In an above average example of metonymy, a commentator has defined American culture without intending to: The commentator complains that the same company that created the artificial intelligence engine famous for being able to turn out texts easily as competent as, even indeed reminiscent of, bureaucrats and harried philistines, from prompts of just a few words—and for thereby getting passing grades at the business school the former president claims to have attended prior to somehow going bankrupt while operating a casino— which is to say the artificial intelligence engine famous for democratizing precisely the same intellectual laziness that led to its creation, an artificial intelligence engine that has, lately, greatly worried the handful of academics who still concern themselves with learning and teaching—this commentator is such a person, or must pretend to be such a person so as to be able to claim to have written the article in question—has now also created an artificial intelligence engine that can, with what is said to be reasonable accuracy, determine whether it itself wrote a text fed to it, or whether instead the text was written by a person; this new artificial intelligence engine was tested by being fed the Book of Genesis—engineers everywhere have senses of humor others, not engineers, find grating—which the artificial intelligence engine determined it had written. The article complains that technology has once again succeeded in creating a problem and then selling the solution to the problem it created; the artificial intelligence engine, once in every four tries, has this advantage over the article: the article cannot recognize itself in its own complaints.