“Don’t Look It Up, Just Look Up”

Frame 1 – Setup
I’m walking across campus, and the shot feels cinematic but natural, handheld phone with real ambient sound. I want it to feel raw to a UNC student in a way that someone from another school wouldn’t recognize, but a Tar Heel would instantly know. You might catch the Bell Tower in the corner or hear Rita, the crosswalk lady, say “Have a good day, sweetheart.” The goal is for the audience to feel like they know exactly where I’m walking.

I pause and speak directly to the camera:

“I was supposed to do the ‘Look Up’ assignment for my MEJO class… but halfway through, I caught myself wondering, could AI just do it for me? How ironic. So, I decided to try it out.”

I explain briefly that I’m going to ask ChatGPT to describe what it sees, and at the same time, I’ll ask someone nearby the same thing. I want to see the difference between what technology notices and what people actually feel.

Quick cut to my phone screen as I type into ChatGPT.

“If AI can do everything, what’s left for us to figure out?”

This moment hooks viewers both emotionally and intellectually.
Tone: Curious, reflective, and a little self-aware, like I’m letting the audience in on my own experiment.

Frame 2 – The Quad
The video cuts to a mirrored screen recording of my phone. I open ChatGPT, tap the small camera icon inside the chat, and lift my phone to take a picture of the quad. Students are scattered across the grass, the sound of laughter and conversation drifts through the air, and sunlight filters through the trees.

I upload the image and type, “What do you observe?”

A moment passes before ChatGPT’s response appears on the screen:

“A grassy quad with students sitting around, trees swaying in the wind.”

Siri’s voice reads the words as they appear, calm and robotic, layered with faint static. The description is technically correct but emotionally flat.

Then the camera cuts to me asking real students the same question, “What do you observe?”

Their answers appear as a quick, soft collage of clips layered together in a warm, almost nostalgic sequence. One person laughs and says, “I just watched my friend get pied.” Another mentions, “There was a crazy game of spike ball earlier.” Someone smiles and says, “The therapy golden retrievers were on campus again.”

The sound design subtly shifts. Overlapping voices, bits of laughter, and ambient campus sounds build into something that feels alive. The clips are not polished; they feel spontaneous, human, and full of presence.

Tone: It begins cold and detached and then slowly fills with warmth and sound. The contrast between Siri’s voice and the laughter of real people highlights the heart of the idea without needing to say it out loud.

Frame 3 – Dean Dome, UNC vs. Duke Basketball
The scene opens inside the Dean Dome. The camera moves through a blur of Carolina blue. Pom-poms wave, the band plays, students jump, and the sound of the crowd is deafening. The energy is constant and impossible to contain.

The shot cuts to my phone screen. As I open ChatGPT, the noise of the crowd begins to fade. The cheers and music soften until it feels strangely quiet, as if the world around me is slipping out of focus. I tap the camera icon and lift my phone to take a picture of the court.

I type, “What do you observe?”

A moment later, the response appears:

“A basketball game with cheering fans.”

Siri’s calm, robotic voice reads the line. It sounds empty against the muted crowd, reducing something alive into something ordinary.

Then the sound floods back in all at once. The camera cuts to three shirtless guys painted in Carolina blue with “U,” “N,” and “C” across their chests, jumping and yelling, “Tar Heels on top, baby!” Another group in blue and white striped overalls chants the fight song, “Hark the Sound!” before shouting together, “Go to hell, Duke!”

The energy peaks, then slows for a brief shot of Roy Williams smiling softly and clapping from the sidelines. His quiet presence brings the moment back to warmth and nostalgia.

Tone: It begins loud and electric, dips into stillness when ChatGPT opens, then explodes back into color and sound. The contrast makes the silence feel almost artificial, showing how easily technology can pull us away from reality and how powerful it feels when we return to it.

Frame 4 – Meantime Coffee Co.
The scene opens at Meantime Coffee Co. It is busy, as always. The camera moves through the line of students waiting for their drinks, talking over the sound of milk steaming and espresso grinding. You can hear orders being called and someone laughing with a friend in the background.

The shot cuts to my phone screen. I open ChatGPT and tap the camera icon. As soon as I do, the noise starts to fade. The voices blur, the laughter dulls, and it suddenly feels quiet, like stepping out of a moment without meaning to. I take a picture and type, “What do you observe?”

A few seconds later, the response appears:

“A coffee shop with students studying.”

Siri’s voice reads the line out loud. It is flat, empty, and a little eerie in a space that is usually full of life.

Then the sound slowly fades back in. The milk steamer hisses, someone calls out a name for a latte, and the chatter picks up again. I turn to a student in line and ask, “What do you observe?”

She smiles and says, “I just got a free coffee.” The camera lingers on her grin for a second, catching that small, real moment of joy.

I ask one of the baristas the same question. She wipes her hands on a towel and laughs. “I just got an A on my midterm.”

The colors feel warmer. The sound is full again. The moment feels alive.

Tone: Warm, grounded, and familiar. The quiet when ChatGPT opens shows how easily technology can strip away feeling, but the return of sound, laughter, and small human moments reminds you what connection actually looks like.

Frame 5 – Final Montage
The screen fades in from the Meantime scene. Music begins softly as a montage plays of all the people we have met so far. Quick, warm clips of laughter, smiles, and real moments fill the screen. The girl who got a free coffee. The barista who just got an A. The guys painted in Carolina blue yelling in the Dean Dome. A kid in a Jordan jersey celebrating after a big play. The therapy golden retrievers surrounded by students on the quad. A spike ball game in full swing.

The clips are fast and full of movement, like a rush of memories. Each moment feels alive and human.

Then the montage fades back to the point of view of the phone screen. ChatGPT’s typing bubble blinks for a few seconds before a message begins to appear. Siri’s voice starts to read it in her calm, even tone:

“Turns out, there’s one thing AI isn’t…”

Her voice fades, and the sound of campus begins to rise.

The camera cuts to a wide drone shot of UNC. Students fill the quad. Some walk between classes, some laugh in groups, some lie on the grass under the sun. The Bell Tower stands in the distance. The entire scene feels alive.

Then, over the drone shot, the voices of all the students overlap at once, loud and excited, saying together:

“Human.”

Their voices echo as the drone shot lingers. The sound slowly fades out, leaving the image of campus glowing in the afternoon light.

On screen, the final text appears:

“Don’t Look It Up, Just Look Up.”

Tone: Uplifting, emotional, and full of life. The story ends with the same curiosity it began with, but now the meaning feels deeper. It reminds the audience that what makes us different from technology is not what we know, but how we live.