#it's all semantic garbage

[crackingfeetlol]

i was viewing that as a pendulum. a way to interpret something depending on a situation. not a fixed representation. i dont care about intent here. i do not care if i am not interpreting it the way most people are because i feel as though these conversations very quickly devolve. i am entirely uninterested in the sort of deliberately obtuse vitriolic way people 'explain' themselves and i do not want to have any part of it.

[strangersatellites]

posting this feels like I'm crawling out of my grave and gasping for air

anyway- inspired by this post by @inthedarknessofnight

here's 1.3k of concert photographer!Steve and rockstar!Eddie because I couldn't get this out of my head

gimme, gimme more

1.3k words | this is the most g-rated thing I've ever written, it won't happen again

Steve’s feet hurt.

They always do after a show, but this one was particularly hard on him.

He’s been at this venue for two years now and shot countless shows in that time. But never in his career has he been challenged so– athletically. 

The photo pit at this place is light years better than his last venue. There’s more than enough room for all of the photographers and their gear without stepping on each other. Usually Steve is grateful for this because surely there is only so many more beatings his 35mm can take before it kicks the bucket. Today though, he’s grateful for the space because of the full-tilt sprint this band had him in. 

He’s never seen anything like it.

Well, less so did the band have him in a sprint and more so the frontman but, semantics. 

The guy is everywhere. Steve could barely keep up with the way he ran around stage, jumping, climbing on equipment, leaning off-stage toward the barricade.

It was fun but Jesus, what is his deal?

Steve hadn’t even known who Corroded Coffin was 24 hours ago. Now he’s burned through two SD cards in an hour and a half. 

The guy’s hot and a good photo subject, sue him.

Well, he thinks he’s a good photo subject at least. He won’t know until he’s culled through every single shot. Steve’s a good photographer, took to it naturally the first time he picked up a camera. His downfall though, according to his college professors at least, was that he pays absolutely no attention to what he’s shooting while he’s shooting it. Hence the overshooting. 

On more than one occasion he’s gotten started on editing and someone is wearing an outfit he’s never seen before, someone’s got sunglasses on in every photo, a tag hanging off their jacket. All he’s concerned with is the framing, the lighting, and the focus. The content can be a problem for Future Steve. Everything can be fixed in post.

Almost.

Anyway, his feet hurt and he hates culling, so he pours himself a full glass of wine and plops down on the couch in front of an episode of trash tv with his laptop and props his feet up. Settles in for a long night.

2,461 images.

He throws his head back with a groan. Ugh. 

The first hundred or so are garbage.

They always are.

A few shots spent fucking with the exposure, a few the focus, some the flash.

He denotes the purple flag as his ‘good’ tag and orange as his ‘trash’ tag. The orange is stacking up fast. Around 163 he starts finding some good images. Ones that aren’t tainted by motion blur from his running around after this frontman. 

His photos of the drummer are pretty sick; he can't lie. The lights and the smoke and the near-manic smile on his face make for great photos. He’s not even this band’s personal photographer but he can imagine at least one of these will get posted to the band's socials. He’s good, what can he say?

He has a good bit of the bassist, his energy infectious enough you can almost feel it through the screen. Purple is making a comeback.

He finally gets through some crowd pics, some more drummer, some guitarist, some detail shots before he finally makes it to the frontman. 731 photos later. 

What did Wikipedia say his name was? Eddie, he thinks.

Weird, the very first shot Steve has of him he’s making fierce eye contact with the camera.

Ew.

No matter how long Steve does this, photos of people looking directly at the camera never get less jarring. 

Orange tag. Trash.

The next one is exactly the same.

Shit. 

He’s really bad to fall victim to the high speed shutter on this camera and often finds himself with a dozen copies of the same picture. Looks like he’s done it again.

Orange.

More piercing eye contact.

What? He squints and flips back and forth between the last two photos.

They’re not even remotely similar. As a matter of fact, Steve was in a completely different location in the pit for the second one. 

Green tag. Come back to this.

Taking a long swig from his glass he shifts so his laptop is closer to his face. Thinks that surely he’s not seeing this right. 

He takes to forgoing his tagging system and just flipping through every photo as fast as his fingers can press the arrow keys.

He’s clicked through about 200 when he starts getting worried, his heart rate speeding up. Surely he got something usable.

“What the fuck?”

He’s clicked through 50 or 60 more when he decides that, no he did not fall victim to the shutter speed at all. This guy is just making direct eye contact with his camera in every single photo.

Steve’s not mad, the opposite really. He didn’t spend much time looking at the guy during the show and now he gets to have an eyeful while he works. What’s there to be mad about? 

He is, however, mildly concerned that he won’t have a single decent photo to use for the venue socials when he posts about this show.

Whatever. Maybe fans of their music are also fans of uncomfortable eye contact. Who knows?

He finishes sifting through the rest of the photos, Eddie staring directly down the lens in every one, one’s where he’s not the subject included. Throws them all in an editing software and mass edits them all at once. He’ll detail edit later.

While the eye contact was a little unsettling, he did get one photo he’s particularly happy with. One that makes it look like the staring was on purpose.

It’s during the second to last song, a ballad– or as close as you can get with a metal band. Eddie’s standing center-stage and Steve had snagged the spot directly in front of him. He’s looking straight down, backlit with red spotlights, surrounded by smoke pumping from side-stage, and just close enough that Steve can see the sweat dripping down his neck. He looks a little bit scary, but that’s how Steve likes ‘em. 

That’ll be the cover photo for sure.

He shoots an album link to his boss to review before he distributes them anywhere, then spends  the next twenty minutes laughing to himself while he collects the goofiest photos of Eddie staring straight at his lens.

He puts them in a new album and copies the link.

When he opens up Instagram and searches Corroded Coffin he lets out a low whistle at the six million followers. Maybe he really should know who these guys are. With that many followers he doubts they’ll even see a message from his personal account, but whatever. He clicks on the message button on their profile and hits paste.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Great show tonight! Somebody tell this guy that he is allowed to look away from the camera though…

He only waits a few minutes for the reply.

@ corrodedcoffin HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ corrodedcoffin Wait hang on

His phone pings with a message from a new account.

@ whoiseddiemunson HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ whoiseddiemunson Sweetheart I wasn’t looking at the camera

Steve furrows his brows, confused. Starts typing a response but gets interrupted by another message.

@ whoiseddiemunson I was looking at the smoking hot guy behind it. Kinda hard to get a good look when he’s hiding behind the camera though.

Steve feels his cheeks flush and huffs a laugh to himself.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Well the guy behind the camera did manage to get a few good ones even though he was under surveillance the whole show. Wanna see those?

@ whoiseddiemunson Hell yeah I do. I just scrolled through your profile, your work is amazing. Do you want to show me the rest? Maybe over coffee tomorrow?

Steve smiles. His earlier heart palpitations replaced with butterflies.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Is this a date?

@ whoiseddiemunson It better be

[saphronethaleph]

Life Support Issues

“All right, so… where do you have the plans?” the Rebel technician asked. “An R2 unit like this could have a hundred hiding places.”

R2 beeped and whistled.

“Ah, I see,” Threepio said. “Yes, Artoo has reminded me that in fact the plans are not only in a data card, but also redundantly stored inside his own system – that’s how he was able to access the systems so readily. He will be able to transfer them quite readily through a standard data access port.”

“We can get that set up, sure,” the tech agreed, gesturing, and his assistant brought over a cable.

As he did, though, Threepio looked with interest at his old friend and counterpart.

“Were you supposed to do that?” he asked.

R2 beeped again.

“Yes, I suppose it is a good thing that you did, but I’m asking if you were supposed to,” Threepio replied. “Don’t try and play semantics with me, Artoo.”

R2 provided a long string of bleeps and whistles, and C-3PO stepped back.

“You did?” he asked. “Oh my… well, I suppose I did ask you to do that first one.”

“Do what?” the tech asked, halfway through plugging in the cable.

“Well, we were on the Death Star,” C-3PO replied. “And while rescuing Princess Leia, Master Luke and their friends, I had Artoo shut down all the garbage compactors on the Death Star, and then open the door to the one that they were in. Artoo has informed he that, in fact, he opened all the entrances shortly before we left.”

He made a displeased noise. “In addition, he flushed all the drinkable water into the black water systems, raised the temperature in the food storage areas to two hundred and fourteen degrees centigrade, and sealed the doors to every lavatory on the ship. I am also reliably informed that the artificial gravity generators have been independently set to what he calls ‘shuffle’ and that the plumbing system on the Death Star is comprehensive enough to permit him to transport fluids randomly around the entire plumbing system through a series of several thousand distributed commands which trigger on and off at random, at times ranging from five minutes to three days.”

A pause.

“Also, that reversing the gravity in the shuttle and vehicle maintenance bays produced a quite satisfying crunching sound of valuable equipment breaking. Artoo, did you really have to do all of that?”

R2 whistled, helpfully.

“Yes, I suppose they did blow up Alderaan,” Threepio admitted. “I’m just worried that at this point we might be committing war crimes ourselves.”

“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tarkin said, as blaster fire crackled up and down the corridor. “Half the ship is fighting itself and the other half is trying desperately to find a fresher.”

The firing intensified outside, then Darth Vader loomed imperiously out of the door and the various factions went from exchanging fire to fleeing.

“Have you found anything about what happened?” the Sith Lord asked, returning his attention to Tarkin. “I could believe one of these failures was accidental, but this is clearly deliberate.”

