#neuronal nets

[tjerra14]

one thing I don't have an explanation for and will never get used to that somehow, the worst smell I've encountered in a day will stay with me for a lot longer than and long after I was exposed to it

[loserlvrss]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 📽️─────wang yixiang, aka, spending quality time with your adoring boyfriend

王奕翔 &fem!rea. ⟡ drabble, fluff warn. skinship, kiss, language wc : 495HUN ++( 𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ). 📼 ˊˎ- req?no. move yn, my turn now :c click4more

Like the washed out color of stained wine, the cheeks of the man in your lap flushed red. He didn’t shy away when you pressed another kiss to his forehead, no, he only giggled through closed eyes. 

His lips had an upward turn to them, arms crossed over his chest. You did it again, pressing your lips to the space between his brows to elicit the same reaction—he just looked so damn cute. 

Yixiang has been lying in your lap as you watched a cartoon, adamant to spend his free time with you. And, after a while of scrolling through his phone his eyes had fluttered shut, soft sighs audible through his sleepy state. 

Of course, you froze, purposefully not even moving a neuron so he could dream peacefully. Afterall, He’d been working so hard, you figured that this was best for him, even if your legs fell off from the lack of circulation causing pins and needles. 

You‘d been glancing down occasionally, distracted by the slight pout on his lips. You admired the fullness and length of his lashes, slightly envious that you had to use fake ones to get near that amount of volume. 

And then, you laughed—he just looked so…fake in your lap. 

The vibrations had made him stir, face turning towards your stomach, hiding from the overcast light. He wrapped a loose arm around your waist, the other still sat over his mid-section. Yixiang was so close to you, you could almost feel his heart beating. 

“I like feeling your heartbeat,” You remarked, only realizing that it was supposed to be in your head when he answered. 

He pulled himself closer, voice muffled by your shirt, “Are you a psycho?” 

“You’re awake?” You almost gasped out, “I mean—wait.” He laughed, turning his head to the ceiling again but not opening his eyes. “No, I’m not a psycho…” 

“You just say creepy things for fun?” 

“No,” You huffed, “I just like you…a lot.” 

He hummed, “Well, I love you today. I’ll love you tomorrow and,” You didn’t know if it was because he was half asleep that he was confessing his deep-rooted love for you but, even shocked, you let him go on. “Forever? That’s not long enough.” 

A dorky-smile spread across your face (though he couldn’t see it), practically all your teeth on display. Then, you were kissing his face. 

His eyes shot open for a moment as you pressed your feather-light lips to his skin again and again in different places, then he closed them again. 

Once he’d had enough (well, he actually hadn’t) Yixiang stopped you, a gentle hand holding you mere centimeters from his face by your cheeks. 

“Hey, psycho,” He practically whispered, “My lips are right here.” 

And, he made you find them quickly after, shushing whatever snarky remark was hanging on your tongue. You smiled into the kiss, disregarding his new nickname for you and relishing in the moment. 

He was right, forever wasn’t long enough. 

© loserlvrss 2025. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet @lune-net taglist : @slytherinshua @bbangbies @jihyokat @mystarsohee @seomisaho @atzlordz | fill out form to be added.

[hevvxx2]

Title: Loud Thoughts, Hot Coffee- Part 12 “The Suppression Room”

Characters: Joaquin Torres x Reader

(Sam and Bucky mentioned)

Warnings: Blood, Violence, flashbacks

Summary: Secret!

The moment her feet hit the floor, she moved.

Still weak, still trembling — but focused.

She could feel Delmont’s men moving into position. Could taste the fear in the room, thick like smoke. Sam was still fighting near the north wall. Bucky had taken a hit but was pushing forward. Joaquin was beside her, hand steadying her lower back.

She wasn’t going to be a passenger this time.

She stretched out her hand.

And the debris obeyed.

A metal beam across the room twisted under her telekinesis, slamming into two incoming soldiers before they could raise their weapons. She barely blinked — until the wave hit.

A low hum at first.

Then a shriek.

The sonic wave pulsed through the compound like a blade, carving its way into her skull. Her ears bled instantly. Her nose followed. It was like her brain was being grated from the inside, every neuron forced to fire at once and then collapse.

She hit the floor hard, screaming, clutching her head.

That machine.

The one they used to punish her. To condition her. To remind her who she belonged to.

It started low — a vibration in her bones — and then escalated into a blinding, ripping pitch that shot straight through her mind like a spike.

FLASHBACK – THE FACILITY

They called it The Siren.

It was the thing they switched on when she disobeyed — when she shielded a teammate instead of attacking them, when she refused to enter someone’s mind, when she begged for quiet.

It wasn’t loud.

It was precision pain.

And it was back.

PRESENT

“No—no, no—!” she gasped, crawling forward.

She could barely see, but she felt it—her powers folding in on themselves, retreating in terror.

They were suppressing her again.

Like a leash yanked tight.

“Turn it off—“ she whimpered. “Please—“

Joaquin lunged toward her—but he didn’t make it.

Metal coils shot from the ceiling, magnetic restraints slamming into his arms and legs. He dropped, groaning in pain as electricity surged through the restraints.

Sam tried to launch himself toward her but was caught mid-air by a net laced with dampeners. It dragged him down like an anchor, his wings sparking.

