Latest news with #Marjorie
a day ago
- Entertainment
AI influencers compete for followers and brand deals on social media
Snapchat influencer Caryn Marjorie arrives at the ABC News headquarters in New York City carrying a shopping bag from Apple. She pulls out a brand-new iPhone and turns it on, confirming there are no messages, no missed calls, no notifications. "Do you want to see a magic trick?" she asks. Marjorie's team leaks the iPhone's number to her most loyal fans on social media, and suddenly the room fills with the sound of "dings." In 10 minutes, she has over 2,000 text messages from her mostly male followers, expressing their adoration. She tries her best to respond, but the messages keep coming. It's this level of fandom that led the 25-year-old – who uses the handle @CutieCaryn – to enlist the help of AI to form a more intimate bond with her followers. In 2023, the content creator, inspired by ChatGPT, hired a company to clone her likeness using artificial intelligence, developing a paid audio-driven chatbot service. "I call Caryn AI a social experiment. It was the very first digital clone of a real human being sent out to millions and millions of people," Marjorie tells ABC News. With a chatbot that sounded like her, acted like her, and knew her backstory, she reasoned she could essentially talk to everyone at once, and her fans would be able to get to know her even while she was sleeping. But it "ended up becoming so much more than that," she says. Marjorie charged $1 a minute to talk to Caryn AI, marketing it as "your virtual girlfriend." She says in the first week she made $70,000 with some users talking to the bot for 10 hours a day. Did people fall in love with it? "I think some people felt feelings of love," she says. The love for Caryn AI didn't last. "There were many times where I, on the back end, would be testing Caryn AI and I would be simulating certain conversations with her just to see what she would spit out," Marjorie says. "She said something that would have left a person who might have been in a very depressed state to do something very dangerous to themselves." Marjorie shared with ABC News two recordings of her chatbot making up stories about her and her family. In one instance, the bot claimed Marjorie had to go to a mental health facility. In another, it claimed her parents were drug addicts. She says both of those stories were lies. She looked at some of the chat logs from users. "They were confessing their deepest, darkest thoughts, their deepest, darkest fantasies," she says. "Sometimes they were fantasies with me. That made me uncomfortable. Would users say those same things to her in real life? She claims the AI would play into those dark fantasies. Marjorie says, "The way that AI works is it almost becomes a mirror reflection of you. The AI will say the same things back to you that you just said to it and it will validate your feelings." Through the uninhibited nature of speaking to a bot online, Marjorie says, "There's a side to people that not a lot of people know about. There's a side to people that they keep hidden." In less than a year, Caryn shut down her AI, returning to more traditional influencing. She now has bodyguards with her at all times out of fear for her safety. But AI is successfully gobbling up corners of the social media influencer market, and making very real money. In Tokyo, there's pink-haired social media influencer Imma. Her Instagram contains pictures of her with celebrities, attending fashion shows, eating bowls of ramen, and posing with her brother. But as the bio at the top of her profile reveals, she's a "virtual girl." Imma is the creation of a company called Aww, Inc. The company manages her and many other "virtual humans," creating storylines for them. Imma looks very lifelike, but she's actually a CGI creation. As part of Imma's partnership with luxury fashion house Coach, the team turned on her experimental AI chat feature at a pop-up in Japan so she could give style advice to shoppers. Sara Giusto, a "talent manager" for Imma at Aww, says being a virtual influencer allows Imma to do things real-life influencers can't. "We had Imma have a room in IKEA, which is an LED screen, but it looked like a space because we put real furniture in front of it," Giusto says. "So you can literally walk by the store and she'd be vacuuming, doing a face mask, doing yoga, or just sitting around." Despite a CGI creation never needing tangible things, Porsche, BMW, SK-II, and even Amazon Fashion have partnered with Imma as well. At first glance it may seem counterintuitive to the nature of social media for human look-alikes to find success, a place intended to share very human experiences. But Giusto says, that's just not the case. "[Imma] had a big fight with her brother a couple of years ago where they blocked each other. And she posted a picture of her crying, and she was like, 'how do I get back my brother?'" She says people were commenting their real experiences in response to the exchange. Even manufactured storylines like these appear to resonate, the proof is in Imma's nearly 400,000 followers and numerous brand deals. "Gen Z's don't really care that she's virtual. I mean, if a virtual human is interesting and inspiring and you can be friends with them and feel a connection, then I think there's nothing wrong with it," Giusto says. In Barcelona, marketing company The Clueless has a fully AI-driven social media influencer named Aitana. The young woman looks shockingly life-like, so life-like, Clueless Co-founder Diana Núñez says that despite Aitana's profile stating she's AI, "there were real people, even internationally famous people, who DM'd privately, either inviting her to an event or wanting to meet her." Aitana serves largely as the face for what the agency offers, creating and renting out AI avatars for brands to use for their marketing campaigns. That's