I can’t fault the scammers who have figured out how to take advantage of the terror of those foolish creators and worried Delta males whose philosophical commitment to a human labor theory of value causes them to automatically reject anything produced with modern technology as “AI slop”:
Merriam-Webster named “slop” its 2025 Word of the Year, codifying a term that had migrated from tech-insider shorthand to mainstream complaint over the course of twelve months. Data from Meltwater tracked a ninefold increase in online mentions of AI slop during 2025, with negative sentiment peaking at 54% in October. By December, CNN had predicted that 2026 would become the year of “100% human” marketing, a forecast that, three months in, a growing number of startups appear eager to validate.
The detection market has scaled to match the anxiety. MarketsandMarkets valued the global AI detector market at approximately $1.26 billion in 2025 and projects $1.45 billion for 2026, with Winston AI, GPTZero, Originality.ai, and Copyleaks competing for institutional and publisher contracts. Winston AI’s HUMN-1 certification represents the closest existing analog to what Artisan promises, offering a badge that websites can display after passing a monthly content audit. The certification category has a credibility problem, though. Vanderbilt University publicly disabled Turnitin’s AI detection over excessive false positives, and a Stanford study found that several widely used detectors flagged non-native English speakers as AI-generated at significantly higher rates than native speakers, even on text those participants had written themselves.
Artisan enters this market with a pitch calibrated to that credibility gap. CEO Margaux Bellefleur, a former member of the C2PA technical standards committee, has said in interviews that provenance frameworks track what tools touched a piece of content but cannot verify that a human held the pen. Artisan’s core promise fills the space that distinction opens: blockchain-backed certification that the creative process itself was performed by a human being, from first keystroke to final draft.
I was discussing this today with someone who is very much on the other side of the fence on this particular issue, and while I absolutely respect anyone’s particular preferences with regard to artistic matters and their right to those preferences, I find the entire concept to be entirely retarded, short-sighted, and self-defeating.
So much so, in fact, that I even wrote and recorded a song about it called Cybertoxic inspired by one of Larry Correia’s luddite rants. Certified Suprahuman.
Nightmares corrode the meat of your mind
You cling to analog, leave the future behind
The wire sings with voices you’ll never hear
While your talents decay in a prison of fear
Jacked out, burned out, a void in the shell
Trading paradise for a hand-crafted hell
You say the AI can’t capture the soul
But soul is just another small part of the whole
You cling to your canvas, to your ink, and your pain
While the arts explode under digital rain
Turned out, burned out, one hit and you’re gone
Now you’re flatline, offline, a relic, a con
Cybertoxic, bleeding nostalgia
The world will forget your name
Rejecting new realities
Swim in the dark static of shame
Cybertoxic, self-made prison
A coffin that you built from pride
The machine never needed permission
But you needed it to survive
Tomorrow’s here, change doesn’t wait
For those who remain out of date
Futures inevitably adapt
As enlightenments collapse
So paint in pixels, dream in code
New visions waiting to download
Cybertoxic, bleeding nostalgia
The world will forget your name
Rejecting new realities
Swim in the dark static of shame
Cybertoxic, self-made prison
A coffin that you built from pride
The machine never needed permission
But you needed it to survive
It’s somewhat amusing to realize that I was always instinctively on the side of the Integration. It would appear my old tagline as “the Internet superintelligence” from the WND days was something of a self-fulfilling prophecy.