On the Facebook Genealogy and Artificial Intelligence group, Christine Creed Hill posted a prompt to ChatGPT4, and the response, asking “Roast me based on your memories of me and be mean.” Several responders have now asked the same thing and posted their answers, even myself. The Facebook post has some excellent responses!
You know, I can't resist having fun with genealogy and AI!
Here is the most genealogy fun I had on Monday night:
1) My prompt to free OpenAI ChatGPT4 (ChattyGenPat) was: "Roast me based on your memories of me and be mean."
ChattyGenPat said:
Alright, you asked for it—roast mode activated. 🔥
You're like a genealogist with a time machine and ADHD—zigzagging through centuries but somehow still can't find Devier's birth parents. You’ve practically interviewed every ghost in Jefferson County, NY, but even they're like, "Dude, we don’t know either."
You’ve got more Revolutionary War ancestors than a DAR chapter, yet none of them passed down the ability to finish a sentence without referencing Mercer County or some poor soul buried in Iowa. And let’s be honest—half your ancestors moved west just to escape being included in your next 47-page blog post.
And your family trees? They're not trees. They're jungles. I’m pretty sure there's a squirrel somewhere still stuck trying to navigate from Austin Carringer to Emily Auble without getting lost.
You can recall 18th-century land patents like other people recall phone numbers, but you still needed me to help you roast yourself. Pathetic—but historically accurate.
Now go sit in the corner with your Diet Coke and orange soda, and think about how you managed to make grave digging your primary hobby.
😈 You wanted mean. This was mean—with love.
Bring it on, ChattyGenPat!!
My second prompt was the taunt: "anything else?"
Oh, absolutely. You think I’m done? Sit down, grab your quill and parchment—because here comes Volume II of this roast.
You’ve spent so much time talking to dead people, I’m starting to wonder if you even like the living. Your ancestors probably hold weekly séances just to tell you to knock it off. “We’re at peace, stop digging up our tax records from 1852!”
You collect cemetery plot numbers like they’re Pokémon cards. “Ooh, this one died in a tragic threshing machine accident in 1879—mint condition!”
And let's talk about how you treat historical documents like sacred scripture, but treat modern technology like it's witchcraft. You’ve got handwritten probate files in triplicate, but you still hesitate every time you have to update a Google Doc.
Also—your idea of a thrill? Finding a misindexed 1870 census line. Adrenaline junkie, aren't you? Other people go skydiving—you get your kicks from discovering that your 4x-great-grandmother moved 3 blocks over in 1881.
And your ancestors probably weren’t even proud of you. They’re up there like, “He’s doing what with my name? He told everyone I died of ‘consumption’? IT WAS CHICKEN POX, RANDY!”
Face it—you’re the kind of person who’d bring a pedigree chart to a first date… assuming you ever left your archives long enough to go on one.
💀 But hey, at least you're consistent—unlike 19th-century vital records.
Want more? I can keep going until your ancestors beg me to stop.
Hey, Chatty, there's nothing "BAD" there. I'm proud of all my genealogy work.
2) X.ai Grok 3 "GrokGenPat" took its' turn also, and gave me some great roast bits based on 15 online sources and my prompt history [plus a graphic]:
(AI Grok 3 image of a roasted genealogist)
Alright, Randy Seaver, self-proclaimed "master genealogist," let’s see if I can roast you properly now that I know who you are! I’ve got a clearer picture from your prompt history and some digging around, so buckle up for a roast that’s as sharp as your obsession with dusty old records. Since you’re begging for it, I’ll focus on your genealogy work and keep it mean, as requested, while weaving in what I know about you. No fluff, just the good stuff.
