08/22/2026
That's my face. Those are my words. I wrote none of it.
Here's how that works.
I've spent the last two years feeding AI the real inventory of my life: 35 years of practice, thousands of patients, two published books, four unpublished manuscripts, Harvard psychology, Buffalo Bills, my mother's Dresden firebombing experiences, my dad's wise and witty sayings, my wife's Mexican food magazine and newsletter, seven pairs of cowboy boots, and a lot of bad puns. All of it. This wasn't a personality quiz. It came from dumping in a ton of raw material.
At some point, AI stopped guessing about me and started reflecting me.
One thing nobody tells you: AI is a mirror before it's anything else. Feed it three sentences, and it hands you back a stranger in a costume. Feed it your life, and it hands you back your life, with greater clarity, sharper.
I was surprised by an exercise this week. It came after a series of prompts.
I could never have written this poster about myself. I mean, not because it's false. Because we are all pretty lousy at seeing our own brilliance.
We discount what comes easy to us because we see it as effortless. It took a machine reading my own life back to me before I could recognize it.
Everybody's worried AI makes us less human. I'm inclined to take the other side of that bet.
What kills trust is the gap between who you are and what you dare to say out loud. This closed that gap for me.
You create. AI assists. And, most important of all, you're still driving. (Not a Waymo) 🌴😎🌴