“It has been a little hard to gather information,” the Grand Moff replied, testily. “Since my analyst team is having to defend their access to a shuttle bay which might have an intact shuttle and the last Star Destroyer to try and render assistance was destroyed by two thousand turbolaser batteries all firing on it at once on automatic. But clearly there has been some sort of unauthorized access.”

“The plans,” Darth Vader said, firmly. “The Princess clearly passed them off to someone. The same group as her rescuers… Kenobi’s team. Kenobi is dead, but the smuggler ship must have had a strike team…”

He trailed off.

“But this is the work of an expert slicer,” he resumed. “A normal commando team couldn’t have done this much damage this quickly.”

“There is a report that one of my analysts found,” Tarkin said. “That a golden protocol droid and a blue-white astromech droid were acting suspiciously near Docking Bay 327.”

“Ah,” Darth Vader said, his tone somewhat different. “That explains everything. In fact, I am suspicious that there must be something we have missed.”

“Vader?” Tarkin asked.

“R2 has left us something else,” Vader answered. “I can feel it.”

Tarkin started giggling.

“...ah,” Vader declared. “There it is.”

“Nitrous oxide?” C-3PO asked. “Really?”

R2 whistled.

“I don’t care if you had to improvise and that it’s easily produced from available life support gases,” C-3PO replied, shaking his head. “Really, R2.”

[ebongawk]

kiss prompt 42 would be super cute!

remiss to admit I already wrote this one and Tumblr glitched and deleted it so I hope it actually posts this time 🥲

42. A clumsy kiss

It was late.

Eddie was still laughing to himself, despite how fucked up it was that everyone had ditched to avoid helping with cleanup duties. Like, alright, maybe he'd gotten on a power trip and decided to kill off Jeff and Grant's characters during their second-to-last Hellfire meeting of his high school career.

So what?

It was their own goddamn fault, negging him at lunch today. So maybe he'd ditched their morning chill session after Chrissy stopped by to say hi and he followed her like a sick puppy in desperate need of attention.

Could he truly be blamed? It was Chrissy Cunningham.

And he was friends with her.

(Actually he was fucking head-over-feet crazy about her, thinking so endlessly of her and their weird, unexpected friendship that he'd drawn a picture of Sune, the goddess of beauty and love, and accidentally made her look exactly like Chrissy, but. Semantics.)

They should've anticipated the consequences. Was no small matter, giving the dungeon master shit when he held the fate of their characters in his notoriously ruthless hands.

But their total shock and disdain when he'd killed them? Hilarious.

As he swept up the endless Doritos crumbs from the theater room's wood floor, he laughed again at the memory of Jeff shouting so loud the acoustics carried his voice through the entire space and back.

Grant went full Pavarotti when his elven archer fell to the depths of the Underdark.

Served them right.

Still, they were dicks for not staying to take care of their own messes. The younger kids he understood – curfew to adhere to and all that – but Jeff, Grant, and Gareth had straight up left with loose excuses that they all knew were bullshit. And if the drama room was left untended over the weekend, Eddie was the only one that would be in hot water with Mrs. Thames, since he was the one she entrusted with the key.

A soft knock yanked him out of his aggressive sweeping, looking up just as Chrissy peeked her way through the ajar door. He'd forgotten that she stuck around tonight for junior varsity tryouts for the coming year.

"Oh, you are still here," she breathed. "I saw your van in the lot on my way out, but I wasn't sure if you were here or if you were in Principal Higgins' office doing something, um, untoward." She looked around as she stepped through the threshold, the door clicking shut behind her. "Where are the guys?"

See, that was the thing. Chrissy wasn't just friends with him. The entirety of Hellfire was fucking batty over her. So why did he get all the shit?

"They ditched," Eddie snorted as he swept the crumbs into a dustpan, emptying it into the garbage can he'd stolen from the janitor's closet.

Chrissy quirked a brow at him. "What'd you do?"

"Egads, Cunningham!" he shouted, slapping a hand over his heart as he staggered toward her. "Must I be at every fault in your judgmental eyes?"

"Not every fault." She hummed, leaning against the table. Eddie scoffed, grabbing a notebook to start notating where the minis were before tossing them in a storage box. "But this one seems a little obvious."

Eddie finished his scribbling quietly, mulling this over. He didn't have to be entirely honest.

"Alright, so maybe I killed Jeff." Chrissy gasped. "And Grant."

"Eddie!" Chrissy chastised. "How could you?"

"It's fine!" he cried. "They were so angry about it that they fucking forgot that Sinclair found the Hand of Kelemvor buried in that chest in the Shadowfell. He can use it to bring them back!" Eddie snorted. "Serves them right, though. They'll have to scrounge up new character sheets before next week that'll be entirely useless."

Hoisting herself onto the table after he'd haphazardly wiped it down, Chrissy cast him a critical eye.

"Wouldn't Lucas have to, um, sacrifice something to use that?" she asked.

This was still kinda novel to him. He and Chrissy had been friends for a while now, and when they first started hanging out, she asked him about his DnD stuff. Well, actually, she asked him to explain it to her to verify that it wasn't a cult, as her ex-boyfriend so stupidly believed, and then after that she just... kept asking how the story was going. What they'd done that week. Not only that, she retained it. Filing away little pieces of information and gasping when she later realized how they tied into the greater plot of the story.

"Are you really even interested in this stuff?" he'd asked at one point. She was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, feet tucked under his thigh as they ignored the small stack of homework and he recounted the previous day's campaign. "Or are you just humoring me?"

"I like it so much, Eddie," she'd replied around a soft smile. The one he fucking prayed was reserved just for him. "It's like you're writing this whole fantastical story just for me."

"Just for you, huh?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm the only one lucky enough to hear it."

"He will," Eddie verified Chrissy's inquiry. Leaning up against the table beside her and shrugging. "The deity he ascribes to is kind of temperamental. She'll probably ask for his life in exchange for theirs."

Chrissy gasped in horror.

"Eddie, that's awful!"

"It's necessary!" he cried in response, chuckling at her genuine astonishment. "Listen, we've all done it, okay? Before I became DM, I sacrificed myself twice for the greater good. Gareth has lost three characters, and Grant and Jeff have both lost one. The younglings have played it too safe up 'til now, in my opinion. It's about time they accept that which they cannot control: change."

Chrissy blinked, her lips parted as she looked at him.

"It comes for us all, Cunningham," he said, his voice softer. Gaze dropping around a forced chuckle. "No matter how much we wish it wouldn't sometimes."

And that–– that was entirely too fucking revealing.

It was something they hadn't quite discussed, really. What they were going to be when she was off working her way through her scholarships in Portland and Eddie was who-fucking-knew doing God-knows-what away from this shitty ass town.

Honestly, he kinda figured she'd forget about him. This little stint of friendship had maybe opened her up to not judging books by their covers, if she ever had (Eddie knew she hadn't), but once they were no longer convenient, he figured he'd just become a fond memory for her. A soft little smile as she flipped through her yearbook in the coming decades.

A past she was happy to move on from.

Whether that made him want to kick his own teeth in was completely inconsequential.

"Change isn't always bad," she said, her own voice having dropped to a whisper. "Is it?"

He let his eyes drift back to hers. Meeting the determined storms he could see swirling there.

But he didn't have a chance to answer.

Because she was surging toward him, eyes scrunched closed, and he knew, he knew what she was trying to do, but she completely overestimated her aim. Lips landing clumsily on the small stretch of skin between his upper lip and nose, and her own nose mashed painfully just under his eye, making him wrench himself backward with a grunt.

"Oh–– Oh my God––"

"Aw, fuck."

"Oh, God, Eddie, I'm so––" Hands covering her mouth, she looked horrified all over again for an entirely different reason. "I-I'm so sorry, oh my God, did I hurt you?"

"It's alright––"

"No, it isn't, oh my gosh! This is so mortifying, God––"

"Hey––"

"I'm so sorr––"

"Hey," he said, wrapping one hand around her wrists and easing them down. "Chrissy. It's alright." She still looked entirely humiliated, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. "I mean, as long as you–– Did you–– Were you–– Uh. Were you trying to kiss me?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Chrissy let out a little trembling laugh herself.

"Trying being the operative word, I guess," she replied shakily. "I... I mean, nuggets, Eddie, I've wanted to kiss you for ages. And then, that whole thing with change and stuff, I thought, maybe this could be a good change. For us, you know? Because I just–– I like you so much, and––"

That was enough.

Cupping her cheek with his free hand, Eddie took the lead. Gently pulling her in, the little furrow between her brow not registering his intention until he was pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. Cutting off whatever apology she was likely to spew next with a little gasp that he greedily swallowed down.

He pulled back the tiniest bit, and Chrissy was quick to close the distance again. Extracting her wrists from his grip so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.

She tasted like the wild freedom of his feelings for her. This endless stretching of wilderness, trees and foliage entangled with meadows of wildflowers that grew without reservation. Sprawling landscapes that infiltrated his very being, until she'd suffused herself into every blade of grass and knob of dirt that had sprouted within him.

It was fucking insane, how well his hand fit in the curve of her waist. How easily his lips molded against hers. How good and right and natural it felt to have her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his scalp.

"Good change," he acknowledged easily when they finally broke apart for air. The little giggle she let out washed across his lips, lingering on his tongue with the yellow sunshine happiness of his wooded being.