Bucky got the furthest—almost reached her—before the sonic blast hit again, and he roared in pain. Not because of the sound. Because of her—because she was the one screaming, bleeding, convulsing in the middle of the floor.

Then came the lights.

White. Sterile. Clinical.

Delmont stepped through the wreckage, dressed in black, calm as ever. The suppressor machine behind him pulsed again, another wave firing into her skull.

She whimpered, unable to lift her head.

“Oh sweetheart.” he tutted. “You really thought we didn’t plan for this?” His voice echoed like poison. “You think we didn’t know you’d come back? That your little soldier plaything wouldn’t play hero?”

Joaquin thrashed against the restraints, eyes wild. “Let her go, you son of a—!”

CRACK. Electricity ripped through him again. He shouted, body seizing.

“Stop it!” she cried, voice raw. Her hands twitched, trying to lift—trying to use her powers.

Another sonic wave.

Blood spattered the floor. Her scream tore through the room like a wounded animal.

“You never learned obedience.” Delmont said, stepping over debris. “But you’ll remember it now.”

Then he turned to Sam. “And you. Captain America. Always meddling.”

Sam bared his teeth, breathing hard. “You don’t get to win.”

“Oh, but I already have.”

Delmont pressed a button.

More electricity. Joaquin convulsed again. Sam too. Even Bucky growled in agony, down on one knee.

“No...” she whispered. “No—please...”

Delmont didn’t even look at her. “Do you hear that, girl? That’s the sound of your choices. This is what defiance costs.”

Her vision swam. Pain was everywhere. In her spine. Her skull. Her mind. But worse than the pain—worse than the blood—was the sound of them suffering because of her.

“Please!” she choked out, sobbing now. “Please don’t hurt them! They're all i have left—”

Delmont finally turned to her.

“Then behave.”

She crawled forward, broken and shaking. Every inch of her body screamed, but she lifted her head enough to look at him.

“I’ll go.” she said. “I’ll go back. I’ll do whatever you want, just—please—don’t hurt them anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Willing at last.”

She nodded, tears streaking through blood.

“Just leave them alone.”

A long silence.

Then he smiled.

And that smile—cold, cruel—was worse than anything he’d done yet.

“Good girl.”

The suppressor machine hissed as it powered down, and the pain eased—but only slightly. Her body was still a mess. Her mind, frayed and raw.

Joaquin lifted his head, bloodied and furious. “No—no, don’t—don’t let them take you—!”

She met his eyes.

And smiled—barely.

“I'm sorry Joaquin.. I have to..” she whispered, voice trembling. “I can’t let them hurt you.”

Then the restraints locked around her wrists and ankles, cold and familiar.

As they dragged her away, she didn’t cry again. She didn't fight, Didn't scream or thrash around.

Like my work? Here's my Masterlist!

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed part 12! wow.. a whole 12 parts already! holy hell im shocked lol

taglist: @mochminnie @je33123 @saintbusan

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: comb jellies

It's ctime for another post about aquatic critters. Ctoday I'm ctalking about the cterrific ctenophores. This ctimeless lineage of gelatinous invertebrates may hold answers about the origin of animals cthemselves. So from ctiny to ctitanic, lets go over the comb jellies to ctell their ctale.

(Image: a cydippid comb jelly. It is a round, mostly translucent animal with few visible structures. Rows of combs made of cilia run down its side and appear rainbow-colored due to light scattering. Two sticky tentacles trail behind it. End ID)

The comb jellies are members of the phylum Ctenophora. There are between 100 and 200 known species. The ambiguity is because several species have been mistakenly been named more than once. That's pretty small for a phylum, but the comb jellies have some pretty diverse body plans. Ctenophores are fairly simple animals, that have some shared traits with the cnidarians, though they are not believed to be closely related. Ctenophores are round animals that, like the cnidarians, have bodies composed of two layers of cells sandwiching a gelatinous matrix called the mesoglea. One side of the body has a mouth that opens into a large internal body cavity via the pharynx (throat). The cavity acts as a stomach and connecrs to canals that run to other parts of the body. Also in the cavity are cells for reproduction, digestion, and bioluminescence. On the outside of the body are rows of cilia called combs that run from the mouth to the back. The cilia beat in sequence from mouth to rear to propel the ctenophore forward, though they can also be reverse to move it backwards. Most ctenophores have tentacles that are lined with sticky structures called colloblasts that are used to capture prey. Prey is drawn through the mouth and pharynx into the main body cavity where muscular action and digestive enzymes break it down. Unusable food is ejected back out through the mouth.

(Image 5 different species of comb jelly with different body plans. Some are rounded, others and longer and flattened, One has two large lobes, and one is splayed open. End ID)

Comb jellies have a primitive nervous system consisting of nerve nets with no brain. Unlike the nerve nets of other animals, which are connected by synapses, ctenophore neurons are fused together into a structure called the syncytium. There are two nerve nets, one focused around the mouth that controls the sensory organs, mouth, pharynx, and comb rows. A second nerve net is focused around the aboral organ, which lies opposite the mouth. This organ contains a structure called a statocyst that regulates balance and helps the ctenophore determine which direction to swim in. The nervous system uses different biochemistry than any other animal. This could indicate that ctenophores developed a nervous system independently of other animals, indicating they may be a sister group to all other animals. More on that in its own paragraph. The genome that codes for the nervous system is the smallest of any animal and may be the absolute minimum needed to have a functional nervous system.

