Is AI art like the invention of photography in the mid 19th century, or is it more like the invention of the atomic bomb, or leaded gasoline, or cheap acryllic paint?

Are people who dislike AI like antique court painters lamenting the end of classical training and still lives when the reality was that artists were then free to express themselves in previously unimagined ways?

Or are they more like environmentalists calling attention to the hole in the ozone layer, or strategists discussing the delicate balance of terror resulting from nuclear weapons? 

I’ve read enough science fiction to have a decent sense for just how out of control a poorly understood bit of technology can get. Heck, I’ve read enough modern history to know a bit about it. 

In anycase the process of AI art making has been compelling enough to me to be seriously distracting. I missed my blog for the first time since January and I’m having a hard time writing right now because of it. I’m not sure if that’s because of the constant pings of updating drafts or the fact that I’ve been staring at a computer screen for far too long as it endlessly pings to show me new hallucinatory illustrations.

I dodged this distraction by writing a post this morning.
Maybe I’ll start doing that before the AI puts my brain onto a frying pan of sizzling content.