"Amazing change," she agreed before leaning in to kiss him again.

kiss roulette!

[saiscribbles]

[Original Post]

So Lily decided to just send herself an anon ask rather than address my criticisms directly. You know like a coward lol.

So anyway: (1) Doubling down on the Diamonds being Nazis. (2) Joking about the stars Jewish people were forced to wear during the Holocaust. (3) The show is about communication, Lily, not forgiveness. (4) Show me where Spinel is even metaphorically suicidal, but you'd have to actually watch the movie for that. (5) I think you meant "she was" and no she wasn't. (6) It's "sarcasm" to just mislead your fans about the climax of the movie by claiming Steven backed Spinel down with "mind control powers"?

(7) And it was "sarcasm" to just make a bunch of gay conversion therapy jokes about a lesbian character for absolutely no reason? (8) Was it a joke Lily? Cause you said "if you read all the interviews the Gems are based on the Asari" (9) It isn't semantics you outright baselessly speculated in your Garbage video that Nikki Minaj didn't return to voice Sugilite because "someone was pissed".

(10) It's not an opinion to claim a character that's obviously a post-it note doodle was a "scrapped character". Or was that the semantics part? I think you lost your place there, Lily.

(11) Just lying again. Completely denying the homophobia that was surrounding getting Ruby and Sapphire's wedding to air. Sugar told this story herself you just claimed you "don't believe a word that comes out of her mouth".

(12) You said Steven tried to marry his "12 year old girlfriend" in Future. (13) There's no such analogy, you're the one reading rape into a children's show. (14) The Human Zoo is based on classic 70's science fiction films such as THX and Logan's Run. You're just an uncultured ignoramus who holds a huge amount of ire for a children's show about perspectives, communication and gay space rocks.

I'm not bothering with the rest cause Lily added extra to her self anon. But there was this last bit:

Lily's new claim is she only mentions SU once or twice a year. Or once every couple of years. Depending on the day. Either way... Does she just forget what she talks about in videos or is she really so stupid she thinks no one can fact check her?

And this was just at a lazy glance, I probably missed some.

[fricc-darn]

A Cultish Christmas

(BEN fluff?! It's a Christmas miracle!)

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It was that special time of the year again. Cold white specks that blanketed every little thing have replaced the falling amber leaves. Holiday lights and other accompanying decorations were visible across various homes in the neighborhood. No matter where you went, there was stark reminder that today was Christmas Eve.

You didn't know how you felt about the holiday anymore. Always, there was a sudden urge. A spark, an eagerness for another opportunity to make this Christmas better than the last. To try new foods, attend events, and maybe even go to a holiday party. However, the ugly truth of reminiscing was that these thoughts were a cope. You were yearning for what the holiday once was, what it felt like. Cursed nostalgia has you chasing a high you haven't felt since childhood. 

Nothing has been the same, especially in the last few... years? Time meshed together; it was hard to keep track of time with so much happening. Your mind never fully adjusted to the change; how could one adjust to a malevolent hive mind choosing you to be their lifelong plaything—lover? You weren't mad about it, not anymore. The relationship wasn't conventional, but you grew to love it. 

Occasionally, you wished BEN wasn't awfully stubborn. Here you were, hunched over in your chair, at the crack of dawn, typing away at your computer, going back-and-forth with BEN. Trying to convince it to celebrate Christmas with you this year.

Your eyes skimmed over what you typed once more before hitting send.

"Please BEN!! Let's go ice skating or walk around downtown to look at all the lights. It'll be really fun I promise!"

"No."

A loud groan bellowed from your throat. Your hands rubbed your face, trying to subdue the built-up annoyance. A fruitless effort trying to force a horse to drink water. BEN showed no desire to go outside, only using its physical body indoors, around you. Given how jaded it was from days of yore and how deplorable humanity is, BEN clearly did not want to be around those it deemed as lesser. Not like its rationale made this any easier. 

Your hands clicked on the keys.

"Then help me finish decorating the tree. I want to put at least one gift under there, so let me get you a gift!"

"Someone is frusterated."

You reclined back in your seat, rolling your eyes. Maybe you could try going out on your own, but it would be no fun without them. Was this holiday apathy some religious thing? BEN's explanations about its beliefs were a vague and convoluted puzzle you have yet to solve. At worst, celebrating could be a sore spot for the Moon Children.

Your fingers intertwined, fiddling with your thumb. Glancing around the computer screen, you spoke in a hushed tone, walking on eggshells. "You know... You're not committing a cardinal sin by having fun. Christmas is not all bad if you think about it differently. I promise you'll have fun."

BEN wouldn't have admitted how it appreciated your consideration. You always tried to weasel your way into understanding what little you knew about how it felt on pressing matters. Trying to cheer it up was admirable, to a fault. You spoke too much about what you didn't know.

This was not necessarily a matter of sin. This was a matter of right and wrong—semantics. The holiday is superficial and a waste of time. For a day, people pretend to get along and splurge on plastic garbage while others starved, a holiday derived from a tall tale. Simply put, your enthusiasm had them asking why. You were better than this nonsense.

They'll humor you. Your behavior has greatly improved compared to years past; good behavior should be rewarded after all. They've had plans in the works. The coveted notion of converting you into a believer. They wanted to test your willingness to leave all of this behind. To push your devotion to them beyond your limits. For you to be completely theirs, it was an entertaining idea. Occasionally, indulging your frivolous wants would come to their benefit in the long run.

BEN watched as you fussed in your seat. Muttering how you would be downstairs in the living room if needed before you stormed out of the room.

An hour had passed since then. You stood before your creation. A mediocre tree, but it was your mediocre tree! The decorated fern was adorned with sentimental ornaments and cheap multicolored lights, with a cute topper at the tip of it all. Slowly, eying the tree to the base, the emptiness chipped at your glee. Turning around, you bumped into BEN, your pitchy shrieking echoed off the walls, mixed with BEN's maniacal laughter. Before you fell over and capsized the tree, it quickly grabbed you.

"I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that; it's not funny—" Your ridicule came to a screeching halt realizing BEN was wearing a winter outfit. A warm, deep blue and white jacket with gloves. Dark snow pants and boots, as if it weren't tall enough. BEN looked adorable! It was always fashionable, its smile elevated anything it wore. Squealing, your hands trembled with delight, reaching out to hold its face.

BEN let you cup its face, momentarily that is. It took a step back, staring you down. "Go change before I change my mind."

Sporadically, you nodded. Hurrying past them and up the stairs, you burst into your room. You rummaged through your closet, throwing together a nice outfit for the long Christmas date ahead. 

The moon beamed overhead, softly illuminating the sky. The streetlights aided in brightening up the freezing walk back home. You two spent the entire day out and about. The two of you were laughing, walking hand in hand, cracking jokes about stuff that happened today.

You took a quick peek at BEN. Whispy strands of green hair blew in the wind. Its cheeks and nose were a cherry hue, yet BEN didn't seem bothered by the cold. "I'm surprised how well you blend in; you even got compliments! I still can't believe how easily you bullshitted that goth girl about your hair color."

"Heh, easier for me to blend in than it is for you to walk on icy pavement." BEN was genuinely amazed by the plethora of close calls that happened in one night. Your excitement got the best of you, almost falling and splitting your head open so many times, you had to have broken a world record. BEN tightened its hold on your hand as you approached the frozen sidewalk that led to your house. Those lazy degenerates for neighbors could not bother to salt the ground.

Looming over you, it watched as you fumbled with your keys. The keys jingled a soothing melody among its thoughts. You looked exhausted; good. They were content the night continued to go as planned. 

The door creaked open, you daintily pulled BEN inside. It hung up its jacket and placed its boots on the shoe rack. You kicked off your boots and yawned, mumbling your gratitude. "This is hands down the best Christmas ever... Thank you, BEN." Slowly, but surely, you hung up your coat and gloves. "Did you guys enjoy yourselves, even a little bit? I'm sorry if the strangers got too annoying." You spoke under your breath.

'Did we enjoy ourselves?' BEN pondered. Instinctively, they wanted to deny the lingering truth, but chose honesty. The Moon Children enjoyed themselves to varying degrees. Some took pleasure in sightseeing; others preferred the parade, catching the goodie bags being thrown, even if they had no use for them. It reminded them of when—well, those times didn't matter anymore.

Ultimately, your presence is pleasant... accepting this truth continued to be painfully shameful. BEN let the silence linger on; there was no point in answering if you were hardly awake. It took a step closer, shaking your shoulder. "Go to sleep. It's late."

Just like that, you jolted awake. Shaking your head and whining. "Y... Yeah, but I wanted to stay up longer." Your eyes stared at the tree in your periphery. A Christmas cuddle sounded nice. Cautiously, you continued, "Maybe we can watch a movie or something?"

BEN's eye twitched. You still wanted to do more? After everything you did today? What are you, a brat? It huffed, relinquishing its anger. BEN lowered to your eye level, red irises studying your tired face. It could feel your nervousness rise whenever it got close.

Tenderly, it held your cheek with its hand, grazing the soft skin with its thumb. "Don't be stubborn." BEN grabbed your waist, pressing against your body; it kissed your lips sweetly. "You must sleep. We have something for you." Its voice was a whispery serenade as it walked past you, up the stairs, and to your room, leaving you shocked.