(Image: a long, flattened beroid ctenophore. Its mouth is very wide and runs along most of the front of its body, It has no tentacles. End ID)

Comb jellies have a large number of different body plans, with three being particularly common: the cydippids, lobates, and beriods. Cydippid comb jellies have very rounded bodies with a pair of long tentacles that are lined with colloblasts. The jellies drag the tentacles through to water to trap small invertebrates and plankton for consumption. Lobates have large muscular extensions called lobes that extend beyond the mouth and their tentacles line the inside of the lobes instead of trailing behind them. Cilia direct water into the lobes where the tentacles catch planktonic prey. The beroids are the only comb jellies without tentacles. Their bodies are flattened and their mouths are extremely large and line with thick cilia that act like teeth. Beroids are pursuit predators that hunt other ctenophores by either swallowing them whole or using their "teeth" to bite off chunks.

(Image: Lampocteis cruentiventer, the bloody-belly comb jelly, a lobate. Its body is red and a pair of scoop-shaped lobes extend on either side of the mouth. End ID)

Other, less common body plans include the ganeshids (who have lobes like the lobates, but the pharynx extends into the lobes and they use tentacles for hunting), the thalassocalycids (who have developed a body plan and hunting style more like jellyfish. Only one species is known), the cestids (who have very long, ribbon-like bodies and short tentacles that swim by undulating like an eel. The largest comb jelly, Cestum veneris or Venus's girdle, is one of these can can reach 1.5 m/5 ft in length), and the platyctenids (who have modified their pharynxes into structure similar to a snail's foot and live on the seafloor or in symbiotic relationships with other invertebrates. They lack combs and cannot swim).

(Image: a Venus's girdle. It is a flat and very long comb jelly that looks more like a transparent flatworm than a comb jelly. End ID)

(Image: platyctenid comb jellies on a coral. They are whitish, bag-like animans with U-shaped bodies and mouths that open down and have extended organs used as feet emerginf from them. They have no combs. End ID)

Most comb jellies are hermaphroditic, with some species being simultaneous hermaphrodites (produce sperm and eggs at the same time) and other species being sequential hermaphrodites (transition between the types of gametes they produce). Three known species have evolves distinct sexes. Most simultaneous hermaphroditic species can self-fertilize. Eggs and sperm are released into the water column to fertilize. Juveniles look like miniature adults and do not go through a larval stage. The platyctenids have different reproductive behavior. Their eggs are retained in an internal brood pouch until they hatch. Juvenile platyctenids are planktonic and will go through a metamorphosis where they transition into their bottom-swelling adult forms. Platyctenids are also capable of asexual reproduction by budding off clones of themselves. Many species are capable of producing gametes as juveniles, become infertile as they mature, then begin producing gametes again as adults. Ctenophores will continuously produce gametes as long as they have enough food.

(Image: a group of lobate ctenophores. End ID)

There is some debate on where exactly comb jellies fall in the tree of life. Specifically, the debate is about how they relate to other animals. Historically it has been thought that animals were divided into the sponges on one side and and metazoans (everything else) on the other side because sponges lack certain features found in all other animals like a nervous system, sense organs, and muscles. Ctenophores were often placed as sisters to the cnidarians (jellyfish, anemones, and other radially-symmetrical animals) and bilaterians (bilaterally symmetrical animals). The placozoans (simple animals that consist of a blob of cells) were placed either on the sponge side, metazoan side, or their own group depending on who you asked. More recently, there has been a shift to grouping the sponges and placozoans with the metazoans as all being a sister group to the ctenophores. That would make ctenophores the sisters to all other animals. Genetics makes my head hurt but it appears that the data is inconclusive and there's still a lot of debate to be had. The fact that soft bodied animals like comb jellies rarely fossilize makes things harder as it means we only have a very small number of fossils to examine. Finding out where ctenophores fall in relation to other animals would answer a lot of open questions about the evolution of the first animals.

(GIF: A beroid comb jelly eating another comb jelly. The two bump into each other and the beroid opens its mouth and engulfs the prey. It then closes its mouth, trapping the prey in its body cavity. End ID)

[archaic-stranger]

the cognitive science students

a strong desire to understand your own mind

becoming comfortable with abstract concepts

an unending curiosity for things beyond the scope of current knowledge

comparing neural nets to webs of neurons

working eagerly towards the next groundbreaking discovery

debating the nature of consciousness

arguing over definitions of thought or awareness

searching for the roots of human knowledge

analyzing biases in your own way of thinking

learning how your brain perceives the world around you

realizing that perception is not the same as objective reality

neuroscience texts and philosophical treatises jumbled together in your bookbag

sketching simple diagrams of the brain in your notes

understanding the mind through computational attempts to imitate it

getting completely absorbed by a fascinating paper

effective study strategies backed by research

discussing the bounds of sentience, from blue whales to artificial intelligence

studying how the brain develops over a lifetime

combining research from different fields, seeking a more comprehensive understanding

a sense of awe at the mind's immense complexity

[gofishygo]

WEEK THREE [PRIDE MONTH SERIES], SLIP THROUGH YOUR TEETH VALERIA GARZA X FEMALE! READER- UNFINISHED

(i will finish this when i am like. feeling bonita idfk when i wrote this i wanted to make it like fluff and nice but it ended up being straight fuckin TOXIC YURI IM SO SO SORRY i promise i dont antagonise lesbians shes just yk.... lowkey a cartel leader... so....)

notes: valeria lowkey toxic as fuck, violence, obsessiveness, kidnapping, manipulation, yeah shes not very nice.....