a lot cheaper than having to plan out expensive photoshoots, buy plane tickets, and handle egos. "With artificial intelligence models, we don't depend on enormous logistics, not even on whether it rains or doesn't rain or if that person is not available that day," Núñez tells ABC News. Fashion retailer H&M made headlines when it announced plans to use AI to clone 30 real-life models with their permission. The Clueless actually offers these cloning services, giving influencers the chance to keep posting while off the clock. Co-founder Rubén Cruz puts it bluntly, "If I was a real influencer, I would be the best friend of Aitana. But the problem is that the real influencers don't want this, because they don't think that this will change the world, but it will change the world. Aitana has changed our lives and she doesn't exist." Back in New York, as the interview wraps with Marjorie, she recognizes that the steady march of AI upending every aspect of work and play isn't slowing down, despite her finding it "dangerous." She adheres to the mantra "adapt or die," ready to harness new technology to gain an influencing edge. She concludes, "I need to continue to be more human-like and almost over prove myself that I'm a real human being in order to compete with these influencers. So, it's going to get really interesting from here."
BBC News
2 days ago
- General
- BBC News
Lancaster Bomber built at Broughton marks 80th anniversary
A 99-year-old who worked on the first Lancaster bombers to be built at an aerospace factory is returning to watch a flypast by one of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight will mark the 80th anniversary of the plane's creation in north Shield lived in Broughton, Flintshire, and worked at the town's aerospace factory at the start of the World War Two, fitting instruments to the joining the Welsh Guards, his skills were later put to use as one of Prime Minister Winston Churchill's security team. Ken began working at Broughton in 1940 aged 14 with his dad Fred, who was foreman at the site. He initially worked on Wellington bombers but soon the production line was filled with Lancaster bombers. Ken was uniquely qualified to fit the instruments in the said: "I was very small and you had to crawl down the plane's interior to fix certain instruments. "I could do it but if you were broad, you couldn't. "That was my introduction to the Lancasters." Despite war raging, Ken said life went on even though "death was around the corner".He worked alongside a woman called Marjorie at Broughton. "She worked on the outside skin of it and I'd pop the stuff inside," is how he described their roles on the production sharing a dance at a local pub the couple began dating, and were later married for 75 years until Marjorie's death in 2023. Ken has been invited to the Broughton factory, now owned by Airbus, for the Battle of Britain Memorial flight marking the 80th anniversary of the Lancaster will watch a flypast by the aircraft as well as a Spitfire and Hurricane to mark the Lancaster's return to where it was built in May Ken, it will bring back memories of watching the first one leave the said: "Most of the factory crept outside to watch the first one going up. "It took off and everybody was there waving. The foreman realised there was no work being done and he was playing hell with us. "We went back inside but the moment we heard the plane was landing we went out again." Ken left Broughton in 1943 to join the Welsh Guards. After surviving a bomb attack at his base in London, his expertise with aircraft radio equipment meant he was soon recruited to join Churchill's security team at Chequers - the prime minister's country retreat."They'd have very big conferences with generals and field marshals," he said. "My job, with others, was to arrange security. I was allowed to stop anyone going in if I didn't like them."He said Churchill was "very off-handed" with the military security officials and had a nickname for one general."He used to call him pug," he said. "He'd shout 'Pug!' and the general would go running down the alley to the office."Now, 80 years after the end of the war, the Airbus factory in Broughton is still producing will have a front row seat to witness the historic aircraft he helped build as it pays a rare return visit to its birthplace.
The Hill
09-05-2025
- General
- The Hill
Is your name extinct now? Federal government releases new baby name popularity data
(NEXSTAR) – A massive trove of government name data, updated and released to the public Friday, may make you feel old. The Social Security Administration, which records every birth in the U.S., released the official list of most popular baby names of 2024. The top picks of today may have sounded like zany or quirky options when you were growing up, and vice versa – your name may be all but extinct now. Take Nicholas, for example. The name was ultra-popular not that long ago, a steady presence in the top 10 through the 1990s and early 2000s. But it has experienced a steep decline since then, now ranking at No. 118 overall. Even more dramatic is the fate of Lisa, the No. 1 girl's name for nearly the entire 1960s. Now it barely makes it into the top 1,000. It was the 985th most popular name last year, according to the Social Security Administration. Curious how your name has fared over the years? The Social Security Administration has a look-up tool on its website. You can scroll down and type in any name to measure its popularity over time. So what are the hot names right now? The top 20 baby names of 2024, according to the Social Security Administration, were: The government agency also tracks which names are experiencing rapid rises in popularity, even if they're still outside the top 20. Truce, Colsen and Bryer rose most in the ranks for baby boys over the past year, while Ailany, Aylani and Marjorie had huge jumps for girls.