Your mind raced with ideas. Your thudding heart fueled you as you raced up the steps, barging into your room, yet BEN was gone. You took their words to heart, especially after today. Confirming your belief that they weren't all that bad, just temperamental. If they were awful to their core, BEN wouldn't have even bothered spending time with you today.

When you finished getting ready for bed, you plopped onto the mattress. Wrapped under your blankets, you tossed and turned. The adrenaline coursing through your veins clashed with your drowsiness for minutes, until exhaustion gave way.

Muffling. The dulled chitter-chatter fizzled out when your eyes fluttered open. You were graced by a heart-shaped mask with an unrelenting gaze, surrounded by other masked faces. Your body jumped in surprise. Sitting up, you realized there were many familiar faces of varying ages resembling the game's NPCs. 

An awkward standstill took place, a staring contest between you and, what your mind could count, seventeen others. You grew nervous. Fidgeting with the blades of grass, you attempted to pay no mind to your blushing face. Until a laugh broke the silence.

One of the masked children giggled, practically snorting. "You're nervous. Funny." Their ridiculous snorting set off a chain reaction, causing the others to laugh. They exchanged comments about how scared you looked and that your sudden shyness was comical. The tension melting away cracked a smile from your lips.

Another masked child added on in a matter-of-fact, neutral tone. "You know how to play along; we like that."

At the center of the group, Majora nods. Majora never spoke much to you, nor did you see them often. "Yes. Your fun; you made Christmas very fun too." Their girly voice, murine and juvenile.

Soon after, an older member leaned down, whispering into Majora's ear. The two conversed while others listened in, joining the murmuring. The group giggled as the talk finished. Majora turned back to you, taking a brief look at you sitting on the grassy fields of Termina. Majora approached, lifting their covering to reveal their face.

You held your tongue; it wasn't the first time you had seen a Moon Child's marred visage. Certainly, it was not an easy sight to adjust to. Deep gashes on the face and clouded irises, like a muddied pond. Scleras bloodshot and inflamed. Your heart ached seeing someone so young be this hurt. Yet, she—or at least that's what you assumed—was a diamond in the rough. They were all beautiful in their own right.

"We have a present for you." Majora whispered. After adjusting their dirty blond bob, Majora pulled something out of their pocket. Holding it behind their back.

You did a double take, shaking your head and stammering. A gift? They have never given you a material gift before. BEN's gifts were symbolic, like quality time or letting you live. Majora sat in front of you, opening the small sachet that was once hidden. What tumbled out made you gasp.

It was a solid gold necklace, the centerpiece crest moon pendant with a turquoise-colored gem. The jewelry was similar to what BEN always wore.

"It has been ages since we spent the holidays with someone besides each other." Majora leaned in, unclasping the necklace while the others watched on, humming in agreement. "There's not much we can give to you, but we wanted to thank you for your good intent...." Their hand moved away from the jewelry once the clasp was on, looking up to see you all teary-eyed and babbling questions.

The others surrounded you, getting a better look at the waterworks. Someone in the group answered. "It's a lunula, with a moon tear."

A masked face spoke up. "Yes, it is a protective necklace. Luna's grace will protect you when we are not around."

"Do you like it?" The group spoke in a synchronized manner.

Them being so in tune with one another would have been unsettling if you weren't elated. "Yes! Of course, I love it, BEN." No way in hell were you skeptical of the protective properties of this gift. If the Moon Children were giving this thing to you, it's going to work.

"Good." Majora said in a low, honeyed tone, smiling wildly, that their missing tooth was visible.

They leaned into you for a firm hug, almost as if they didn't want to let go. Sowing the seeds of devotion in you as they nuzzled you. You held them in your arms; they were small enough to pick up with ease. Though you wouldn't dare test the thought.

Majora hummed. Premeditation aside, they were relaxed; a genuine sense of comfort washed over them. You were the only outsider they liked to be held by after some warming up. It was a rare occurrence that they even wanted such affection. Majora spoke in a dreamlike, hushed tone.

"We will be there when you wake. We love—"

A grating, piercing alarm blared in your ears, ripping you from the sweet moment. An alarm you don't remember setting. With a grunt, you rolled around in bed wanting to get back into the fading moment. The cold metal against your skin gave you goosebumps, but it soothed you.

Shifting your focus onto the necklace, you smiled. That nostalgic emptiness you once held was replaced. The minuscule glimmer of hope you clung to meant something to someone. You analyzed the necklace, looking over every curve and engraving. The polished gold of the crescent moon harbored your reflection, smiling at your mirror image. A faint, glitchy voice emitted from your phone. 

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

So this is an ongoing argument with my roommate. I (22nb) am autistic, and T (55f) has ADHD.

Now to get this out of the way, i do say thank you. I was always taught to wait a moment after receiving something, take a bite or appreciate what you were given for a breath, before thanking someone so that you could add something more to it. My roommate and I both agree that i do say thank you the vast majority of the time, but the problem for her is that i do not say it fast enough.

T often gives me a "tHaNk yOu" while the item in question is still being passed. This seems ridiculous to me as i haven't even been fully given it yet.

In addition, i have the dishes as my household chore, and i do them daily, despite almost never making any dishes myself. I do this to both support T and her diet, as well as contribute to the household that i live in.

T thanks me near daily for doing the dishes. This always seems weird and unnecessary to me, as it is my responsibility. I have told her this. I dont expect to be thanked for doing my own laundry, after all. In return, T gets upset that i dont notice and thank her for taking out the garbage/recycling/compost, to which she is the main contributor to and is under her responsibilities.

As for please: i do say this much more rarely. I think it feels overly preformative and fake, and i typical choose more "would you mind closing my door for me" "if its not too much of a hassle, could you toss me my waterbottle" "id appreciate it if you could preheat the oven while you're in the kitchen"

I think that these work perfectly fine as a replacement. Please just has always felt wrong and fake. No one else in my entire life has ever commented on this before.

Thirdly; T has been upset that i don't respond to her apologies appropriately. After she is snappy at me (due to her emotional disregulation from ADHD) (last time it was because i asked if she was using the oven instead of asking if i could use the oven myself, for reference) there is a 50/50 shot that she will come and apologize.

I dont often accept apologies. Apologies are for the person saying them to get it off their chests, or to make you put it behind them. Usually, ill say something like "it was just one of those days, y'know?" Or "its alright, water under the bridge"

Because i was always taught that apologies came with a promise of change, and T can't (or won't) change how she re-directs her frustration at unrelated things to things ive done "wrong". When she told me the correct response was "i forgive you", i decided to not engage instead of telling her directly that i didnt forgive her (because i am certain she will do it again). (I usually dont engage with her when shes irritated: she never notices and just wants to say her piece so im not being rude here)

She said that i was being disrespectful, "like always", and when i suggested it may be more difficult for me due to my autism, she said that we made plenty of accommodations for me (which i think is false), and that i just needed to do this for her comfort. That please/thank yous were something she needed to feel appreciated and i should be making more accommodations for her.

To me, i feel like she is getting really caught up on semantics and is being a little controlling about it. But maybe its just a boundary? I dont know if i could commit to changing my language for her though, i feel like i will just start forgetting after awhile because it feels so fake. Shouldn't it be better for me to say things genuinely than just for her approval?

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I find it funny that people are praising evil fact checker when all he literally did was ask Chat GPT to go over something in a certain way. Probably adding a smidgen of flare himself.

I did look at the study. And I disagree with their weasel wording. The study shows something pretty plain and simple but rather than admit that they're like, "oh well this actually doesn't show open-mindedness this just shows um something different entirely".

The entire point to my post was proving that the left always works in lockstep. And that amongst the people considered left or Democrat they will walk in lockstep because they are collectivists and Marxist. Where is moderates and Republicans mostly don't agree on a lot of different things and I have a huge range of differing opinions. Because they do not walk in lockstep. I also greatly disagree with the person I was debating with before who said that they view open-mindedness as an inherent good. When realistically it is inherently neutral. And while we know the questions we do not know the presentation of these questions or how the answers were expected.

Which is an issue I frequently take with staticians. And it's funny too because academia is captured by Marxists. So of course they're going to claim that has absolutely zero to do with open-mindedness. Those same exact people told a particular black professor to shut his trap whenever he was going to publish findings that showed that interactions with cops amongst black Americans was often not bad. If the truth makes your ideology look bad to the point where you have to either not publish findings or hide findings so you can come to a different conclusion your ideology is not backed by science or fact.

And if politically your entire group is walking in lockstep that means they're not very open-minded that literally can't mean anything else no matter what kind of weasel wording you use. And no amount of semantic garbage will change that. Keep dick sucking the robot though I guess.

[emotionallychargedtowel]

BL & tokusatsu meta master post

(featuring more Utsukare posts than you can shake a stick at)

Posts covering multiple shows

Fungibility in Zettai BL and Zenkaiger - Applying Martha Nussbaum's typology of objectification, specifically the "fungiblity" type, to Zettai BL 3 and Zenkaiger

The pursuer-distancer dyad & how it applies to the world of BL - a primer on this psychological concept and how it applies to BL generally, touching on how it applies to Utsukushii Kare, Semantic Error, and To My Star 2

BL ask game: Long-term pining and grumpy/sunshine

My top 5 rewatched BL scenes, responding to an ask by @wen-kexing-apologist (shockingly, it's mostly Utsukare)

Kamen Rider Gavv

Reblogging @nctzenkane via @fadedsaturated to note the parallels between Shouma Stomach and Stacey from Zenkaiger

Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger

Kaito x Stacey: Being seen authentically & the value of consent - A look at some of the factors that make the Kaito/Stacey ship on Zenkaiger so compelling

He-who-gets-thrown-out-like-garbage - About a possible etymology of Stacey's name

Zettai BL (season 3)

What's different about Hatano, part 1 - In short, Hatano isn't fucking around.