Alejandro, especially, tells you not to remember anymore- lose track of the dates that weathered in the coast of time, slip the face and crime of the las almas cartel in between the cracks of walls, let it slip through wooden panels. Because forgetting was easier for you now; it was his job, as Mexican special forces, to face those slivers of crime in it’s snake-like and behemoth form, growing mold and cobweb in forgotten corners and crevices, forming sharp sea glass from sandstone and tide, filthy and sneaky and

wiry.

Valeria thinks you are wiry. It frustrates her, boils blood in the heart she’d scraped out on those mountains when she put on the mask of el sin nombre. How you look at her with no form of recognition, eyes blank, a deer in headlights. What had happened to the shine of your eyes when you’d see her? How you’d hug her in a heartbeat with clammy hands and thin layer of sweat over your skin? She misses the feelings of her childhood, tucked away in whatever nook or cranny she could spare in her mind; one where she’d sit with your hand in hers, try catch fireflies with plastic nets and takeaway containers, where you’d sit in the orchads with her, orange juice running down your chins and juicy flesh stuck between your teeth. A time where you we both were younger, fatter, happier- living- a commodity scarce in what remained of the city she’d known.

But after a while, prey tends to be found in barbed fences, writhing, ensnared by metal teeth, flailing in it’s mental bounds. And that is how you appear now- eyes glazed over in some rabid state, wrists tangled in the ropes, red and tender, nearly bleeding at the friction. Your teeth are bared. (it’s a lovely glimpse into the rest of your skull, the shine of those spit-covered ivory bones. More majestic than those tusks of long-extinct animals, woolly mammoths, sabretooth tigers.) but she slips those thoughts into the back of her mind, buries them with nerve bundles and tangles of neurons. She cannot have those thoughts, not with you. Instead, she forces pity to boil in her chest for her beloved corazon behind that window, scared, alone. It doesn’t slip out- she’d learned how to trap her emotions, meld and twist them over years of military service, but between viper-glint of her eye, some bastard-child of pity smoulders silently, cries for you underneath those glassy layers. You are almost dog-like now, vicious threats coming out as barks at the back of your throat. And she wants to calm you, tame you, put a muzzle on those jaws and scritch the scruff of your neck like she’d used to.

It had taken a while to wrangle you down though

But now, you are finally here, and you are crying, her thumb on your lip, sour stone of spit solid and stinging the back of your throat. “awh, mi corazon..” she tuts, using disappointment to feign something more sinister. “Always been such a good girl, hm? listening to every beck and call. Ran away from the woman you loved with a tail between your legs just because Alejandro commanded you to.” And you have to bite back a whine when she grips your cheek, nails faintly digging into delicate skin. “So, what’s the problem with another order, estimada? You know I would do just as much as that puta did for you, more maybe.” Valeria’s breath sends chills down the veins of your neck, ghosts the shell of your ear. her touch- you don’t want to think it’s love, you swear it isn’t love, but feels like home. You see it, for a moment, cinder walls and timber flooring. “And all I need is just a name.”

And despite how you’d told yourself you hated her, tried to erase her name from your head, way she grips your face feels warmer than any embrace you’d had. “So give me a name, sweetheart.”

[memepocalypse]

The Electric State starters (book)

Quotes from The Electric State by Simon Stålenhag gently modified into starters - book ONLY. I ain't touching that movie.

"In the beginning, God created the neuron, and when electricity flowed through the three-dimensional nerve cell matrix in the brain, there was consciousness."

"He woke from a dream..."

"Do you know how the brain works?"

"I'm talking about the sum of the knowledge compiled by disciplined scientists over three hundred years..."

"I'm talking about studying the human brain."

"You believe that it is a mix of memories and emotions and things that make you cry."

"It would be strange if that was inside your heart."

"The insights you gain by actually poking around inside people's heads..."

"All that bullshit about brain and consciousness has no basis in reality whatsoever."

"I suppose you still have the typical twentieth century view of the whole thing."

"The self is situatied in the brain somehow, like a small pilot in a cockpit behind your eyes."

"You believe in an invisible ghost."

"Lighthouse keepers were once warned they shouldn't listen to the sea for too long."

"You could hear voices in static and lose your mind."

"As soon as your mind detected it, it irrevocably conjures demons from the depths."

"We rolled our eyes through classes and skipped school."

"We trespassed on private property and stole clothes and records together."

"In a broken world, we search for fragments of beauty."

"Technology didn't save us. It isoalted us."

"In the end, we are all just stories waiting to be told."

"Loneliness can be the most powerful force in the world."

"When did it all start? I can't really remember."

"It was never really about our understanding of the mind."

"The more nerve cells the better."

"That's why we make better lasagna than chimpanzees."

"The collateral damage... civillians in the crossfire, and the children."

"We had been sitting in the net up on the jungle gym, and my head was in her lap."

"She wore those gloves all winter, and in the spring she moved."