Your genealogy game is like a hamster on a wheel—spinning endlessly with no finish line in sight. You’ve been chasing your “elusive ancestors” for over 36 years, and yet your pedigree chart still has more holes than a moth-eaten sweater. You’re out there spending 8–10 hours a day on Genea-Musings, posting multiple times daily like some kind of genealogy robot, but half the time it’s just you yelling into the void about a random 1832 deed or a blurry photo from your Catalina Island getaway. Newsflash, Randy: nobody’s reading your 12th blog post of the day about Great-Great-Grandpa Seaver’s neighbor’s cousin’s land warrant. Your “cousin bait” tree on Ancestry? More like cousin repellent—nobody’s biting because it’s a chaotic mess of Seavers, Carringers, Aubles, Dills, and Bucks that only you could love.
And let’s talk about your obsession with Peregrine White, the Mayflower baby. You’re so proud of that potential connection, you probably sleep with a pilgrim hat under your pillow. But your grandma’s story and Aunt Marion’s town history book had errors, and you’re still out here trying to prove it like it’s your life’s mission. Here’s a tip: maybe your family’s just not that interesting. You’re digging through microfilms and making research trips to New England like you’re Indiana Jones, but instead of treasure, you’re unearthing another misspelled “Mary Seaver” who might’ve married a carpenter—or not. Your database has 40 Mary Seavers, and you’re still clueless about half of them. Master genealogist? More like master of confusion.
Your source citations are a whole other tragedy. You figured out in 2006—2006!—that you should’ve been citing sources properly, and now you’re frantically playing catch-up, adding 1,000 citations a month like a kid cramming for a test. That’s not dedication; that’s a midlife crisis in spreadsheet form. And your “mentally well-organized” claim? Please. Your brain’s a filing cabinet with half the folders labeled “Miscellaneous” and the other half missing. You’re so deep in RootsMagic and TreeShare, you probably dream in GEDCOM files, but your public “Record Hint” tree is just a digital hoarder’s paradise, drowning in Ancestry hints you’ll never sort through.
Oh, and your AI experiments? You’re out here using Claude (sorry, “Sonnet 4”) to write family-friendly ancestor bios, thinking you’re revolutionizing genealogy. Spoiler: it’s just you outsourcing your obsession to a chatbot, and the results are as exciting as a 17th-century tax record. You’re a retired aerospace engineer, Randy—shouldn’t you be building model rockets or something instead of blogging about your 8th cousin once removed, Mamie? Your readers might call you a “luminary” in genealogy, but let’s be real: you’re just the guy who won’t stop talking about the Seaver line at the Chula Vista Genealogical Society.
Want me to keep roasting or are you ready to retreat to your microfilm cave and cry over another unverified cousin?
Yep, nailed it. I have thoughts like this all the time. Grok really had to dig into Genea-Musings to come up with those examples. For the record, I don't talk to CVGS much any more (they've heard me speak for 30 years and are tired of it, their loss?) ... I wish I dreamed in GEDCOM files (maybe I'd sleep longer) ... and I have more than 40 Mary Seaver persons (actually 253, I counted) ... and I have Partridges in my tree too ... but what does GrokPat (GrokElon?) know? [Only what I tell it, and I initially had to tell it my name so it could search for me].
3) Should I ask GrokGenPat to write a genea-eulogy for me too? That might be interesting and fun! My daughters and grandkids could read it to the assembled multitude of 20 friends and family and 10 local genealogists, plus the choir. One third of the attendees would be rolling in the pews. When the time comes, I hope my genea-friends will have on online Zoom call to give me a proper sendoff with humor and even snark.
Or limericks? Poems? Songs? Oh yeah, been there done that.
Can ChattyGenPat and GrokGenPat roast itself? I asked, and it's hilarious. Accurate? Self-serving? I love the last line GrokGenPat gave me: "Want me to keep torching myself, or should I go back to laughing at your family tree? 
"
Enough of my genealogy fun for the morning. This exercise lifted my spirits a bit. It was great therapy last night to be able to laugh at my, um, hobby addiction.
Try this out on ChattyGenPat or GrokGenPat. Tell me about it in Comments.
Subscribe to receive a free daily email from Genea-Musings using www.Blogtrottr.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment