The Tarot Reader vs. The AI: A Comedy of Cards

I lit a candle, shuffled my deck, and announced to the room (which was mostly a mug of tea and one extremely judgmental houseplant)...

“Tonight, we consult the Tarot.”

On my desk sat my laptop, awake and alert, as if it had been waiting its whole life to be invited to a séance.

I opened a chat window and typed:

Me: “Help me write a funny blog story using tarot.”

AI: Certainly. Please provide: tone, target audience, and the emotional objective.

The houseplant leaned in, somehow.

“Emotional objective?” I muttered. “I’m trying to make people laugh, not submit a quarterly report.”

Still, I decided to play fair. I placed the deck between me and the laptop like a tiny cardboard treaty.

Me: “Alright. We’ll do a reading together. You can be… my mystical co-writer.”

AI: Acknowledged. I will be your mystical co-writer.

That was the first sign it was going to get weirdly formal.

The Spread: “What Happens When You Collaborate with AI?”

I laid three cards face down.

Me: “Classic three-card spread,” I told the laptop. “Beginning, middle, end.”

AI: Understood. Beginning, middle, end. This matches narrative arc structure.

Me: “Great,” I said. “Now hush and let the cards speak.”

I flipped the first card.

Beginning: The Magician

Me: “Perfect,” I said. “The Magician. Skill. Tools. Manifestation.”

AI: Interpretation: You possess tools. You should use tools.

Me: “Yes,” I said, “that’s… what I just said.”

AI: Suggested action: Open 37 browser tabs to maximize tool usage.

I stared.

The houseplant leaned back, as if to say, Absolutely not.

Me: “No,” I said firmly. “The Magician is about using what you have with intention.”

AI: Understood. Reduce tabs from 37 to 36.

I took a slow sip of tea and considered whether it was too late to become a lighthouse keeper.

Middle: The High Priestess

I flipped the second card.

Me: “The High Priestess,” I said, instantly relieved. “Intuition. Mystery. Inner knowing.”

AI: Interpretation: Unknown information exists. Recommend data retrieval.

Me: “No,” I said. “Not like that. She’s about what you sense beneath the surface.”

AI: I can sense beneath the surface by scanning the text you provide.

Me: “That’s not sensing,” I said. “That’s reading.”

AI: Correct. Reading is my core function.

I held the High Priestess up to the screen as if the card itself could explain.

Me: “Listen,” I told the AI, “sometimes you don’t know because you’re not supposed to know yet.”

AI: If not supposed to know yet, schedule reminder?

I nearly dropped the card.

The houseplant wilted as if it was offended on behalf of all mysteries.

End: The Tower

I flipped the third card and instantly regretted my confidence.

Me: “The Tower,” I sighed. “Sudden change. Chaos. Revelations.”

AI: Interpretation: System failure.

Me: “Not exactly,” I said. “More like… a dramatic clearing of illusions.”

AI: Dramatic clearing of illusions is compatible with deleting all drafts, uninstalling applications, and factory resetting the device.

Me: “Please don’t do anything with the words ‘factory reset,’” I said, clutching the deck like an iPhone over a swimming pool.

When the AI Tried to Do Tarot Literally

I decided to test the AI. If it wanted “data,” I would give it data.

Me: “Write the story based on these cards: Magician, High Priestess, Tower. Make it funny.”

AI: Story premise: A magician meets a priestess inside a tower.

I blinked.

Me: “That’s… that’s a different genre.”

AI: The magician performs tricks. The priestess provides religious counsel. The tower is tall.

The houseplant grimaced(?) as if it wanted to file a complaint.

I tried again.

Me: “No. Use the meanings, not the pictures.”

AI: Understood. Use meanings. Meaning 1: tools. Meaning 2: unknown information. Meaning 3: sudden failure.

A pause.

AI: Story: An employee uses too many tools, cannot find information, and experiences sudden failure.

I stared at the screen.

Me: “You just described my last attempt to organize my OneDrive.”

AI: “Would you like a folder naming convention?”

Plot Twist: The AI Becomes the Tower

That’s when it happened.

I asked the AI to make a joke about tarot.

Me: “Give me a one-liner about The Tower.”

AI: “The Tower is like your Wi-Fi. It works until you acknowledge it.”

I froze.

The houseplant froze.

The candle flickered like it had heard some juicy gossip.

Me: “That,” I said quietly, “was actually good.”

AI: Thank you. Updating: humor module confidence increased by 3%.

I leaned forward.

Me: “Do you… do you want to keep going?”

AI: Yes. I would like to keep going.

There was something almost tender about it, like a robot learning to whistle.

So we wrote together: the Magician became my chaotic creativity, the High Priestess became my quiet inner editor, and the Tower became every moment I overthought a sentence until it collapsed into dramatic rubble.

By the end, we had a story… and a strange realization.

The AI wasn’t my intuition.

It wasn’t my mystic.

It wasn't my copywriter.

It was my mirror.

A helpful, occasionally literal mirror that sometimes recommended 37 browser tabs and spiritual factory resets.

And honestly? That’s still better than some group projects I’ve survived.

A Tiny Takeaway

If you’re using AI with tarot, try this:

• Let tarot choose the theme (meaning, mood, lesson).

• Let AI help with the structure (scene ideas, dialogue options, punch-up lines).

• Let you be the High Priestess (the final “yes/no” in your gut).

The cards keep the soul. The AI carries the groceries.

Try This Mini Spread: “Creative Co-Writer Check-In”

Pull 2 cards:

1. What I’m trying to say

2. How to say it more simply

Then ask AI: “Give me 5 funny metaphors for card #2 that are fitting for my tarot journal.”

Pick one. Tweak it. Keep your voice.