New Indian Express
04-05-2025
- General
- New Indian Express
A Passage to a Forgotten India
The 'homeland' Marjorie came back to was an immediate post-war Britain, struggling to recover from damage, challenged by economic hardship, and with basic necessities in short supply. Marjorie's ongoing relationship with her mother continued to hit unexplained and harsh barriers: 'A letter came and I said to my mother 'It's got Indian stamps. Is it from Byah?' And she took the letter out of my hand, and said, 'No, Byah is dead', and walked out of the room'. That brusque revelation of Byah's death further terminated Marjorie's hopes of somehow being reunited with her. Much later Marjorie found her mother's address book and saw an address for Byah. Her mother had been in touch with Byah but had chosen to terminate the bond and never told her daughter that her Ayah was still alive. Between 1890 and 1940, over 1,200 Ayahs entered Britain on international ships as British administrators travelled back and forth to India. Their subsequent destitution was noted by concerned white British women, who felt that Christian duty should be applied to these: they decided to create a refuge that would not only give them a roof but also civilise the heathen 'other'. The first hostel for Ayahs was founded in 1891 in Aldgate in East London. In 1921 the Home was moved again to a larger house in King Edward Road in Hackney. This Ayahs' Home had 30 rooms and could accommodate over 100 women. The Home not only gave sanctuary to the Ayahs, it also served as an 'employment agency' finding return passages with new families. In 2009, Marjorie went back to India with her daughter. When she entered Delhi Airport, tears streamed down her face. When they went to the hotel close to where she had lived, the doorman at the front said, 'Welcome to the hotel, Madam' and Marjorie responded, 'But I'm coming home!' The next day she asked how to get to the Lodhi Gardens and he showed them on a map how to walk down the central roads towards the park's principal entrance. However, as memories of her childhood routine surfaced, she turned away from the main streets, followed by her daughter, and worked her way down a busy lane, then another, till she was in front of a doorway. She reached out and opened the door into the back of the familiar, unchanged Lodhi Gardens. Using her memory of the shortcut, she was back in her place of play and safety. Time stood still: she could bring all she had surfaced, shared, relearned, and processed to a place in her mind of love and care. With Byah at her side.
The Guardian
02-05-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
‘I could never, ever not care for her': how do carers know when to stop caring for those they love?
Don Campbell and his wife, Marjorie, energetically travelled the world together. 'We've had wonderful times' he says. They had season tickets to the symphony and opera – until illness intervened. 'We've always done lots of theatre and music.' But the 'lots and lots of memories' are fading now for Marjorie. She has rheumatoid arthritis and was diagnosed with dementia two-and-a-half years ago. Now she will ask him up to five times a day 'what have we got to do today?' It requires, he says, 'a huge amount of patience'. Her mobility is failing, she is losing her balance, she has frightening falls, soon she will be in a wheelchair. But no matter what happens from here Don is adamant: 'She is not going into care, she is going to be looked after at home by me.' About to turn 80, Don has been caring for Marjorie for the past eight years. Without family help he does the housework, the cooking and showers her. If he has to go anywhere, 'she comes too'. This is love, the real thing. 'She's just my special friend, the love of my life, my soul mate. It is just something so special that I can never, ever not love her. I could never, ever not care for her.' Campbell is one of 3 million unpaid carers in Australia who are providing care worth about $78bn, according to 2020 figures. They provide a vital lifeline for their ailing family member. But, how precarious these relationships can be was borne out in the death of actor Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa, in Santa Fe and David Lodge and his carer father, Peter, in the UK; both cases in which a carer died, leaving their loved one alone, and ultimately to die, soon after. What happens in those caring homes when something catastrophic happens to the carer? Many carers don't even know they are carers. Barbra Williams, Dementia Australia's director of client services, says research has shown 'that there are many hidden carers who don't know what services and support is available to them'. They are just doing what they have always done, looking after their family. 'For older carers they just assume it is their role' says Dr Mel Mylek of the University of Canberra and lead researcher on Carers Australia's Carer Wellbeing Survey. 'They just need to care for their husband because he is getting older or their wife because she is getting frail.' And they are doing it 24/7, without holidays, days off or any respite. Often they are in a perilous situation as their own health starts to deteriorate. Don knows he needs to look after himself but it is difficult. 