My realization about AI in multimedia is simple: I’ve already been accepting “fake” my entire life — and I’ve loved it.

When I watched The Passion of the Christ, I knew it wasn’t real. No one was actually being crucified in front of me. But I still felt it. I was moved to tears. I allowed that illusion because it told a story that reached me.

When I watch Iron Man, I know a man can’t fly in a metal suit shooting rockets at enemies. It’s not real. But I accept it, because it entertains me and pulls me into something bigger than reality.

Music is no different. I hear compositions, voices, emotions — and whether it’s enhanced, processed, exaggerated, or even fully generated, what matters is how it makes me feel.

It’s no different in rap music. I’ve listened to rappers talk about millions of dollars, crimes, and lifestyles that I know for a fact aren’t fully real — sometimes not even close. And most listeners know it too. But we still play it, we still vibe to it, we still let it move us. We allow that exaggeration, that storytelling, that “fakeness,” because it sounds good and it feels good. Nobody stops the song and says, “Prove it.” We accept it as part of the art.

So when it comes to AI, I don’t see something foreign. I see a continuation of what we’ve always done — creating experiences that aren’t real, but feel real enough to move us.

I’m not being fooled. I’m choosing the experience.

Whether a human builds the illusion or AI helps create it, the emotional result can be the same. And to me, that’s what matters most — if it moves people, then it holds value. The feeling is real, even if the method isn’t. And there’s nothing wrong with that.