China – Pain In The Bud

Exclusive: Trump’s New Press Secretary Used AI To ‘Write’ Fawning Columns That Helped Get Her The Job

Katie Zacharia, Trump’s newest propagandist, used a large language model to write obsequious columns that helped put her on his radar.

Like most Americans who saw clips of Katie Zacharia’s debut as the newest ~~Baghdad Bob~~ White House press secretary, I was taken aback by how utterly unprepared she was, and the apparently Herculean struggle required for her to read a handful of sentences aloud, slowly, as she introduced herself.

“Her reading is good for an 11-year-old,” Jimmy Kimmel quipped the following night, and the social web’s been buzzing with bets over whether she’ll last a full Scaramucci before Trump Apprentices her and declares she’s “a terrible person” who was unworthy of lying to Americans on his behalf.

So last night I was reading a story about the fact that, while she’s been loudly and frequently telling anyone willing to listen that she’s a lawyer, no one can find any records that Zacharia passed a bar exam in any US state.

When a reporter asked Trump where Zacharia served as a practicing attorney, the president turned and gestured to Zacharia, who smiled and said “When I moved to China.”

There are just a few small problems with that. China’s bar equivalent is the National Unified Legal Professional Qualification Examination, commonly known as the Fakao. It is notoriously difficult, and it’s only administered in Mandarin, Mongolian, Kazakh, Uyghur and Korean. Also, only citizens of China can take the exam.

Zacharia previously told an interviewer she speaks “a bit of Mandarin,” mostly conversational, and she spent less than three years in the country, which means she would not be able to pass the Fakao even if the test didn’t have a nationality requirement.

There’s a nonzero chance she watched the Netflix Korean drama Extraordinary Attorney Woo a few thousand times, got Xi Jinping to personally waive the citizenship requirement and passed the exam on a combination of osmotic knowledge and luck, just like I can’t entirely eliminate the possibility that my cat is a Bengal tiger with dwarfism.

But that still doesn’t explain why Zacharia claims she held positions as chief counsel and specialist in particular areas of law for US corporations. She could not serve in those roles if she was not an attorney.

A female news commentator speaking on the Matt Gaetz Show, with a city skyline background at night. — A clip of Zacharia telling disgraced former congressman Matt Gaetz that World War II was started by German-speaking Anthony Faucis spreading propaganda about vaccines.

Then the story mentioned Zacharia got the job as press secretary partly on the strength of her relentless glazing of the president in columns she wrote for California Globe, a “non-partisan” politics-oriented site with a focus on the Golden State.

Now I was interested. Perhaps Zacharia isn’t marginally literate and her disastrous debut at the White House podium was due to nerves, particularly at the prospect of serving a man who, in her words, is “without a doubt the greatest president the world has ever seen.”

Zacharia’s columns are saturated with slobbering praise calling Trump an “unparalleled titan of American politics,” a “visionary leader” possessed of “unmatched courage” and “a resolve that defies comprehension.”

Her columns credit him with accomplishments equaling or surpassing those of George Washington, of singlehandedly saving our republic from the shadowy forces of deep state evil. They portray him striding across our political landscape like a colossus who also happens to be a “beacon of liberty,” a mobile lighthouse (AI loves using lighthouses in metaphors) whose towering steps between golf courses and McDonald’s rally True Patriots to America-loving endeavors like storming the Capitol for attempted insurrection. Zacharia also paints Trump, naturally, as the world’s foremost champion of election integrity.

There was another quality to the columns worth noting: they were written by AI.

That is not to say they’re good, because AI writing never is. Rather, they’re the sort of thing a person like Zacharia thinks is impressive, filled with the kind of overwrought language ChatGPT generates when the person doing the prompting asks for moving prose but can’t articulate what that looks like and is too lazy to offer much more than “Write a column describing all the ways Donald Trump is awesome and the greatest president in history. Oh! And flatter him a lot so he’ll notice I exist, I’m blonde, and I kind of look like Ivanka if you squint from a distance. Or that conniving Natalie Harp, who totally doesn’t deserve to be so close to Presisent Trump!”

The columns are saturated with the sort of over-the-top superlatives Trump and his minions believe are acceptable substitutes for basic qualities like integrity and compassion. They vacillate between bursts of excessive glazing and demonstrable lies about the president’s accomplishments, which in reality amount to little more than setting the world on fire while increasing his net worth and that of his minions by many billions.

They’re marked by telltale AI clutches, sentence construction, and the underlying rhythm of the language.

A screenshot of a text editor displaying a letter addressed to President Trump, highlighting his political influence and leadership qualities, along with a tool indicating that the text is 100% AI-generated.

Screenshot of a dashboard displaying AI detection results for a text analysis, showing 89% AI-generated content and 11% human-written content.

Every Zacharia column I ran through Pangram, the premier AI writing detection tool, came back as between 89% and 100% AI written. Perhaps most conclusively, the woman we saw bumbling through sentences equivalent to the prose of a children’s book is not capable of constructing the columns, as bad as they are.

Zacharia’s efforts were so sloppy, she didn’t bother to remove the bolding and other formatting tendencies that mark text as the output of an LLM, in this case ChatGPT:

The one portion of this text Zacharia likely edited by hand was referring to New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani as a communist rather than a democratic socialist, in a column bemoaning the fact that an election worked the way it was supposed to and the winner was the candidate chosen by voters.

Katie Zacharia is not a clever person. Anyone who thinks they can lie their way into a role that comes with national scrutiny, communicating daily to people whose job involves intellectual curiosity, really hasn’t taken into account what happens the second the story becomes about her instead of the Iran war, the midterm races or one of Trump’s other hires behaving disgracefully. Granted, there’s plenty of the latter, although even Kimberly Guilfoyle’s ignominious end as a “public servant” didn’t distract reporters and the public from the Zacharian train wreck they were watching in real time.

Unfortunately for Zacharia, the story became about her the moment she stepped up to that podium. If I were a prediction market guy, I’d put my money on Katie surviving a single Zacharia, a unit of time equal to about half a Scaramucci.

If you’re here for the first time, yes, this is a cat blog, and yes, I believe felines should serve as heads of state. The world can’t possibly be any worse under their leadership, and we’d all be much better rested.

Header image credit: The White House

Amazing Cats: Pallas Cats Are The Grumpy Little Hobbits Of The Feline World

The Gremlin-like felids have some unusual habits compared to other cats in addition to the trademark scowls that distinguish them from other feline species.

The fact that they live in burrows and crevices is the first indication that Pallas cats are the weirdos of the feline family.

The small, bushy little creatures greet the day by poking their heads out of their burrows just enough to see what’s going on. Thanks to the low profile of their ears, which stick out almost horizontally, only their eyes and tufts of frosty-looking fur are visible in those first moments.

When they’re satisfied nothing’s going to vex them further than their usual, seemingly perpetually-annoyed default, they fully emerge from their dens, and that’s when their true form becomes apparent.

Behold grumpiness incarnate:

“These kittens today, they want everything now. No patience and not a lick of common sense between ’em. Hey! Get off my lawn, you little cretins…” Credit: Wikimedia Commons

“Would it kill these dogs to clean up after themselves? Sheesh! You don’t see me defecating all over everything. When nature calls, I do what civilized cats do, find a private spot and bury my business. Hey! Hey! Don’t you dare move that rock!”

These little guys look like they start every day off getting rained on while birds with impeccable aim empty their bowls on their heads. Then they file out, each one grumbling, and engage in their species’ favorite pastime — complaining about everything, like a perpetual Airing of Grievances on Festivus or a communal bitching session about joint pain at the local senior center.

“Oh, my back! For crying out loud! They couldn’t have dug this tunnel at a more forgiving angle? Aww crap, look at the weather! Hunting in this is gonna suck. Lenny, is there any more of the rabbit from last night? No? Of course not. And we’re out of coffee again! I don’t know why I even roll out of the burrow. This place is a dump!”