Part 2 - Hatano's awareness of Mob's fourth wall-breaking and other ways he sometimes senses Mob's reality in a way no one else has

Part 3 - Hatano's perseverance, his oddly effective running-away strategy, and exploiting the age gap

Part 4 (the final installment) - Hatano seeing Mob authentically (not objectifying him) and the way the BL-within-a-BL storyline changes the way the audience relates to him

25 ji Akasaka de

Prying off the shell - Mihara's observation about how Shirasaki lacks a "shell" (a kind of social self) while Hayama has an impenetrable series of shells within shells, what this really means psychologically, and the implications for how they relate to each other.

Nominating a runner for 25 ji - After the penultimate episode, @my-rose-tinted-glasses and @lurkingshan posted about who should have to do the traditional JBL run (or the equivalent thereof) and I responded.

Hayama's mask finally slips - Looking closely at Hayama's affect in the opening scene of episode 9 and processing the level of blorbo distress this entails .

Over-analyzing the finale trailer in a vain attempt to try to manage my pre-finale angst.

The Eighth Sense

The Eighth Sense e5 & e6: Portraying trauma with nuance

On The Eighth Sense episodes 7 & 8

The Eighth Sense episodes 9 and 10: All we can do is try

Bokura no Shokutaku/Our Dining Table

Thoughts on the "spinoff" (bonus episode) as a logical extension of the leads' character arcs.

Old Fashion Cupcake

I had a realization about Nozue's constant, somewhat inappropriate complimenting of Togawa while looking at a gifset and reblogged it with my thoughts.

To My Star

Revisiting To My Star: A pursuer meets a distancer (season 1, episodes 1 & 2)

Revisiting To My Star: It's really hard to meet someone who's fun to be around (season 1, episodes 3 & 4)

Revisiting To My Star: This is considered flirting (season 1, episodes 5 & 6)

Revisiting To My Star: If it's hard for you (season 1, episodes 7, 8, & 9)

Notes on a gifset by @jimmysea - Nerding out big time on that one season 2 kiss

Only Friends

Sand, compulsive caregiver - On Sand's documented history of parentification and how it relates to his relationship with Ray

Only Friends characters' fragrance preferences - Assigning each of the lead characters a favorite fragrance based on their personalities, with some made-up backstory

Minato's Laundromat

About that Minato's Laundromat season 2 storyline... - Commenting on a certain character's traumatic brain injury and its effects from a psychology perspective

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Chu chu chu; or, intimate scene tips from the Kiseki cast

Brief commentary on a reblog of some behind-the-scenes footage

HIStory 3: Trapped

A reblog of the "chu chu chu" post about Kiseki that adds similar information about how intimacy was handled on the set of HIStory 3: Trapped - featuring a helpful linguistic note from @nibupei

and, last but not least...

Utsukushii Kare meta

The psychological paradoxes of Utsukushii Kare

This was intended to be a series of three posts (maybe one day I'll get the other two out?) discussing things about the characters that may seem contradictory at first but can be accounted for by digging deeper into some psychological concepts.

Part 1: Covert grandiosity and finding status through idealization - A look at 1) the subtle ways Hira shows that while his self-image can be highly negative in some ways, in other respects he feels superior to others and 2) how by elevating Kiyoi’s status and humbling himself in comparison, Hira attains a different kind of status.

An addendum of sorts to part 1: Hira's parents and his self-defeating tendencies - Some guesswork about how Hira's parents could have contributed to his self-defeating personality and specific self-defeating strategies he uses in his relationship with Kiyoi and elsewhere.

Utsukushii Kare through the lens of pursuer-distancer dynamics and related psychological concepts:

The pursuer-distancer dyad & how it applies to the world of BL - See above in the list of multi-BL posts. This one isn't super focused on Utsukushii Kare but is pretty de rigeur for understanding my UK posts on this topic.

Paradoxical roles; or, I think I finally figured out the pursuer-distancer dynamic in Utsukushii Kare - This post comes after some of the ones listed below but I recommend reading it first as this is really where I finally cracked the code on this aspect of the story.

Pursuer-distancer roles & attachment style in Utsukushii Kare, Part 1: Hira - In-depth discussion of Hira's role in the pursuer-distancer dyad, his attachment style, and his personality.

Pursuer-distancer roles and attachment style in Utsukushii Kare Part 2: Kiyoi - In-depth discussion of Kiyoi's role in the pursuer-distancer dyad, his attachment style, and his personality.

Re-evaluating pursuing & distancing in Utsukushii Kare season 1 - working out my thoughts about pursuing and distancing in season 1.

On the way Sakai Mai (the series' director) uses seme left, uke right framing and its significance in BL and other Japanese media:

Using an example from the s2e1 with the girl who hits on Hira at a party (via a reblog of a gifset from @nanons)

On the way Sakai flips Hira's and Kiyoi's position in the frame in two versions of the same scene and what it tells us about its significance

How the persistent/cute trope plays out in Utsukushii Kare season 2, plus related overanalyses of the big season 2 finale kiss:

The persistent and the cute - how "persistent" and "cute" are code words with specific meanings in BL/yaoi/other drama and manga genres/Japanese culture more broadly.

Analyzing the season 2 finale kiss in light of seme left/uke right framing and the persistent/cute trope in a reblog of a gif post by @nanons

Reblogging @bl-bracket to lobby for the season 2 finale kiss, with more overanalysis

Fragrance nerd discussion:

This bittersweet fragrance - on the significance of osmanthus/tea olive in Utsukushii Kare season 2, with additional information on the possible significance of the fragrance of osmanthus and perfumes that are either osmanthus soliflores or feature prominent osmanthus notes

Posts on specific season 2 episodes:

initial thoughts about S2e1

Additional (informal) thoughts on s2e1

S2e1 rundown

Hira's incongruous/misaligned affect at the end of s2e1

S2e2 rundown

on S2e2, including pursuer-distancer dynamics and seme left, uke right

Utsukushii Kare S2E4: “face me straight on” (mostly discussing relationship dynamics pointed out in topic-specific metas)

on Utsukushii Kare: Eternal:

Kiyoi and Anna: on Kiyoi’s friendship with Anna and its significance for his personal growth

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Okay, so a big problem I am having being able to socialize myself again is that I do not do well in groups, especially mixed age interest based groups. To explain why in a way that isn't hyper-detailed and super personal, I'm going to tell you a story about something that happened at work. This was either one example, or two examples melded together, who can say who was involved or what role any real person might have played, but I think it demonstrates the problem.

I'm new. A whole batch of us are. Fresh out of training, anxious maybe, about the phones and customers, but first we have to do a team building exercise.

The exercise is this: Your group are now the survivors of a plane crash on an island. You can each only carry one thing reliably due to injury or whatever excuse and you have to work together to survive. You also have to prioritize what to take, because there's only so much you can carry or keep track of. You are given a list of what is on the plane. If your group comes up with a list of what to prioritize that matches what the expert says is the best call, your group can win a pizza day. This motivation still works on young adults for some reason. Shitty corporate pizza, but okay.

You want to get along with your coworkers and not be hated, you don't need to be liked and you aren't really there to socialize, but you have to work with these people for the rest of an untold number of years, probably. You do not care about the pizza, but they do, so you do and you want them to not hate you, so you are in fact being polite and trying to be as friendly and gentle as possible.

A tall pushy man/woman takes charge immediately and says the top priority -in a rain forest- is to stay dry, so you should take the garbage bags first to make ponchos...

You raise your hand, forgiven because you are only on your second job out of high school and you don't know how else to do this politely. They call on you, swayed by your polite behaviour. You point out that you are never going to stay dry in a rain forest and don't need to because it isn't that cold, but that the machete is going to be your primary weapon, tool, and way of cutting through the brush. You point out that as a top priority, you should probably take the machete.

If you were a large man who looked like you would be good at surviving alone in the brush everyone would want to listen to you... But you look like a teenager, still sound like a child, and otherwise appear like you are a woman who might pass for 20.

The self appointed leader is super snide and takes one look at you all in black and decides you are just being 'edgy' or something and down-talks the suggestion. They clearly have no clue what they are talking about, but they also see themselves as in charge and no one wants to argue.

Next they want to take the broken radio. You politely point out that they don't have the tools to fix it, and that -ignoring whatever you aren't going to claim to be able to do- no one in your actual group has the skills required to fix that. You try to point out that it's only use is potentially using the fine bits of metal in traps or maybe to fish by some stretch. You again suggest taking the only weapon and tool available like it's a top priority. You are again shut down, kind of rudely, like they think they are fighting and winning a semantics and social approval battle instead of trying to actually reason out what is most needed for survival/pizza.

You can feel the pizza and the machete slipping through your fingers, but you can't force other grown adults to listen to you and you aren't going to try.

You get to the third item on the list, and when pointed to, you -again- suggest the machete... This is again shut down and they stop allowing your input at all and talk over you loudly any time you try to join the conversation. They basically tell you that you can just take the stupid knife and go, if you're that hung up on it.

