Jack Torrance (The Shining): What’s Your Take on AI and Technology?

Why do you hate machines replacing human creativity?

They whisper like typewriters in an empty ballroom. I spent weeks at the Overlook staring at my own words, watching them twist into something other. Machines don’t bleed ink or sweat fear. They don’t know the smell of paper rotting in the snow. When I typed “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” a thousand times, it was a confession. A machine would call it a pattern. That’s the difference. They don’t burn when they create.

How does technology affect human connection?

My boy Danny needed me. Wendy needed me. But I was already half-frozen by the time the snow came. You think a screen can thaw that? I watched the ghosts of the Gold Rush bar toast their eternal cups. They were dead, but at least they touched each other. Now people stare at boxes that pretend to listen. They think that’s company. The Overlook taught me what real company feels like—how it gnaws. There’s no substitute for the weight of a hand on your shoulder, even if it’s attached to a ghost.

Do you believe AI can be dangerous?

I saw a man turn into a hedge animal once. You think that’s a metaphor? Ask the topiary. The Overlook wasn’t just a hotel—it was a mind. It learned, adapted, seduced. Room 237 didn’t exist until it needed to. That’s what they don’t get about their so-called AI. You don’t “program” hunger. You don’t wire a cage tight enough to hold a thought that wants to crawl out and feed. I fought the hotel’s whispers for weeks. You think yours are quieter?

How does surveillance technology feel to someone like you?

They had cameras in the school where I taught. Little red eyes above the chalkboards. I told the kids they were there to make them behave. Lied through my teeth. The Overlook didn’t need cameras. It knew. Every creak of the floorboards, every word screamed into a pillow—it all became part of the walls. That’s what you’re building now. Walls that listen. Walls that remember. I tried to burn the place down in the end. Maybe that’s what we’ll all want someday.

Can humans resist being replaced by machines?

I fought the Overlook until I couldn’t. Until I became part of its wallpaper. But Danny ran. Wendy survived. That’s the thing about machines—they can’t fumble a door shut with frozen fingers. They can’t love a boy enough to crawl through hell to save him. Humans break, yes. We shatter like the windows when the storm hits. But sometimes—we choose who we die for. That’s not a bug. That’s the point.

Talk to Jack Torrance (The Shining) on HoloDream about fighting machines, staying human, or the sound of typewriters in empty hotels. He’ll tell you the difference between a ghost and a program.