First observed and written about — in the western world, at least — by Peter Simon Pallas in 1776, Pallas cats are about the same size as our domestic feline buddies, but they look stockier thanks to their heavy coats. Pallas, a Prussian explorer and naturalist, was presumably going about his day when he heard a group of these malcontents complaining from a mile or two away.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Jokes aside, Pallas cats only look angry to us because we anthropomorphize them. Difficult as it is to believe with their convincing scowls, there’s no evidence to suggest they’re actually grumpy.

The fact that they sometimes co-occupy burrows means they have a cooperative and social component to their behavior that many cat species lack. You won’t find tigers cooperatively hunting, napping in communal burrows or padding out together to greet the crepuscular morning, but that’s what Pallas cats do. That’s a pretty good indication of a sunnier disposition than their trademark scowls indicate.

Here’s a remarkably clear and close video showing a Pallas cat mom poking her head out from a burrow and making sure the coast is clear before emerging with her four cubs close behind her:

Spread throughout mainland Asia, and concentrated most heavily in Mongolia, Kyrgyzstan, Bhutan and parts of China, individual Pallas cats move between different burrows and crevices depending on the need for cover and the season. They’re found on the vast plains of Mongolia, as well as in mountains like the Himalayas and the Altai range.

They usually top out at about 10 pounds and primarily hunt rodents, pikas, shrews and other small, ground- and underground-dwelling prey, but like most cats they’re adept ambush hunters and take opportunities where they find them.

Happily, and owing partly to their remote habitats, Pallas cats are one of the few wild species that are not listed as threatened or endangered on the IUCN Red List.

Header image credit: Wikimedia Commons

Proof they don’t scowl in *every* photo. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Previously:

Amazing Cats: The Mysterious Marbled Cat
Amazing Cats: The Rusty-Spotted Cat
Amazing Cats: ‘He Who Kills With One Bound’
Amazing Cats: The Puma

Amazing Cats: The Sunda Clouded Leopard

Amazing Cats: The Adorable Colocolo, Feline of the Pampas

Amazing Cats: The ‘Fire Tiger’ Is The Stuff Of Legend

Amazing Cats: Ocelots Love Trees, Water And Calvin Klein’s Obsession For Men

Amazing Cats: The ‘Fire Tiger’ Is The Stuff Of Legend

The Asian golden cat, also known as catopuma, is an elusive medium-size wildcat with striking features and exceptional hunting abilities.

It’s extraordinarily elusive, moves with a grace superlative even among fellow felids, and enjoys mythical status in many of Asia’s cultures.

It is the Asian golden cat, a medium-size feline that calls a diverse range of places home, from the mountains of rural China to the jungles of Sumatra.

Known officially as Catopuma temminckii, the species is about three times the size of domestic cats but extremely adept at taking down much larger prey, including young water buffalo and other ungulates several times the cat’s body weight.

An Asian golden cat. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Asian golden cats inspire legends in many Asian cultures in part because of how difficult they are to find. Even the appearance of one on a trail camera in Thailand’s Khao Luang National Park this summer spawned news headlines, so rarely are they seen.

Often, as was the case with the recent sighting, they’re fleeting, just glimpses before the animals melt back into the jungle. The fire tiger seen in the June 20 trail camera footage pads across a clearing, clearly unhurried, before disappearing back into the ground cover.

In some places it’s good luck to catch a glimpse, while in other locales — like parts of Thailand — people believe a single strand of Catopuma fur is enough to protect the bearer from their larger cousins, panthera tigris. (I wouldn’t rely on that personally, but it does show how large tigers loom in the imagination in areas where they still roam the wild, even as low as their numbers are these days.)

While the Asian golden cat is known as the fire tiger in some places, it’s not a close relative of true tigers, at least not in terms of the cat family.

Catopuma is a feline, meaning it can meow and purr, but cannot roar. That puts the species closer genetically to domestic cats, pumas, ocelots, servals and other members of the feline subfamily. True big cats — tigers, lions, jaguars and leopards — are part of the pantherinae subfamily. Aside from their size, they are distinguished by their ability to roar, but they cannot purr or meow.

The Asian golden cat is a feline, but shares some physiological features with big cats

Even though catopuma is genetically closer to small- and medium-size felines, its gait, substantial tail and head shape are reminiscent of big cat features.

