Field notes

Rob Burke

Latest side quest: Oct 2026

AI agents, side quests, and 25 years of synthetic characters

Packaged SPAM musubi rice balls on a Japanese convenience store shelf.

Side Quests · Aug 2026 · No. 15

AI-isms Defence

Keeping the cringe out of AI writing is a moving target (and likely Sisyphean task) but I’m making progress

Try it yourself
  1. Open Simon Willison’s LLM cliche highlighter.
  2. Paste in a page you wrote before 2023, then a page an AI assistant drafted for you. Note how many hits each gets.
  3. Review the “hits” in your older writing too: some modern-day “AI-isms” will be “you-isms” that are there on purpose.

I write these posts. Of course I ask AI for feedback, criticism and wordsmithing. Increasingly frustrated by the current flavour of AI slop cringe, I stumbled upon Simon Willison’s tool that highlights LLM cliches: 38 patterns, from “delve” and “testament to” through the tells catalogued in Wikipedia’s Signs of AI writing guide.

I have various levels of AI-ism defence throughout my life and, finding Simon’s tool, took the chance to consolidate them. Now I use 1 catalogue of machine-tell writing patterns, a linter that detects and counts them, and staged wiring into every place where an AI writes prose for human readers.

It didn’t work.

The slop that most vexes me is a different dialect than Simon’s tells defend against. I call it “fable-speak” and it’s a sort of consultant-y syrup. Simon’s corpus (rightly) targets blog-voice cliches, which bristle, but when I ran it against 24,000 words of prose produced by an automated system I run daily (which has a few home-built safeguards already), it produced almost nothing.

Claude (ironically) observed: ‘The house dialect, which Rob named fable-speak, is condensed analyst voice: appositive corrections of the shape “your call, comma, not a detail”, claimed-honesty framings like “the honest read”, whole clauses set in bold, and coined hyphen chains. Four locally-authored patterns now cover it; the measurements that justify each one, and the candidates that were rejected, are in [my local stash] dialect-notes.md.’

At one point I fed it my old writing (including my thesis from 2001) and asked it to find the AI-ism patterns in the stash. My writing from pre-LLM era sat between 0.0 and 0.1 counted hits per 100 words everywhere; the slop corpora sat between 0.4 and 5.8.

For fun, here’s some 2001-era Rob prose that now classifies as “slop”:

  • a colon-triple: “…described in Figure 11 has three drives: hunger, pain avoidance, and curiosity…” – in a paragraph where there really were three things being enumerated.
  • stacked-questions: “when to do it? what to do it to? how long to do it? why do it: what will be the future results?” – a rhetorical enumeration structuring a section. Genuinely using a device that slop overuses (I used it once, in 30,000 words).
  • a no-chain: “there are no rules, and no way to ask ‘how close did we get?’” – that was an actual statement about two absent things, not a “no fluff, no filler” dose o’ slop.
  • turns-out: “when that explanation (in the form of a Predictor) turns out to be erroneous” – “turns out to be” used here as a plain verb phrase, not the “Turns out, X” AI reveal.

That last one is a good example of how ‘AI tells’ resist regex.

I tried having Claude write this post, in my voice from notes. The cringe was real; I ended up rewriting it top to bottom. Claude’s hook was fun though: it took that Spam photo from our trip to Japan (which is its own side quest full of AI wins I need to write up). Claude ended with “you tell me if the musubi is any good.”