Please don’t send me stuff like this. It depresses me. I hope my response to it cheers you up.
Viewer:
Hi, Mr Salles I just want to give a late thank you for my GCSE English results where I achieved A* for lang.
I couldn't have done it without your videos and am extremely grateful for them. I'm not sure you need it, but here's the question 5 for my paper (I also used it previously for mocks).
Please feel free to use it for a video if you want, (if you do I'd like to remain anonymous, I could only make it because of your videos and don't want credit):
Me:
This feels exactly like ChatGPT. What prompts did you use and how did you edit it? I would like to make a video on it, thanks.
Viewer:
So first I put in every GCSE Q5 I could find and told it to make a plot that works for all of them, then made it 5 paragraphs and made it write an outline of each paragraph.
I put in some of my previous writing so it could understand and replicate my style and the way I write and told it to write it.
I changed any parts I didn't like and edited it on the Samsung notes app and boom, that's the finished product.
I may have a missed some steps. It was a while back during the mocks before GCSEs. I apologise if I did so.
If you don't mind also, I'm curious as to what mark it got on the actual paper. I think the question was write a story about meeting animals or something along those lines.
Me:
That’s great, I’ll take a look later.
Chat GPT/ Student Story
Paragraph 1:
The coastal town of Port Haven, nestled amidst Maine's rugged cliffs in the early 20th century, witnessed a curious interplay of human existence and the relentless Atlantic. Time seemed to stretch languidly, as if paying homage to the ancient lighthouse that stood as a vigilant guardian over the rocky shores. Samuel Abbott, a seasoned fisherman of sixty winters, embodied the essence of the town. His countenance bore the marks of countless battles with tempestuous seas, etched upon his face like scars of a life in harmony with the ebb and flow of the tides. With stoic grace, he embraced the simplicity of his existence, finding solace in the rhythmic dance of waves and the familiar creaking of his fishing boat. Samuel's hands, weathered and calloused, spoke volumes of his resilience and unwavering commitment to the pursuit of the ocean's bounty. Little did he know that on this mist-laden morning, as he cast his nets into the depths, an unforeseen turn of events lay in wait, poised to challenge the very fabric of his reality and plunge him into an abyss of uncertainty.
Paragraph 2:
The fog, clinging to the air like an ethereal shroud, heightened Samuel's senses, honed by years of communion with the ever-shifting temperament of the sea. A mysterious luminescence, elusive and enchanting, emanated from beneath the waves, beckoning him with its siren call. Balancing trepidation and curiosity, Samuel leaned over the edge of his weathered vessel, his eyes straining to discern the source of this mystical radiance. And then, rising from the depths like a mythical creature, she appeared. A mermaid, resplendent in her iridescent beauty, emerged from the swirling currents, her emerald tail aglow with an otherworldly luminescence. Time halted in that fleeting, yet profound, moment as their eyes locked—a transcendence of realms, an inexplicable connection. The mermaid's sapphire gaze delved into Samuel's soul, penetrating the depths of his being, awakening a yearning he had never fathomed.
Paragraph 3:
In that suspended moment, a symphony of emotions swelled within Samuel. Awe blended with disbelief as he grappled with the reconciliation of the extraordinary and his ingrained sense of rationality. Was this a trick of the mind, a hallucination born from the solitude of the sea? The mermaid's presence, interwoven with the very essence of the ocean, defied logical explanation. Her ethereal beauty stirred in Samuel a longing for something beyond the confines of his fishing village, an urge to transcend the boundaries of his existence and embark on a journey steeped in enigma and wonder. Yet, the transient nature of their encounter left him yearning for more, adrift like a sailor navigating uncharted waters, torn between the allure of the extraordinary and the safety of the familiar.
Paragraph 4:
As Samuel returned to the shore, burdened by a secret as weighty as his boat's anchor, he knew the townsfolk, steeped in practicality and steadfast traditions, would dismiss his tale as the ramblings of a weathered sailor. Desiring to infuse their mundane lives with the ethereal beauty he had witnessed, he grasped for words that eluded him, swallowed by the uncharted depths of his own uncertainty. Seeking solace amidst the coastal cliffs, where the relentless waves crashed against the rugged shore, he retreated into solitude. There, with the salty breeze caressing his weathered countenance, Samuel wrestled with the enigmatic encounter that had upheaved his world. The mermaid's haunting gaze lingered in his thoughts, a constant reminder of the unexplained and the infinite possibilities concealed beyond the veil of the ordinary.
Paragraph 5:
Within the hushed sanctuary of solitude, Samuel embarked on an introspective journey, navigating the labyrinthine passages of his memories and aspirations. Ancient tales and forgotten myths beckoned him, their pages offering solace in their echoes. The mermaid transcended the realm of a fleeting vision, embodying the intangible yearnings of his own restless spirit. Through the tapestry of time, he discovered that her appearance was not a mere happenstance but a catalyst for self-discovery. Her presence rekindled a dormant spark within him, urging him to embrace the inexplicable wonders of life and defy the constraints of his own perception. Samuel's encounter, unexpected and profound, forever shifted his perspective on the world, infusing it with newfound potential and enchantment. And as his gaze roamed across the boundless expanse of the ocean, he understood that he possessed the power to leave an indelible mark upon the community he called home, weaving threads of magic and mystery into the very fabric of their lives.
Viewer:
Ok, thanks! Is it possible I'll get a mark from you or are you too busy?
Me:
Yes, I'll mark it. Remind me in a week if you haven't heard.
Viewer:
Can I have my mark please?
Me:
First, this is bullshit writing. Sit down with a good book, open any page at random and write down all the ways this is worse.
There’s no point in my telling you all the ways this is bullshit, because if you knew, you wouldn’t have sent it to me. I don’t mean that in a cruel way. I mean, you genuinely don’t know why good writing is good writing, and why bad writing is really, really bad.
This is really, really bad.
The sad thing is that this bullshit writing would still get a grade 8 or 9 . It would be in the top band for AO5 and AO6, because the assessment criteria are not very useful. Let me show you:
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