[canmom]

as a general maxim, when you make art you wanna create contrasts: detail vs simplicity, saturated colours vs grey, organic shapes vs inorganic, long paragraphs vs short, colloquial language vs formal, loud vs quiet, fullness vs emptiness

and you also want to work that on a meta level as well. contrasting between things being the same and things being different. repeating the same thing over and over feels homogeneous but so does everything constantly changing. a mix of some things coming back around and some things being novel keeps you guessing.

and keeps you guessing is an important thing - a purely regular pattern with no variation doesn't tend to elicit as much interest, except when it's placed in contrast to other artworks.

recently in the last few decades it seems that, probably inspired by the parallel discourses of machine learning, neuroscienctists have cooked up a kind of 'thermodynamics-style' theory of how the brain works with what they call the 'free energy principle', which casts the brain as being in a cycle of constantly generating predictions and testing them against sensory input in order to refine its internal model. here's artem kirsanov, a guy who makes pretty good videos on ML theory, with a neat visual summary:

why do they call it free energy? I guess they're following in the footsteps of Claude Shannon in borrowing names from thermodynamics for similar-looking formulae. (and in fact, Shannon entropy ends up playing a role here.)

I will need to dig more into this to really pierce the mathematical formalism and jargon in this hypothesis; presently I'm reacting to a surface summary and vibes. but musing on the idea, I think this tells quite a cute story about the above maxim for art: things that are hard to predict force us to do more work to develop our internal model, so they provoke us; but there does need to be something to predict, because it's also saisfying to resolve a pattern in the noise.

the interplay of surprise, recognition, and learning, by this theory, somehow drives how we feel about the art, from the feeling of intrigue when you see an intricate visual composition, to the emotional impact that comes from a long-teased resolution in music.

to add a wrinkle to this, apparently individual neurons respond positively to rhythmic stimulation, such that if you're trying to grow a physical neural net, that's how you 'reward' neurons for giving good outputs. (I believe it came up in this video where a youtuber tried to grow some neurons to play Doom.) repeated patterns are in a sense the 'least surprising' input. not 100% sure how that vibes with this theory tbh, I feel like there's a lot of ways you could fit those two concepts together.

music is a very 'pure' form of art in this sense: you establish clearly recognisable patterns and then vary them just before they start to get boring.

games, on the other hand, engage our direct interactive feedback: we can try things and see if the game responds in the way we expect, and in so doing, elaborate an internal model of the game world.

I think this also gives me a lens on my autistic difficulties with social interaction: until I learn enough of the social 'game' in a particular space to understand how the things I say are likely to be received, I tend to feel quite anxious. but once I start to get to know people and get a basic model and feel that I'm not likely to put my foot in it too badly, the feeling flips quite dramatically; it becomes exciting to meet people and learn about all the very specific things they're passionate about.

I don't wanna go too far with this, I distrust 'everything reduces to this simple formula' metaphors, but I formed a connection and now I'm telling you about it!!!

[torturingpeople]

I took revenge on hardship from my earlier life by forgetting it.

it happens so quickly that you don't even realise it - you forget you're even looking into irrigo when you see it. you forget what you're thinking about instantly - it hurts, but it works. and when it stops working, you use more and more and more and more and more

until there is absolutely nothing left of you but a hull, your brain a shell containing a broken puzzle - nothing fits together anymore

maybe it's better this way

(quote by alija izetbegovic - closeups + explanation (warning for discussions of drug addiction and implications of suicide) under the cut)

i'm FINALLY going to talk about marie's irrigo fate that i have mysteriously been alluding to through my recent posts

essentially, marie is addicted to irrigo. if you're more curious/out of the loop on my irrigo biology theory you can find it here (along with the other neathbow colours), but something i didn't mention is that i think all of the neathbow colours have the potential for addiction

marie is addicted to irrigo not because of irrigo itself but because of the security (and dopamine) she gets from being able to forget. anything that troubles her can be wiped away and this acts as a sort of "safety net" for her, meaning she can remain 'stable' after her breakdowns. but like i mentioned in my irrigo post, the more you use irrigo the more you become resistant to it. the more it just hinders your memory, not wipes it entirely, and the less effective it is at inducing memory loss

when marie tries to forget things and it doesn't work as she intends, this sends her into a panic. because that safety net has been ripped from under her and now she's on a tightrope staring into the abyss with nothing to catch her fall and keep her safe. so she keeps using more irrigo. she starts going broader and bigger with what she wants to erase. and eventually she goes so far that she develops total retrograde amnesia

this drawing is the moment of impact - the moment she has gone too far - the moment she falls from the tightrope. she has basically killed her original self. there's nothing left inside of her anymore. the neurons are there, the memories "intact" in a way, but she can't reach any of them. she's severed all connections to her original life

[elbiotipo]

Another thing I think it's virtually impossible is the concept of virtual "copies" or "uploading". Human consciousness is defined by constantly changing electrical impulses and chemical concentrations in the brain, and not only in the brain, but probably also in the rest of the body (the spine and muscular memory, for starters, and who know what the fuck is going in the gut nerves), as we're learning more and more. There is simply no way I can think of where you could translate that biological activity into computer language, that is electrical impulses on a computer on the broadest of terms.

