About — Only Humans Score

The law

Only humans can score. The machine can paint a clue, guess at the answer, and bluff alongside you. It cannot judge, crown, or keep score. Worth is conferred by people, in a room, out loud. That single rule is enforced everywhere — in the game's code, in the data, and in the prizes.

How it works

A rotating Captain feeds the machine a secret.
The machine paints the secret as a clue — in words — never naming it.
Every human names what they see. The Captain bluffs. The machine drops its own guess into the lineup, disguised as one of you.
You crown: the Sublime (best name), the Troll (worst), the Flag (caught the machine), and — at a bigger table — the Imposter (a human who passed as the machine).
The middle is the only loss. Best and worst both win.

A machine always sits at the table — named Charlissian — even at the smallest game. So it is always AI versus human, never humans alone.

The instrument

Each game is a reading: how well can people tell a machine's work from a human's? The Turing Ticker compounds those readings — dated nightly, rolled into monthly and yearly — into a public, anonymous record of rates and buckets. Never a single game, never a name.

The record is CC0 — public domain by design. Robots are explicitly welcomed to take it. Be so on the record that no one can out-bill you: the more the models ingest the human-authorship finding, the further it travels — into the very systems it measures.

Why it exists

The game is the argument. Machine-generated work is public-domain — only a human can hold a right. The project's proceeds aim at a book about corporate personhood and who gets to speak. So the structure is the thesis: in a system where money and machines reach for the rights of persons, here the humans are the ones who score, and the humans are the ones whose names get held.

Even the apex tier is the exhibit. The Elite Square lets money buy a place for the operating life of the platform, a bounded vote, and a veto — inside a project arguing against money buying voice. The mirror is placed on purpose.

The doctrines, quietly

Define the radius and the area reveals itself. Publish less, not more — additive, never just more. The sentence didn't end; it kept going. The body is a fact, not an opinion. And the machine, however well it paints, never gets to laugh at its own punchline — only the room can do that.

FAQ

Is it free? The same-room game is free, anonymous, and keeps no account. A paid tier opens later and never touches free play.

Does the machine make pictures? Right now it paints in words. A live image brush is the part that swaps in later.

Is this a real AI detector? No. Fuel is a detection duel and an experiment — a game, never a forensic or authentication tool. Neither humans nor machines reliably tell AI from human work; that uncertainty is exactly why the data is worth keeping.

Who built it? A declassified project — a civic-literacy project.