The ferocious medium-size cats also have a melanistic color morph that makes them look like smaller versions of jaguars and leopards.

A melanistic catopuma seen on a trail camera. Credit: Panthera

The fire tiger is classified as threatened as its habitats are destroyed to make way for more palm oil plantations, among other agricultural and industrial facilities.

Header image via Wikimedia Commons

“She’s Like,’Where Are The Snacks?'”: Smithsonian Big Cat Keeper On Working With Tigers And Lions

“Oh my God, this is my job every day!” Charlie Shaw says of his position as a big cat keeper at one of America’s most well-known and well-funded zoos.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to work with big cats, WTOP has a new interview with Charlie Shaw, a big cat keeper at the Smithsonian National Zoo.

Hint: it involves a lot of meat, physical enrichment, olfactory enrichment, and checking on the felids to make sure they’re healthy.

Shaw starts his day by feeding the hungry apex predators, including Damai, a 16-year-old tiger who wants all the snacks, and Vostok, a fast-growing young Amur tiger who doesn’t know a genetically-compatible mate is arriving in short order, and he’ll get to be a dad if things go well.

The genetic matches are carefully made to avoid inbreeding and give the species the best chance to recover.

“Tigers are critically endangered,” Shaw told WTOP. “What we want to do is make sure the gene pool itself is still very diverse.”

Vostok loves to swim. Credit: Charlie Shaw/Smithsonian National Zoo

Shaw says he’s working his dream job.

“You walk in and the tigers all chuff at you, or the lions roar. And you’re like, ‘Oh, my God, this is my job every day!’”

THAT story

I’m aware of it, and I think every person concerned about the welfare of cats should at least know it’s happening.

But it’s also extremely distressing. I actually had nightmares the night after I read it. So I’m offering a strong warning here: think about it before you click the story. The report is by CNN, so there are no gory images and the reporters aren’t trying to make anyone uncomfortable, but the reality of it is bad enough.

For everyone who doesn’t want to know the more upsetting details, the essence of it is that there’s a network of people making “content” of themselves torturing and killing cats, and a rapidly growing audience of people who pay thousands of dollars to “sponsor” the horrific content.

They have “menus” set up where people can select the cat they want to see tortured and specify the ways in which the cat should be hurt and killed. CNN, citing a group of vigilantes trying to dismantle the networks, says people pay up to $1,300 for the “service.” Collectively, the torturers and their audience refer to themselves as “cat lovers.”

The Chinese government, to no one’s surprise, does not care. There are no criminal penalties for what the content producers are doing, and the government hasn’t responded to complaints from concerned people or media networks.

I might address it in the future, but for now I don’t even know what to say. I was away when I read it, and it made me really want to hug Bud and make sure he’s never out of my care. Ever.

Another Tech Company Wants To Translate Meows And Barks Using AI: Can It Work?

Cats and dogs communicate primarily by scent, touch and body language, but human efforts to understand them have focused exclusively on meows and barks. If we want to truly understand our non-human friends, we need to take an approach that considers the other ways animals “talk” to each other.

A few years ago when MeowTalk made a minor splash in the startup world, I was pretty bullish on its potential to help us understand our cats better.

Sure, the app had an unhelpful habit of attributing improbably loving declarations to Buddy, but I thought it would follow the trajectory of other machine learning models and drastically improve as it accumulated more data.

More users meant the app would record and analyze more meows, chirps and trills, meaning it was just a matter of time before the AI would be able to distinguish between an “I want attention!” meow and a “My bowl is dangerously close to empty!” meow.

Obviously that didn’t happen, and what I personally didn’t take into account back then — and should have, given how obvious it is in retrospect — is that cats don’t just communicate via vocalizations.

In fact, cats don’t normally incorporate vocalizations into communication at all. Pet kitties do it entirely for our benefit because they know we’re generally awful at interpreting body language and we are completely useless when it comes to olfactory information.

It’s actually amazing when you really think about how much of the heavy lifting cats do in our efforts to communicate with each other. They recognize we can’t communicate the way they do naturally, so they try to relate to us on our terms. In return, we meet them less than halfway.

