This article is based on this dutch article of philosopher Martinus Benders
**31-01-2025**
By having the two large language models critique each other, two summaries of the collection Lippenspook eventually emerged that at least cut deeper than the rather generic descriptions that human reviewers typically offer:
### Lippenspook (2016)
Lippenspook reads like a postmodern collage of Dutch Gothic and surreal slapstick—a world where Dylan Thomas’s anger merges with Dadaist jokes, and conceptual art spills over into pub poetry. It is a carnival of existential anxiety, narrated by a clown who has read too much Foucault and sniffed Kafka’s ashes. Think of De blikken trommel rewritten by a runaway Twitter bot, or Beckett directing a punk opera in a Rotterdam squat. (Deepseek)
Lippenspook reads like a manic fusion of Dutch Gothic, surreal slapstick, and postmodern collage—a carnival of existential anxiety where conceptual art merges with dry comedic absurdity. If Borges were a fallen game show host, If Ionesco wrote pop songs, If Beckett staged a punk cabaret in a Rotterdam squat—then this was the poetry playing in the background. It’s Dylan Thomas launching tirades in a karaoke bar, Kamagurka’s humor rewritten with a Stanley knife, and a conceptual joke that, against all odds, makes you truly feel something. (ChatGPT improves Deepseek)
Both descriptions are fairly accurate and the result of exceptionally long analyses.
How is it that this A.I. is better able to interpret my poetry while people are only capable of the most flawed clichés? Read what people wrote:
> In Lippenspook, Benders uses recurring themes and words such as moon, night, lips, kiss, death, and stars. His strength does not lie in these themes themselves, but in the way he employs them to enhance his poetry. (Meandermagazine.nl)
>
> Readers praise Benders’ playful and experimental style, as well as the depth and richness of his poems. Lippenspook is described as a masterful book that hides much more meaning and coherence than you can comprehend on the first reading.
>
> With Lippenspook, Martijn Benders confirms his reputation as an idiosyncratic and innovative voice in Dutch poetry.
Yes, that was pretty much it. My God, what a sorrow. I employ my themes to enhance my poetry! A masterful book with much more meaning and coherence than you can comprehend!
Are these people lacking intelligence? Or is something else going on?
I think it’s a mixed bag. First of all, I believe it’s no longer the case that the more intelligent types are even drawn to the literary world—fifty years of book marketing and bureaucratic censorship have thoroughly spoiled that.
So you’re stuck with people who, to put it kindly, do not best represent what human intellect has to offer. Not a problem, those people have a right to exist and a right to a hobby, I don’t want to deny them that. But it’s a clear difference from how literature was once intended: as a kind of competition between the most ingenious minds.
That competition can, of course, never exist without solid criticism.
And what A.I. will cause in this regard: that the entitlement of lazy writers can now be filled with higher quality and intelligence.
Therefore, this is the perfect moment to stop writing poetry, because there is no protection against this. The script of the misjudged writer does not account for mediocrities being able to create outstanding literature at the push of a button. Every the ‘butterflies,’ as Chekhov called them, can now use A.I. to write a great oeuvre, and your hope that quality will somehow be your salvation in the future—forget it.
When intelligence becomes producible instead of a rare exception, stopping writing poetry is the only solution. I am becoming a musician, film producer, video artist. That is where the challenge lies for me. Continuing to be a poet—it was already a masochistic endeavor, but under these circumstances, it worsens tenfold. A musician still has the advantage that their neighbor might generate good music but cannot perform it on stage themselves. But anyone can read something aloud.
I will continue to create poetry, but package it in other forms. And does it even make sense to write more poetry? Hardly anyone read the thick pill I already wrote. Because we are also dealing with political censorship and the nauseating kind of elitism that manifests in the opposite pole, homo sacer, as reality: the naked, rights-less human, versus the human who managed to embed themselves through rules. Each their own, so to speak. I wish the successful many much success with their shining achievements. I conclude with the new credo: a nation that yields to blackwashers will lose more than body and property: then the light goes out.
Yours sincerely,
**Martinus**
*31-01-2025*