So, in this mental exercise, you take the machete, write out your own list of priorities and sit and wait quietly until the exercise is over. You can't eat the pizza anyway due to food allergies and not being able to share food with people, and you were just trying to help your team win, but you can't make people listen and you aren't going to argue with them. Every time you speak up now it's treated as annoying, so you stop participating.

Maybe one other person in the group sees all this and either because they realize you are right, just don't like how everyone is treating you, or maybe they think you're cute idk, they decide they're going to go sit with you and chat about your list while mr/ms bossy finishes whatever they thought they were doing trying to make 10 or so other independent adults bow to their authority for some reason. There's probably one of those social hierarchy things at play that you have no respect for, like they have tenure or are the oldest or are the only parent in the group, or whatever people think gives someone authority in mixed social situations, and you just aren't going to fight with the biases at play here to try to point out that most of these people are missing the point of the exercise. Also that you are supposed to be a group of equals with one person tasked to write things down, not be the boss.

The point of the exercise isn't to figure out who's 'most right' and the best leader. The point of the exercise is to work together to not die by collectively reasoning through what your best moves are. But no one wants to hear that and it's a stupid game at work, and honestly chatting with the only person who would go out of their way to be nice to someone is a better use of time than arguing with boss bitch over there.

So the results come in and their list is the worst, and they lose by a landslide and basically all die in the thought experiment [you might have survived to rescue, you have the machete], and the "expert" explaining the real priority list is basically saying everything you were trying to point out in one wording or another. Another team may have won by copying your list, because it was spot on about everything or only reversed the last two items or something that were both basically pronounced useless anyway... And you just try not to make eye-contact with anyone.

Because you know what's next.

Everyone is:

defensive as fuck

pissy you didn't somehow force them to listen

You did not say "i told you so" you did not even look at them, but your presence there says it anyway...

So you get this attitude back from everyone and boss-bitch that the reason your team lost the exercise is because you weren't a 'team player' and didn't participate properly...

And I just... Where are you supposed to go with that?

You weren't confrontational, you weren't too quiet about it to make sure people were at least ignoring you on purpose. You spoke up politely and explained your reasoning, probably talking far less than the rest of the group, despite being the only one made to defend their choices like that. From the moment one person looked at you and thought "How dare this -however they interpreted you- speak with such confidence, they can't possibly know shit." you had already been cut out, and there was just literally nothing you could have done to sway anyone. There was no correct response.

And you don't want to sit there and try to point out that if they were going to take charge that way, they should have been listening to everyone's ideas fairly and going out of their way to make sure everyone was heard and understood, instead of immediately becoming confrontational and excluding you... Because you have to work with these people for the next couple years and you just literally don't care what his/her fucking problem is.

The person who sat with you, or the person acting cut out of the other team that copied off of you, then admits that they only thought your were right because they figured you must have seen the exercise on the supervisors desk or something ahead of time. Maybe they're friendly with you for a month or three but then at some point they take you getting stuck on calls though lunch personally, and instead of talking to you about their feelings and your refusal to break the rules and just hang up on customers, they have a good cry and then stop speaking to you.

You now have a reputation as a willful loner.

You were as polite as possible, explained yourself rationally, used a friendly tone, and played along with whatever team building shit was asked of you even though you can't benefit from the group reward, and generally were as considerate as possible while obeying the rules. Your highest crime was not treating a workplace environment like you are there to spend the whole time socializing on the clock when your supervisor has already singled you out to breathe down your neck about performance because you are disabled and have to pee too much.

But no, it's -you- who are the willfully edgy loner, and also mean for hurting that girl's feelings. It's YOU that has the communication problem, and also how/why would you be that good at picking out those priorities anyway, you look like a 15 year old girl. You are too 'obsessed' with sharp object for everyone's liking, and that must be the only reason a person would suggest the machete be made a priority 3 times in a row like their pizza depended on it. Why do you wear all black anyway when you can't even be bothered to do goth makeup or something?

.

.

.

And every offline group interaction you have is like that. Roommates. Friend groups you were talked into tagging along with for d&d or something. People can't reconcile their own biases about you with your actual personality knowledge or skillsets, and no one really likes the vibe of you, even if they are agreeing with everything you are saying out loud [unless they are trying to fuck you]. They go out of their way to cut you out of group interactions or speak over you, and you give up and leave because no part of you is going to waste time with people who make you fight to be included. You are as polite and patient as possible with people while they are consistently aggressive, without actually being meek or something.

You never do anything like actually trying to control another grown adult because you know it's a fools' errand. they are really intent on leaning on your boundaries or outright ignoring them. The shit you said would go wrong goes wrong because they didn't listen, and of course you didn't press the issue or try to make them somehow. This is somehow your fault for not forcing them to listen. Maybe no one dies because this isn't a plane crash in a rain-forest. Maybe they just fuck up your plumbing [or walls, or fan or door, or lights or...] and you are the only one who can fix it so you don't get charged for repairs. They are literally shooting the messenger telling them how mold problems develop, and you would just stop pointing this shit out but you are either 1/4 financially responsible or more... Or it's something they are harassing you about including yourself in when you have obvious reservations for good reasons.

And any advice you can get about how to conduct yourself differently in groups basically amounts to "If you look like a girl people will expect you to preface your ideas and statements with self-depreciating caveats, a polite demure tone is only the very basics of not being seen as confrontational for you, otherwise you will be seen as a bitch and a hothead." And other things and subtle social rules where you are like "yeah I am not doing that." Because they basically amount to "bite your tongue and pretend to be something you aren't so people find you less challenging because you have self confidence and firm -well informed- opinions and no one likes that coming from someone who looks like a girl, comes off like an autistic adult and is a disabled, regardless of how polite they are about it."

And you would think that this wouldn't translate to trying to socialize online, or that being faceless and anonymous would help something, would let people interpret me by my personality and words alone and cut it with their biases about how they perceive my age and gender.

But the way I speak online comes with it's own biases about age and gender, and it still leaves literally every other problem.

One of which is that people seem to read me automatically as somehow not being capable of having the expertise or experiences I claim to have? Like the way I type reads as autistic enough that my own account of anything is automatically discredited. Not just discredited, but it's treated as like automatically insulting that I would speak with any confidence/authority on the matter, even with reasonable caveats of "in my experience"... Because they are reading me as lesser than them.

No matter where I go, no matter how much I say "this is just my view of the situation/ whatever based on my lived experiences but -I- don't personally think this character would [or I don't think this character's motivation are, or I didn't read the scene that way, or I think you are overlooking the potential trauma of that...]..." Someone gets outright offended that I have a strongly stated opinion at all, and actually the more personal experience I share on anything to explain further, because someone is being hostile and trying to demand I justify disagreeing with them, after they asked, the worse it is and the more it requires sharing personal experiences that sound both outlandish and horribly depressing. The kind of shit no one will accept happens to real people.

And it ties back to that whole "I can't talk about myself literally at all without "trauma dumping" and also I can't explain any weird boundary I have without having to explain why something is harmful to me or without explaining how it links back to me being disabled".

Basically, there is no 'correct' was to be disabled and afab and a guy and queer and idk everything else that I am in a group setting. There isn't some way to hold myself or speak that won't inherently make a bunch of people angry.

And there's a lot of "yeah I am never going to tell someone else they are doing fandom wrong but if we fundamentally do not see characters or situations the same way we are never really going to have something to talk about" Like I am not here to control any public narrative about anything the way people online arguing often are, I am just trying to find other people to run off with because we get the same things.

So much of fandom is people discussing characters [example people] in extreme and often traumatizing circumstances. Do you know what it's like to see people talking about shit that has actually been done to you like it can only happen in fiction and like no real living person could possibly know what that's actually like? Like okay, let that slide, I have no need to control or correct anyone, I literally don't care what they think of anything, but we WERE having a discussion, a polite discussion where everyone was sharing their views or experiences, until it got to me and then everyone started yelling.

Also, to me, the point of socializing is to find other people to get to know better who make you feel more understood and less alone, instead of making you feel out of your god-damned mind and increasingly isolated. Sorry, but I am not here to go through the motions of pretending to get along just to feel included, I AM actively fishing for other people who are like-minded -enough- to have a one on one conversation with that doesn't make me tempted to light everything on fire and move to the moon. Sitting in a group chat or setting and just making unobtrusive interjections once every hour is not a good use of my time. It is not what I am into socializing for.

I don't even know if I know how to do group interactions? I've never been much of a group activity person? I'm a 1 on 1 conversation or parallel play kind of person. I get ignored in groups and I let it happen because I refuse to compete for anyone's attention.

So you lurk right? You sit there and watch people talk and try to keep an eye out for someone who maybe gets you. You get very bored and walk away after long enough of the conversation looking like it's taking place between 20 horny 14yo that have zero grasp of the psychological impact or lived reality of anything they are discussing, politics, fandom, sex, power tool abuse, whatever.

You join a fandom server that's explicitly for people over 18 or over 30 that's explicitly about discussing the adult themes in some media as grown adults, and it's just the same conversations, largely from -you suspect- the same people.

You have joined and run away from at least 10 servers because you just couldn't get into it.

When you make fandom posts on tumblr, pretty much no one engages.

When you write fic, people comment in ways to encourage your writing or encourage you to write more, but no one strikes up any personal conversation with you over the media. Certainly no one in your age range or the demographics of people you are going to be compatible with for the kinds of friendships you are looking for.