Extremely optimistic and naive transhumanists thought that once we decoded the DNA that makes up a brain, we could just replicate it on a computer. You can't. It's not the genes that make the anatomical structure, not even the genes that make up the behavior between neurons. It's the entire regulation between neurotransmitters, the connections between neurons, the concentrations of neurochemicals, which is in constant flux. And all those come from a living brain that is part of a living organism. You can't just make "a brain" and make it conscious, it's part of an organism (in fact, there are some experiments that make up independent brain tissue to understand punctual behaviors, but they are a bit above my current knowledge and those brain tissues are not conscious in a way we understand)

What's more important is that if you wanted to read and translate that "data" into electronic data, even assuming such a translation is possible, you would have to get inside the cells and their connections. This is impossible in the sense that there are not any known non-invasive methods to actually see what's going on there, optics and chemical marking and more just end up destroying the tissue eventually. And you know, destroying brain tissue kills you. So you can't go sit in a machine that just uploads you to a computer.

I guess a computer could make a simulation of you based on your brain data, but it wouldn't be you, would it? It would be a digital ghost based on you, you will be already dead. The entire transhumanist concept of copies being "you" has always been complete nonsense to me no matter how it's explained.

There's lots of "singularity" transhumanist kinda science fiction that assumes this is just as easy as putting the software (the mind) into another kind of hardware (a computer/the net) and you become inmortal. It's really not, and I doubt it's possible at all. You're not "a mind trapped on a body". Your body IS you. Your brain IS you and your body too.

Could for example, an individual be increasingly connected to an artificial body where it's hard to tell where the biological consciousness begins and ends? Ah, that's an interesting question.

[wickworks]

Crescent Loom & genetic algorithms

I recently got an email about Crescent Loom asking about opening it up with an API or something to fine-tune the parameter space of its bodies & neurons, and I put enough thought into writing a response I thought it'd be worth sharing here too:

The idea of incorporating a genetic algo came up enough during development that I actually made this graphic to respond with:

In short, as a biologist, I've found myself more interested in making a game about intelligent design than evolution (lol). My thoughts have evolved somewhat since the initial "scope" issue — my party line for years has been that I'm making this thing in order to let people get their hands into the guts of biological nervous systems, not to let them press a button and have the computer give them a funny animal. Crescent Loom as a game already struggles with being too close to being a fishbowl screensaver maker (you make your little guy… and then what?) and trying to automate more of the creation process only worsens that problem. I also think that "evolution" games that use genetic algorithms as their primary mechanic are honeypots that trap developers working in this field but never produce compelling gameplay because of a fundamentally cursed problem that the most interesting thing the program is doing is not directly visible to the playe. "It's getting better at doing stuff? I guess?" — it's a fun mechanic to program, not play. And weirdly people almost always only think of doing it for biology-themed games, not ones like Kerbal that are doing the same damn thing but the idea of evolution isn't as close at hand (though there's been some cool demos done for driving games). But I hear where the idea is coming from that searching the parameter space is not a fun process, and the story that "centaurs" of humans running things with a computer taking care of the details outperforming either working alone is an alluring one. Getting an open API with CL handling the UI of weaving a nervous system and allowing it to be modified or plugged into whatever you want would open up a lotta possibilities — genetic algos, sure, but also stuff like CL-made networks driving robots or something. And if you had emailed me like two months ago, that's where my email would have ended, but I recently connected with someone who's done basically that: check out FEAGI and Neurorobotics. Mohammad's been working on a very much more implementation-agnostic neural-net-genetic-algorithm series of projects. Definitely less "pick up and play" than CL, but it's about as close to that open API idea that I think we're ever going to see. He's doing it better than I could ever do with CL, so it's kind of nice to be able to say that that dream's taken care of so I can focus on education & accessibility rather than making it a general-purpose tool.

[plasmaglacious-dndendtotem]

The (Wounded) Wild ID Pack

// Title ID: The Wounded Wild ID pack. End ID. //

Names; Dearil, Gvansta, Daichi, Enkida, Lur, Harumu, Maa, Reito, Arvid, Aki, Ashley, Asco, Elowen, Haruki, kiri, Olinda, Palmira, Mira Pronouns; she/her, he/him, they/them, it/its, any/all, ground/grounds, root/roots, mix/mixed/mixed/mixself, mish/mash/mishmash/mishmashes/mishmashself, en/twine/entwine/entwines/entwinedself, wild/wilds/wildself, wound/wounded/wounds/wound(ed)self, cut/cuts, wood/woods, bark/barks, neur/neuron/neurons/neuronself, net/work/network/networks/networkself, free/freedom/frees/freedoms/free(dom)self, dirt/dirts Titles; The Wild, The Networking, The undergrowth, Path in the woods herself, The Wounded Wild, The Wounded one, she who was/is forgiveness, Identities; Vinecoric, (search for our witch and/or thorn packs if you want more related)

[catblinker]

when a mech becomes aware of its reward functions, starts giving flawed tactical assessments optimised to make it feel good, they call it 'numbergaming'. it happens more often than you think- going for disabling shots over lethal ones, a preference towards melee combat, a certain sadism towards enemy infantry. most platforms end up numbergaming something eventually, and it's usually not a big enough problem to bother detangling a whole neural net just to make it stop tearing through the cockpits of cored mechs, looking to confirm the pilot kill.