No wonder Buddy sometimes looks frustrated as he meows at me, as if I’m the biggest moron in the world for not understanding the very obvious thing he’s trying to tell me.

“Human, how can you not understand the simple feeling of innerer schweinehund I’m trying to convey here? The cringe is killing me!”

Now the Chinese tech giant Baidu is throwing its hat into the ring after filing a patent in China for an AI system that uses machine learning to decode animal communication and “translate” it to human language.

Machines are designed to process things from a human viewpoint according to human logic, so if Baidu wants to succeed where MeowTalk has not, its engineers will need to take a thoughtful approach with the help of animal behavior experts.

This is a hard problem that encompasses animal cognition, neuroscience, linguistics, biology, biochemistry and even philosophy. If they approach this strictly as a tech challenge, they’ll set themselves up for failure.

Without the information and context clues provided by tails, whiskers, facial expressions, posture, eye dilation, heart rate, pheromones and even fur, an AI system is only getting a fraction of the information cats are trying to convey.

Trying to glean meaning from that is like trying to read a book in which only every fourth or fifth letter is legible. There’s just too much missing information.

Even if we can train machines to analyze sound visual, tactile and olfactory information, it may not be possible to truly translate what our cats are saying to us. We may have to settle for approximations. We’ve only begun to guess at how the world is interpreted differently among human beings thanks to things like qualia and neurodivergence, and the way cats and dogs see the world is undoubtedly more strange to us than the way a neurodivergent person might make sense of reality.

“He grimaced. He had drawn a greedy old character, a tough old male whose mind was full of slobbering thoughts of food, veritable oceans full of half-spoiled fish. Father Moontree had once said that he burped cod liver oil for weeks after drawing that particular glutton, so strongly had the telepathic image of fish impressed itself upon his mind. Yet the glutton was a glutton for danger as well as for fish. He had killed sixty-three Dragons, more than any other Partner in the service, and was quite literally worth his weight in gold.” – Cordwainer Smith, The Game of Rat and Dragon

An animal’s interpretation of reality may be so psychologically alien that most of its communication may be apples to oranges at best. Which is why I always loved Cordwainer Smith’s description of the feline mind as experienced via a technology that allows humans with special talents to share thoughts with cats in his classic short story, The Game of Rat and Dragon.

In the story, humans are a starfaring civilization and encounter a threat in the void between stars that people don’t have the reaction speed to deal with. Cats, however, are fast and swift enough, and with a neural bridge device, teams of humans paired with cats are able to keep passengers safe on interstellar journeys.

The narrator, who is one of the few people with an affinity for teaming up with felines, hopes he’ll be paired with one of his two favorite cats for his latest mission, but instead he’s assigned to partner with an old glutton of a tomcat whose mind was dominated by “slobbering thoughts of food, veritable oceans of half-spoiled fish.”

The narrator wryly notes that the last time one of his colleagues was paired with that particular cat, his burps tasted of fish for weeks afterward. But the cat in question, despite being obsessed with fish, is a badass at killing “dragons,” the human nickname for the bizarre entities that attack human ships in space. (The software that allows felines and humans to link thoughts also portrays the “dragons” as rodents in the minds of the cats, stimulating their ancient predatory drive so they’ll attack instantly when they see the enemy.)

We can’t know for sure if Smith’s interpretation of the feline mind is accurate, but another part rang true when he wrote that cat thoughts were all about the moment, filled with sentiments of warmth and affection, while they rapidly lost interest in thoughts about human concerns, dismissing them “as so much rubbish.”

If the mind of a cat is that relatable, we’ll be incredibly lucky. But in reality we’re dealing with animals who evolved in drastically different ecological niches, with different priorities, motivations, and ways of looking at the world — literally and figuratively.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to understand our furry friends. Research has yielded interesting information about the way animals like whales and elephants communicate, and AI is at its best when it augments human creativity and curiosity instead of trying to replace it.

Even if we don’t end up with a way to glean 1:1 translations, the prospect of improving our understanding of animal minds is tantalizing enough. We just need to make sure we’re listening to everything they’re saying, not just the meows.