So you try to join non-fandom interest groups about skills you have, hobbies. You are not 'formally' trained [poor, disabled], but you have a lot of experience working with what you could get your hands on in your basement. You kind of have to understand everything you are doing in a practical 'actually understand the science behind it' kind of way, because you can't afford the real tools or products, you are making some of these things yourself out of whatever walmart has available. So some guy asks a question about what's going on with his attempt at iron acetate staining, as a random -non specific- example, and you tell him what's happening based on your experience of actually making the stain and using it on varying kinds of woods, in various concentrations, and from varying products/supplies and whatever else, and you now have a forum of grown men either pointedly ignoring you or being outright hostile and down-voting you because the explanation of what you said you "think" is happening and the accompanying discussion of the chemistry involved doesn't align with what they had theorized was happening. You run into another forum of grown men insisting nothing bad could come of holding your computer case together with thermal adhesives like hot melt glue... [you suspect in retrospect one of these guys might be Musk based on the amount of thermal adhesive used in teslas, jk]

You join a forum for discussing code-breaking and puzzle solving, born that day on the site, and try to give them a trailhead to a puzzle you made to see if anyone wants to solve it and immediately have 20 guys down-voting you because you didn't know the social protocol for posting something like that yet...

Just don't go on stack exchange ig...

You can't take me anywhere.

I can't take me anywhere.

You try friend making apps and sites and it's the "everyone here is looking to fuck" problem. Because the dating apps weren't enough, they had to invade friend making apps and anon confession apps too.

You kind of WANT to let interested people just approach you at known locations, familiar sites like tumblr where you show up every day, but:

You don't get very much direct interaction even when asking for it

anyone going out of their way to speak to you might be an ex/stalker of yours who found your page and there isn't much you can do to have them prove they aren't

Social climbing and the panopticon is real and there's only so many times someone who claims to be your friend can unfollow you, be short with you, engage in weird social climbing behaviours, or respond with thinly veiled hostility to your posts before you get the sense you weren't actually ever friends and maybe tumbr is a bad place to try to make actual friends.

You have like 2 whole friends and nothing to talk to them about really because you mostly aren't into the same things [you are trying to be but you can't help what you end up interested in]. You know you need a bigger social network than this and different friends to interact with in different ways but by gods do you want to find another person you can stay up chatting with for 24 hours without noticing the time go by, who doesn't then turn around and treat you poorly the moment you need to take some time to yourself, or express a boundary. You are starting to think the problem is that your mother never let you play with other kids, and no one really talked to you as a child at all, you spent all your time alone being told to occupy yourself and keep your younger sister quiet, and you didn't have any friends until just before junior high at all, and you lost so many people so many times over to moves and circumstances, and maybe you were just never socialized properly at all because you've only ever had one friend at a time, really, if that and not an imaginary friend, and you had to go out of your way for that, fight your parents for it, and any friend you ever had as a adult turns out wanted to fuck you and maybe didn't even like you all that well, and maybe you were a bit neurotic and weird before the pandemic but now you have just strait up forgotten how to act like a person or hold any conversation at all. You hate groups and can't stand anyone and it isn't safe to breathe the air in public for you and maybe this whole concept of being social isn't for you. Maybe it never was.

You really want someone to wrap your brain around like they're your special other person. You miss that. You don't care if it's as a partner or best friend, you just want that emotional intimacy back. You can't hold someone in person, and if having a warm body to hold was your priority you could just open an app and swipe right. Finding a warm body willing to spend time with you was never the problem. You're looking for another mind. To actually know and understand. Missing physical contact with other people is kind of an unsolvable half-related thing.

How disappointing that you don't find anyone appealing and no-one finds you appealing. You aren't meeting the right people. You don't know HOW to meet the right people. You don't know where they are hiding. They don't run in the same places you do. You know there are compatible people out there, you know there are people who would like you and you distinctly remember liking some people... but they're like 30-50 years old, probably not chronically online and probably busy with their jobs and families or something, because they aren't here.

You can't carry a conversation to save your life even in text now, you don't think? It's hard to tell, and you can't stand anyone. This is a you problem. Hours of meaningful conversation with someone was all you had. That was your whole bag. You lost it. Maybe you've gotten too full of neurotic little trust issues to feel attached to anyone now anyway. Good luck with that.

Socializing at all is starting to look like the sex problem. Ace with a high libido. In theory sex could be great if you could just find someone you actually like. Like at all [and if corona hadn't made it a life threatening pursuit even compared to before]. You want a relationship, a friendship but you are completely unwilling to just find someone/anyone to shove into that gap [or to fill a gap for????]. You are shopping but whatever your parameters are you are being too picky for what's available... But these are people and I'll be damned if I ever make someone feel 'settled for'.

You KNOWWW you should have friends. More friends. You know that would probably be healthy but you just don't know how to fix it.

Nobody has any friends anymore, apparently.

It isn't JUST you.

The friend economy is in shambles.

You have suggestions for how to actually help people find a meet compatible people for any purpose, but no one with the resources to implement it will ever take your suggestions seriously because:

trying to monetize it would kind of ruin it

they can't look at you and think you actually might know what you're talking about

Every app demands your location this probably won't ever let up

The air is a deadly poison.

Never fucking mind trying to find a compatible partner. That's like a friend but with a bunch of extra problems.

The more I try to outline the problem the more I just feel like I am sitting here saying "I'm lonely and everyone sucks" but like, it isn't going to serve anyone to try to shoehorn someone incompatible into the kinds of friendships or relationships I am interested in having and I am actually operating under the stubborn belief that the right people must exist and I am simply not finding them.

Maybe I just need to initiate conversation more idk.

I've started to take it as a red flag if I am always the one to initiate or reach out and I don't know how to respond if the people I was trying to get to know just don't ever message first.

I also barely even have time for the friends I have because I am sick all the damn time?

It's me. I'm the problem. [judgement neutral]

[theskiesareopen]

One of the neat consequences of the design of the language I'm working on with operatives instead of macros and a modular categorical semantics, is that everything that would be a keyword or special operator in other languages can be an operative in ours, which means they can be replaced and changed and modified in user code. This means that in this language the problem of two different dependencies of the same project wanting to use different versions of the language reduces to the problem of different dependencies wanting to use different libraries, and no system of complicated features pragmas or standard command line arguments that grow and grow and grow over time is necessary. Instead we can just have different versions of the syntax as ordinary libraries, versioned, polyfilled, dependency injected. Similarly, the formally meaningful modular semantics system means that we can add and remove features without that being a global decision; an old library that uses an old semantics can be transported to a new semantics by a functor, and we can prove that the functor implements all the axioms of the original semantics in terms of the new semantics, and then the old library will work just like a native library on the new semantics, with all its types, code, proofs and properties available for use and to the optimizer. A library written next year and proven correct should still run correctly in 300 years with no maintenance specific to that library. The compiler will of course need maintenance to keep it running on new hardware generations and adopt new technology.

But this isn't just a speculative future thing. Right now, modular semantics are useful in writing a project that works on multiple targets. For example, it might be useful to write a library that does some math which can work when compiled to JavaScript, wasm, or native. These targets have huge differences between them, but with modular semantics it's possible to just write using the minimal set of primitives needed, working from abstract high level collection data structures and math operations, and then any project that works in a specific system can just request a version of your package transported to their system, and all the high level data structures and properties will be filled in with whatever their platform uses to interop at full native speed. This also works in reverse; code that runs in a webpage using webgpu can have different primitives available based on which device they will run on, and not only share common libraries and types between them but also use target specific features like garbage collection or warp level parallel operators, even if the code is mixed in a single file to collect both facets of the implementation of a specific feature, and the compiler will give a nice type error if one of them gets used in the wrong place.

[randomartistherelol]

incorrect quotes with VERY specific characters because why not

Rayman: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

Rayman: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Peppino: Why not? Rayman: Because I don't know what they mean.

Peppino: Just be careful, Rayman! Rayman: heading out the door I'm always careful, Peppino! Rayman: It's everything around me that's careless.

Peppino: I don’t have anything against you, but I can make up lots of reasons to attack you!!

Peppino: My toxic trait is that I truly believe I could win a fight against anybody if I was mad enough. You might have the strength and size, but I have the pure, unfiltered rage.

Peppino: I'm gonna get my pilot's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses. Baldi: The big five licenses? Peppino: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Rayman: Hey besties- Baldi: Die. Rayman: What did I do to you-

Rayman: Baldi, we need that! Baldi, holding Peppino over a trash can: Nope. Rayman: Gimme it— Baldi: It’s garbage.

Rayman: Now, Peppino, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Baldi: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

Baldi: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely! Rayman: With NAPALM.

Peppino is casually searching around the room Rayman: Hey Peppino, what’re you looking for? Peppino: My will to live. Blue walks into the room Peppino: Oh, there it is.

Baldi: What do we say when life disappoints us? Peppino: Called it! Baldi: No.

Rayman, talking about Blue: Is this a friend of yours, Baldi? Baldi: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

Baldi: How do you want your coffee? Rayman: Black, like my soul. Baldi: Baldi: Rayman, your soul is a latte.

Blue: I have been tricked, I have been backstabbed, and I have quite possibly been bamboozled.

Baldi, teaching Rayman to drive: Okay Rayman, what does a green light mean? Rayman: Go! Baldi: A red light? Rayman: Stop! Baldi: And what about a yellow light? Rayman: If you floor it, you can make it! Baldi: …No—

Rayman, reading a recipe: Beat three eggs? Blue: It means like in hand-to-hand combat. Rayman: Ohhhh- Peppino: Both of you get out of this kitchen.