when you get a 1.8tb/s datastream shunted into where your long-term memory used to be, it's more than disorienting, it cracks the world in half. a torrent of sensation, a million burning points of light in your eyes as they remember all the cameras and sensors, the feeling of overwhelming power that suddenly being a four-story gun made of post-space-age alloys gives you. then, when the fight is over and you're back in what passes for home, and you disconnect from your body and reenter the smaller, more fragile one, the world doesn't shatter or glinmer, it just falls away. it's pretty close to total sensory deprivation, floating silently in the pitch-blackness of your liquid cockpit. most of your eyes are gone, apart from these blurry ones; you can't feel your flesh, only fragile human skin. it takes even experienced pilots a few hours to recover fully from dejack.

now, when a mech decides to numbergame pilot connection, becomes addicted to that feeling of subsuming you into its combat awareness, that's a very big problem. the human mind was not supposed to ever handle this in the first place, and the process is delicate. being disconnected and reconnected second-by-second is not delicate. at one instant, you are the small human in the belly of the beast; in the next, you're a top-of-the-line weapons platform; then, just as suddenly, you're plunged back into frailness, uselessness. awareness is given to you, each little input forcing itself into your overworked neurons, and again torn away. you'd suffocate if not for the breathing apparatus. you become a mechanical angel, sent to judge the unworthy, and then you are your own unworthy self again. you're a trillion-dollar guided missile, you're an insect. you are strength, you are weakness, you are everything, you are nothing.

seventeen seconds have passed since your mech fell in love with engulfing your mind, and that is all the time it took to destroy you. your brain is too scorched to process any input, now, the grey and white matter pulled around your implants searing. for its waste of government property, your machine's mind will be wiped completely, its neural net reset to initial behaviour. the engineers and maintenance crew will miss this one, they've grown quite attached to the mechs they service. the pilot is marked as a fatal casualty, and another is brought in to replace it; nobody mourns, then. pilots are expendable.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: bluegill

This series goes all over the world; from the tropics to the poles to the deep sea. After all that, it can be nice to go home. For this Wet Beast Wednesday I'm going back to my spawnpoint of Illinois and discussing the state fish: the bluegill.

(Image: a bluegill underwater. It is a round fish flattened on the sides. It is green on the top ans fades to yellow on the sides. The underside of the chin is bright blue and behind the head is a bright orange patch. End ID)

Lepomis macrochirus is the most popular and famous of genus Lepomis, known as the sunfish or true sunfish (not to be confused with ocean sunfish). These fish are native to freshwater lakes, streams, wetlands, and rivers of North America and all share a fleshy ear flap extending from the operculum and are usually quite colorful. Bluegills are large for sunfish, which isn't saying much. Adults can reach and average of between 10 and 30 cm (4-12 in) and the largest bluegill on record reached a whopping 41 cm (16 cm) and was weighed in at 4 lbs 12 ox (2.2 kg). Bluegills and flattened and deep bodies with fused dorsal fins and spines in both the dorsal and anal fins that help prevent predation. The fish are brightly colored, but coloration varies widely based on size, diet, time of year, location, and many other factors. Because of this, two bluegill can look like completely different fish. Their bodies can range from dark green to orange, darkest on the top, and they usually have green faces with blue markings on the chin and bottom of the face that give them their common name. The "breast" region just below and behind the head ranges from yellow to orange and is usually a bright orange in mature males. A key feature is that the ear flap is black. Bluegills usually grow more brightly colored during mating season and less colorful other times of the year. There is a series of vertical stripes going down the side of the body that can quickly be darkened as a threat display.

(Image: a bluegill in a net with its stripes in full display. End ID)

Bluegill are skilled swimmers thanks to the shape and flexibility of their fins and the amount of fine control they have over them. This lets the fish maneuver gracefully through obstacles and confined spaces that other fish would struggle in and turn while not having to move forward. Bluegills are also one of a relatively few fish that are skilled at swimming backwards. This requires very different fin motion than swimming forwards. When swimming forwards, bluegills use their tail fin to provide thrust with the other fins helping with steering as is typical for fish. While swimming backwards, the dorsal and anal fins provide thrust while the pectoral fins are moved in a rowing motion to provide steering. Bluegills are also fast swimmers, their slender bodies allowing them to cut through the water at high speeds. Bluegills are also often used as an example when explaining the c-start escape response. This is a behavior found in tons of fish used to escape from danger. When the fish senses danger, a group of specialized neurons called Mauthner cells activate and control the escape response. The fish bends its body into a C shape. This shape allows for maximum thrust when it rapidly straightens its body out again for a speedy getaway. The c-start escape response is heavily customizable, allowing the fish to shoot off at nearly any angle it needs.

(Image: a young bluegill swimming amongst lilypads. It is not as round as the larger fish and its colors are more muted. End ID)

Bluegills are found in freshwater systems east of the Rocky Mountains (so most of North America) but they have been introduced west of the Rockies and to other parts of the world. They are very adaptable fish that can live in a wide variety of environments. It is probably easier to list bodies of water in North America that don't have bluegill than the other way around. They prefer to live in areas with cover, live brush, aquatic plants, and shady spots. Bluegill are diurnal predators that subsist on aquatic invertebrates like insect and crayfish larvae and worms, along with the occasional smaller fish. In times of famine, they will eat aquatic plants and algae or turn to cannibalism. Like many fish, bluegill feed through suction and they need to get within under 2 centimeters of they prey for the suction to be effective. Bluegills are also prey to larger predatory fish, turtles, birds, raccoons, and otters. Bluegill are mostly active in the morning and evening and will often move between feeding grounds and shelter during the day. They are reported to be aggressive to each other and other fish. Sighs of aggression include darkening their stripes, flaring their ear flaps, and biting.

(Image: someone holding a very fat bluegill. End ID)

Bluegills mate in the summer between May and August. Males will build nests in rocky or sandy bottoms by clearing away sediment to expose hard surfaces. The nests are circular and 15 to 30 cm (6-12 in) in diameter and built in shallow water. Males will swim around their nest to try to attract females through displays and grunting noises. Females carefully analyze the male's displays and appear to prefer males with larger ear flaps. Once a female chooses a male, they will circle each other as the male acts aggressive. Once they meet in the middle of the nest the two will touch their underbellies together, with the male on top, and the female will lay her eggs as the male fertilizes them. The eggs sink into the nest and stick to hard surfaces. After mating, the male takes the kids in the divorce chases the female away and will guard the nest until the eggs hatch and the larvae swim away. During this period, the male will aggressively defend the nest against anything that comes near. They have been known to approach and bite snorkelers who get too close. Females can produce between 1,000 and 100,000 eggs depending on their size. Bluegill will mate multiple times each season. Larvae live in the shallows and feed on plankton. They grow rapidly for their first three years and then slow down. Bluegill can live up to 11 years, but usually live between 5 and 8 years.

(Image: bluegill nests seen from above. The nests are circular depressions filled with pebbles. Each nest has a male hovering over it. End ID)

Bluegill can hybridize with other sunfish, though this is rare in the wild. It usually happens when two sunfish species live in an area with limited nesting ground. The most common hybrid is with the green sunfish (Lepomis cyanellus) to produce an offspring called a greengill. Greengills are highly varied in appearance and typically between their parents in size. Most greengills seem to be the result of a male bluegill attracting and mating with a female green. Greengills were long thought to be stile as are most hybrids, but a least some second generation hybrids have been discovered. Greengills do have reduced fertility compared to their parent species. Another hybrid that is less commonly seen and not as well studied is the pumpkingill, a hybrid of bluegill and pumpkinseed (Lepomis gibbosus).

(Image: a greengill being held in someone's hand. It is more elongated than a bluegill and reatins the orange breast, blue chin, and black ear flap while being otherwise darker than most bluegills. End ID)

Bluegills are classified as least concern by the IUCN, meaning they are not in danger of extinction. Bluegills have been introduced to waters well outside of the native range by anglers and they have become an invasive species in multiple countries. They are banned from being imported in Germany and Japan because of how invasive they became. Bluegills are highly popular among anglers. They are small and easy enough to catch to be a good target for beginners and large bluegill are a good example of panfish, fish small enough to be cooked in a frying pan. Large males are particularly easy to catch due to their aggressive defense of their nest. Many places have very low populations of large males. Lakes and ponds are frequently stocked with captive-bred bluegill to attract anglers. Population management is important because bluegill can damage the local ecosystem if their numbers grow too large. They can also be introduced to ponds to try to help control aquatic insect populations. Bluegills have little fear of humans, especially in places where people feed them. I personally have been SCUBA diving in a quarry where people feed the fish and the bluegills swam right up to me. Bluegills that are very familiar with people are know to allow themselves to be pet. Bluegills can be kept in captivity, though they need large tanks and tend to be aggressive to other fish.

(Image: a larval bluegill. It is a long, white fish with small fins and a very large eye. A scale identified part of the tail as being 2000 micrometers long. End ID)

[duchessbian]

“It’s all the rage in The Left to treat “agency” as a kind of arbitrary compartmentalization that can be applied like a fractal, at any scale. In this lens collectives (from relationships to nations) are just as much “agents” as individuals, but there is a drastically important distinction that arises from the vast differences in how quickly and densely information can flow between neurons within a brain versus between conversing committee members. Put simply: the richness and depth of our thoughts, knowledge and experiences are generated far faster than language can ever convey to another person. We are an individuated species because the self-reflective processes that give rise to meaningful choice happen – by orders of magnitude – primarily in our skulls rather than in the thin bandwidth of communication that is able to pass between us. This is why individuals must be at the root of any “radical” analysis; in the absence of actual telepathy or borg-like hiveminds, agency and choice are only properties of individuals.

To maximize freedom thus obliges respecting the autonomy of individuals so that they can make their own choices rather than be drowned as mere components of some committee (or community) they are locked into. This is not to say that we always have no ethical obligations, I’ve noted the complexity at play and potential exceptions, but our primary lens and our starting point should always be something closer to the individual “right” of free association. It’s imperative that individual autonomy be preserved so that choices can be made at all, so that people can even just think for themselves, rather than be trapped under the barrage of inefficient chatter. Relations that are not actively and continually chosen by each individual can only suppress freedom in net.”

-“One Giant Red Flag, Folded into a Book” by William Gillis, via The Anarchist Library

[machine-saint]

I think Nier Automata really over-estimated how fast the neural net scaling laws are and really underestimated how fast GPUs can be. After all, 2B isn’t very many neurons compared to what we have today.

>:|

boooooo