Indignified

The Chinese AI Gets a Shot at Indignity

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A few quick notes before I post the fiction created by the Chinese AI bot Deepseek by using the same prompt I fed myself for Indignified: The Unmaking of a Man (my true origin story) and to ChatGPT for Indignified. There will be several other models to follow - in a sense this is the prelaunch of Indignified, the brand - my personal brand.

I’m going to post the final first version of the Indignified Manifesto here on May 1st. May 1st is a day worth noting, in my opinion. In ancient times it was a festival of floral celebration and of children becoming adults. In the Celtic regions it was celebrated as Beltane and throughout much of Europe as May Day. Celebrations with flowers and poles are really more than just that. They were celebrations of spring fucking in all of its wonderful exuberance. Then there is the history of May Day as a holiday celebrating workers and all they do - and the rights they deserve - one can point to the Haymarket Affair - bombs thrown at policemen during a protest in Chicago in 1866. This was a sort of Guy Fawkes of the USA - and is why the USA moved Labor Day to another day - along with a fear of socialism. In Baoism - it’s a day to call in sick for religious reasons - especially if you are feeling good. “I feel too good to work today. If I’m feeling sick tomorrow, I’ll come in early.”

Paid subscribers will be able to see my comments and commentary on the fiction Deep Seek wrote here along with the prompt I used on myself and all the AI models.

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Indignified by DeepSeek

The Education of Mr. Holloway

He was born Ethan Holloway III, a name that came with a handbook:

1. Excel quietly.

2. Suffer politely.

3. Never let them see you bleed.

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THE PADDLE (Age 14)

At St. Ignatius Prep, they beat him for asking why Latin mattered more than logic. The principal’s office smelled of lemon oil and sweat.

"This hurts me more than it hurts you," said Father Driscoll, swinging the maple board.

Ethan counted the cracks. Seven.

His father’s response that evening: "Stop provoking them."

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THE BRIG (Age 19)

The Army promised structure. Instead, he got:

- A sergeant who broke his nose for questioning orders.

- A demotion for saluting "too slowly."

- Three nights in the brig, screaming himself hoarse while MPs laughed.

His father’s letter: "The military made me who I am."

Ethan drank until his liver wept.

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THE DESK (Age 27)

Post-service, he filled forms in triplicate for a "dignified" insurance job. The dot-com crash erased his department by lunch.

His father’s advice: "You should’ve been in tech."

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THE STREET (Age 34)

The 2008 crash took his condo. He slept in a ’92 Corolla, showered at truck stops, and earned an MBA by flashlight.

At graduation, his father handed him a business card for a "real job."

Ethan burned it in the parking lot.

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THE COUNTER (Age 41)

He built a coffee stand into three shops. Landlords doubled rents, inspectors demanded bribes, and his wife left with the barista.

His father’s diagnosis: "You lack perseverance."

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THE PANDEMIC (Age 48)

His startup—a delivery app for indie bookstores—had just secured funding when the world shut down. The eviction notice came on lavender paper.

His father Zoomed from Costa Rica: "Maybe it’s karma."

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THE FIRE (Age 50)

Ethan Holloway III died in a Nevada motel. The coroner listed "undetermined causes."

The man who walked out wore:

- A thrift-store jacket with "Indignified" sharpied on the tag.

- A smile for the first time in decades.

- The homeless guys approval as he burned the last form he’d ever sign.

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EPILOGUE

They say he runs a pirate radio station now, broadcasting from an abandoned house in Japan.

His father still tells the story of "my son, the cautionary tale."

The homeless guys laugh every time.

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