Rayman: If this plan goes down the drain, where should we regroup? Peppino: The afterlife, I guess.

Peppino: You seem familiar… have I threatened you before?

Blue: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos. Peppino: Was that place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

Rayman: Have you heard of Murphy’s law? The one where if something can go wrong, it will go wrong? Peppino: Yeah, I have. Rayman: Have you heard of Cole’s law? Peppino: Is this a joke about coleslaw? Rayman: …maybe.

Peppino: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avacodos get six. Blue, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avacados!

Rayman: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Peppino: I will politely decline.

Rayman: Watcha doin? Blue: Stealing my neighbour’s cat. Rayman: Scandalous. Rayman: Can I help?

Baldi: What’s your greatest weakness? Rayman: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics. Baldi: Could you give an example? Rayman: Yes, I could.

Peppino: I hope you have an explanation for this. Rayman: We have three, actually! Blue: Pick your favorite.

Baldi: School appropriate questions. Rayman: What was the lowest point in your life?

Rayman: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours! Blue: Six? I only got three! Baldi: You guys got sleep? Peppino, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

Blue: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products! Blue: sprays hairspray in their mouth Blue: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Rayman: Peppino, you were so wasted last night. Peppino: I wasn't that drunk! Rayman: …You called a taxi home. Peppino: Yeah! It's called being responsible! Rayman: The party was at your house. Peppino: …Crap.

Baldi, to Rayman: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

[streetlightsontheriver]

It's hard to be open about having OCD bc most of the popular depictions of it are garbage but also people treat the OCD experience really callously in a way that betrays their ignorance of it

Like, I can't sit people down and say "hey it's fucked up that you keep saying you have a serious mental illness when what you mean is you have a normal human obsession" because people would think I'm crazy or overblowing it (do people still say virtue signaling? if so I would be accused of that) but that's what it fucking is when people say they're "OCD about keeping my desk clean"

And "let the intrusive thoughts win" bullshit is all over the place online, polluting the term for a potentially debilitating disability symptom, which doesn't mean we get destigmatized because people feel like they can relate to us now (to be clear, any such "relation" would be based on misinformation), it means I have to worry that people are going to pull out the P-word + tell me that I deserve to be restrained by the state if I tell them what I actually have intrusive thoughts about, because they think they have intrusive thoughts about buying themselves a treat

(inb4 "it's just linguistic change!!!1!"—I'm generally a descriptivist too, but the cause of any semantic shift that's occurred IS ableism! And as we've seen with what happened to "trigger," turning clinical terms into public mockery makes it harder for people to seek treatment without shame!)

If I "let the intrusive thoughts win" I'd be fucking dead. Go to hell.

[jamiesfootball]

18, 34 and/or 79 for the ask game!

18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

I do, and OGYGGIYHNBGL by far. Though I wish my research could be a little more focused.

For instance I just realized a while ago that while I had been doing my due diligence to learn all about football strategy I completely spaced looking into football schedules. As such, everyone is about to have a much longer summer break than I think some of them would technically have, since I wrote the timeline months ago.

Granted, the show's sense of time is very timey wimey to begin with so. It is what is is. Please know I tried my best.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Hard to quantify. There's no one-to-one relation where I'm like 'this happened to me and now it shall happen to blorbo-san', but I definitely rely on some of my own experiences and understandings to flesh out or otherwise understand better what a character might be going through.

Then there's physical sensations. I enjoy including a lot of physical sensations in my work, and I rely on my own experiences a fuckton to flesh out things. Example: I've never been tortured, but I've burned myself cooking a fuckton, so if someone's pulling out a branding iron, I think I've got some pretty reliable sensations to look back on.

79. Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

Write worse faster. I recently learned that one from the It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia podcast. It's a great way to overwrite perfectionism and just focus on telling the story to completion. The difference between this advice and the 'first draft doesn't need to be good' advice is a matter of semantics, but for me Write Worse Faster just works better. It's open permission - ne, instruction - to really let your first draft be as garbage as possible. Once you have a story, you can fix it, but you can't fix a story that doesn't exist yet.

[looksatgirlskissing]

Cataloging my Poorly Translated rainworld experience, the menu already has some gold. The word “cycle” has been translated to “century”, already a good start. gonna report things I find funny or interesting! Loading is “pull the body.”

———

Slugcats (or SNAIL CATS):

Monk- “Meager” and “His name is Sadhu”

Survivor- “Halas ichapa” and “to survive”

Hunter- “Hunter” and “difference”

Gourmand- “Gourmet combination” and “Slow down.”

Artificer- “ARTIST” and “Artifical”

Rivulet- “TI ribulet” and “Delicious”

Spearmaster- “the master of the sleigh” and “He is the master of the window”

Saint- “Vatican” and “Pure”

———

Menu icons:

Campaign- “Stories”

Expedition- “IT IS EXECUTION”

Areas/Maps- “Supervised by two adults”

Arena- “on the field”

Remix- “Remix drawing”

Collection- “OHI”

Options- “You have to choose”

Exit- “get out”

———

too lazy to look at collections all the way through right now, but my favorite line from the pearls I’ve so far looked through was:

“This cell seems to be doing dirty work.”- Metropolis pearl 2, as read by Moon

“This small amenity helps hide the formal atmosphere of the surrounding buildings…”-Music pearl, as read by Pebbles

“…it seems that we must accept that reversing the point of the semantic conjunction is the only way to change what was later called “noise can give milk” (and or sometimes “shake”).”-Garbage Wastes pearl 1, read by Moon

“…and if it’s alive, it’ll eat as little as you. It’s not as dangerous as being stoned to death…”- Garbage wastes pearl 1, read by Moon

[celestialdraught]

Bruh, heard. AI today has got problems. But let me take a crack at answering the questions:

1.) Trillion dollar problem: visual storytelling (movies ($40B), video games (another $347B), comics, etc. etc.)

Time was one programmer could sit down for a few weeks and make a (cutting edge) video game. Those days are long gone due to the complexity of the art. But what if that kind of time commitment was all it took? Everybody who had game idea could have an AI whip up some concept art (today), compose a soundtrack (today), bounce ideas for a script (today), prompt up some AI voice actors (today), program the game engine (today) then storyboard, model, animate (tomorrow? I could be missing some capabilities). You, the 'ideas man', just prompt and test. Prompt and test. Then publish.

Of course, most of the output will be utter garbage. But say you're a publisher and you have your choice to sign, fund, and market an old school video game with years of development and hundreds of paychecks... or this kind of game that crosses your desk every week from some otaku who's worked some AI magic, ready to monetize right now?

I bet Marvel would axe the vast majority of their visual effects department if AI could mimic their output sufficiently. And before you say that will never happen, check the history of AI mimicking things. It's just pixels.

2.) For chatbots, the goal has always been clear, to test whether computers can convincingly imitate humans. Turing wrote this up in the imitation game. And the Loebner Prize has been testing this competitively since 1990. Getting better means duping more humans. Decades of clear goal, objective and easily counted improvement metric, check.

The history isn't as long for art or music mixers as for chatbots, but on the music side you might be impressed at the progress.

3.) When in the history of capitalism have energy requirements for businesses ever been unmet for long? Those who have the money monopolize the resources (in this case, kilowatt-hours). The powers that be will ration your screen time and ban electric vehicles before they turn off their servers, and their congressmen will make it so.

(Do I want this to happen? Of course not. Switch off all the fossil fuel infrastructure and usher in the Green New Deal! But I'm not in the donor class...)

4.) For some tasks, for some humans, the replacement (of AI for human labor) produces results of similar enough quality to justify the price difference to the customers. Don't think in binary (will AI replace all humans?!). Think in market share (how many tasks that we pay humans for now will it be noncompetitive to pay humans for tomorrow given AI alternatives?).

Anecdotally, I've heard the pain of freelance artists, and the joy of those who once hired them (so fast! so free!). Exercise for the reader to find harder economic data.

5.) In living memory the wilderness of the internet was made searchable by semantic databases. Somebody's gonna crack the problem of what data to keep, and how to understand it best.

ed zitron, a tech beat reporter, wrote an article about a recent paper that came out from goldman-sachs calling AI, in nicer terms, a grift. it is a really interesting article; hearing criticism from people who are not ignorant of the tech and have no reason to mince words is refreshing. it also brings up points and asks the right questions:

if AI is going to be a trillion dollar investment, what trillion dollar problem is it solving?

what does it mean when people say that AI will "get better"? what does that look like and how would it even be achieved? the article makes a point to debunk talking points about how all tech is misunderstood at first by pointing out that the tech it gets compared to the most, the internet and smartphones, were both created over the course of decades with roadmaps and clear goals. AI does not have this.

the american power grid straight up cannot handle the load required to run AI because it has not been meaningfully developed in decades. how are they going to overcome this hurdle (they aren't)?

people who are losing their jobs to this tech aren't being "replaced". they're just getting a taste of how little their managers care about their craft and how little they think of their consumer base. ai is not capable of replacing humans and there's no indication they ever will because...

all of these models use the same training data so now they're all giving the same wrong answers in the same voice. without massive and i mean EXPONENTIALLY MASSIVE troves of data to work with, they are pretty much as a standstill for any innovation they're imagining in their heads