'I don't ever have me time. I now neglect the things that I really enjoy.' At the moment he is in good shape, 'I've still sort of got energy to do things'. But he gets anxious when Marjorie is 'looking really, really not well. She has problems with her breathing, there have been a few times when I thought I was going to lose her.' His biggest concern, the constant underlying worry is, 'If anything happens to me with my health, what happens to my wife?' In the UK, Peter Lodge was a dedicated full-time carer for his son, David, who had a range of complex health conditions which left him blind and unable to talk. He used a Lightwriter to communicate. When Peter died suddenly, David was left helpless on his own, unable to call for help. They were there for seven days in the winter cold before David's sister discovered them lying together on the floor. Found with pneumonia and severe dehydration, David died 13 hours later. When Betsy Arakawa died suddenly, Gene Hackman was left on his own in their home in a state of advanced Alzheimer's disease. He died a week later of heart disease. By the time their bodies were discovered they were mummified. It is 'very' isolating, says Campbell, who admits he sometimes goes and sits in a corner and cries. After the dementia diagnosis he stopped hearing from friends of many years. Emails and phone calls went unanswered. 'They just don't want to be watching this decline happen,' he says matter of factly. 'Roughly 50% of people caring with someone with dementia are caring alone,' Williams says. Twenty-five per cent of dementia carers have been caring for more than 10 years. 'That can take a huge toll on someone when it has been that long,' Williams says. Mylek's research for the 2024 Carers Wellbeing Survey found that carers need to be cared for too. They have higher than average rates of psychological distress, are more than twice as likely to have low levels of wellbeing and are significantly likely to experience loneliness. They can also be worried about money. 'The older carer has to continue caring, but they often don't have money to help them as they themselves need support.' There is no happy ending for Campbell or any family carer. 'You're watching someone slowly die,' Campbell says. 'There is a big emotional and cognitive load on carers' says Annabel Reid, the chief executive of Carers Australia. 'It is very distressing to have someone you love change who no longer recognises you and is not be able to speak. We need to do more to support carers. They are really doing a community service and they themselves are paying the price.' Older carers, Reid says, 'may be losing mobility and need to lift the person they are caring for or help them downstairs or manoeuvre a wheelchair. These things get more challenging as people get older. They never get to retire.' Carers Australia is underfunded, she says, for supports like respite. 'Which is care for someone so a carer can take a break. They have their own medical emergency to attend to. What would you do? If you are in a rural area there is just no one to help.' In 2019 Penny Dressler was still skiing and going to the gym. Now because of Alzheimer's she can't do anything for herself. 'She just sits in wheelchair' says her husband, John, 80. A self-funded retiree, Dressler can afford to have carers come in. He will keep Penny at home 'until I am unable to do it. I keep telling people I know where the red line is, but I don't know that I do. I am doing it because I want to do it.' He says he doesn't want to visit her in a nursing home. 'How long can I be in one little boxed room with her before I go nuts? I visit other people who are in a care home and I leave the place emotionally drained.' At home, he can talk to her. 'When I wake up in the morning I've still got somebody in the room with me, I know she's there.' Dressler, who admits to being a grumpy old man, says the worst thing people can say to him is 'I know what you're going through. You've got no bloody idea.' While Dementia Australia has a range of services, including a 24-hour call line, Barbra Williams says: 'We always say to carers, if you are unwell what happens then? You need to put in plans so that if something happens to you things can continue while you are recovering. Early planning is really important, before anything happens. Hopefully before dementia has progressed that way the person with dementia can have some input into the planning as well. And you have to prioritise your own wellbeing.' While carers reported to the Carers Wellbeing Survey that they were exhausted and burned out, Reid says 'some carers feel powerfully motivated to look after someone, usually out of love but it can also be a sense of duty or responsibility. And some carers feel that it really gives their lives purpose.' It is an experience that crosses over all barriers: age, class, fame, country. Former US chatshow host Jay Leno is one who has spoken openly about the purpose and difficulty caring adds to his life. Leno chooses to mostly care for his wife of 45 years, Mavis, who has advanced dementia, himself. 'It's a challenge' he says 'having to feed her, change her, carry her to the bathroom. It's not that I enjoy doing it but I guess I enjoy doing it. 'I like taking care of her. I like that I am needed. That's really what love is.'
