Ned Pamphilon plays with ideas verbally and graphically.

Artificial is the adjective being joined to the word Intelligence, the soulless machine feed being referred to as intelligence. It is not intelligent having no connection to any soul. There is artifice, but only an attempt to deceive users. The output is only as instructed, and cannot reach your heart, let alone your soul. It cannot tell the wood from the trees, just muddle them together using words that might please a university essayist.

English people know.

The British state and its world government hope the people will be duped, and they can hide behind their expensive attempt at mass deception inside an outpourring of meaningless verbiage.