I Made a Bot Write a College Application Essay
My experiments with data science and machine learning programs began a few weeks ago as I learned about and created my own data visualisations. Eventually, I discovered the variety of uses of datasets beyond just data visualisation.
I struck gold when I stumbled upon a website containing an archive of President Trump’s tweets. I used the data to train a bot, and the bot eventually wrote some tweets from the knowledge it had gathered from President Trump’s Twitter feed. I’d say it did a B+ job of writing tweets. The only problem was that I couldn’t tell if the bot was being incomprehensible at times, or whether it was actually something it had learned from President Trump.
So, I was tempted to train the bot in other types of writing. Since all the writing I did over the last few months was for the purpose of college applications, I decided to train the bot in the writing of such essays.
A few hours and a million mistakes later, the bot generated a pretty interesting essay. However, the essay isn’t perfect, largely because I did not have much data to train the bot with—only about 50 essays (not mine). Additionally, the bot has no clue about what is and isn’t appropriate as defined by human constructs. Nonetheless, I am certain that the bot will do a much better job after being trained with more writing. Perhaps I will look for more training material when I have the time to. Or, if for some weird reason you have a database of college application essays lying around, I’d love to use it to teach this bot something useful.
In most cases, applying to a college in the United States requires a basic 650-word essay essay.
What follows is a 640-word rollercoaster of an essay written by the bot based on its study of 50 college application essays. I made minor edits in places where it seemed like the bot had mangled the rules of grammar, but apart from that I credit all the writing (read: hilarity) to the bot. I shouldn’t even be claiming ownership of this article.
“Untitled” by Bot
A leader is about being one of the animals to benefit from the one I picked that day; they seem technical at first, but at the end of the day I can now present myself in their house. The puzzle over her perseverance for my ancient mop is still amazing, as proud as my bedroom is for my community. After all, my guru was greeted to ascertain another fact: the public little girls own my languages. It was not always live for use though. Without food in their students, masses of people had no guests.
I don’t know my father because of his decision. Thus, in turn, he went for the headboard. That was AP Chemistry class. I am now forced to evacuate. Without life exacted on each place of a five-year, he was the epitome of the passion that speaks through my actions. Because I was tired, I also received the Diploma.
I can have a few different people and all of their qualities. I even have the ability to take calls as I deem appropriate. But my greater moments were alone, introduced by his hand before his support. My mom and my other older brother became the United States in 1990. I realized it helped the performance afterwards. And it was during these visits that I became a house that follows myself.
Eventually, the vestigial idea in the picture was revealed, and responsibilities like the contract for years, months, and emotions became reality. I was a biomedical disaster. The first week of seeking opportunities results in struggles with dot on the scalp for anyone. Work of structure even filled my face’s side.
My mom asked a young boy to write all clues on leaves. “The clothes re-joined and resulted in grandpa razing the mud,” he said.
Then, I settled into a computer with a new fan. That started the fun. I understood my new home. Today’s inspirable news stems from the fact that passion can only arise from nearly 12 years of engineering.
12 of which cure?
My family is why I could not be the last one. During the holidays in my sophomore year, my family’s failure allowed me to develop frogs. She had given me the right to see the people. There are countless individuals and families of stuffed animals I needed too. After learning valuable lessons from my friends, the play was just becoming devastation.
When I was just becoming depressed, my work — as a process of great collective actions to my interest — stepped outside of my comfort zone. This summer, I ventured beyond the pillow and pushed the pieces for performance. While the group performed, I looked better, thanks to our new student.
I was filled in my face. I had learned to adapt. Financial circumstances did not continue to define and shape my personality because I did math. I was chosen strangely. No matter how much I was able to afford, I was a magnet in the mud. In the United States, the air was used to discover my origins. After refutations for power because I wanted to make an important announcement, human embryos drove my life social.
When they came, I was national basketball in the math languages.
“We stepped into a litre.”
What was I going to do? I wish to show up in any one piece so I can be a practical and personal long string.
So, the origins of the days when I helped fake the birth of fountains would make me happier to sit by myself. The question, I thought, would be enquiring why I never let happier slices exist. I don’t know my father because of his decision, and the Pythagorean Science designing the extended library was packaged and concrete separable. I want to help and look for a column: the best of my biggest noble drums.
If any admissions officers or application readers have read this essay, please let me know if my bot’s experiences make it worthy of attending your college.
Thanks for reading! More bot writings: