claimed, it was a complete flop. Just check any network—except Fox—and the truth is plain.

Iron lungs, necessary to live and a common issue!
Okay, that one might be low-hanging fruit. But consider vaccines and RFK Jr. Most people today don’t remember the children in iron lungs, or those permanently crippled by polio. I do. I had a neighbor who wore leg braces for life because of it. And do you know why we don’t see that anymore? Because of vaccines.
Whooping cough. Measles. Polio. These diseases vanished thanks to vaccines. And now we have Luddite politicians calling to ban RSV vaccinations? That’s not just ignorance—it’s dangerous.
Not long ago, a friend sent me a link that used a clever tactic. It opened with a question: “Do you understand how your cellphone works?” It’s a brilliant filter. If you don’t, you’re more likely to believe the conspiracy nonsense that follows.
That’s why I’m writing this. I want you to look deeper. Don’t just accept what’s presented to you—look for what’s missing, what doesn’t quite add up. Pull on those threads that don’t look right. Dig into the real data. Ask hard questions.
Because the truth is out there. But very few influencers actually want you to find it.
Normally this is where I have a little fun and insert some music created on Songer. It’s fast, easy and often exceeds my expectations.
This time was far more difficult. I found I liked several of the songs and could not make a choice. So, I decided to leave it up to you. Feel free to tell me if you have a favorite or to request the lyrics.
Lies and Greed:
Twisted Truths:
Whispers of Deceit:
Voices in the Shadows:
© 2025, Byron Seastrunk. All rights reserved.