#crowd-sourced data

[jadeannbyrne]

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Jade Ann Byrne Survives Earthquake in California: A Firsthand Account of Resilience and Community Data Collaboration Riverside, CA — July 29, 2024 — Jade Ann Byrne, a celebrated tech-savvy eGirl, multifaceted professional, and community advocate, has once again showcased her resilience and commitment to the greater social good. At exactly 1:00 PM California Mean Time, a…

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all, I am blanking on a word so hard I am even blanking on the words to describe that word What's the term for like...groups of colors? color palettes but more specific? I'm looking for the generic term, but the specific words that are versions of that generic I can think of are things like earth tones, jewel tones, pastels, and maybe brights/neons I'm trying to figure out other categories like those but I cannot figure out what the word is to search

[21st-century-minutiae]

In early twenty-first century internet mapping databases such as Google Maps, most information is at least partially user-generated. Open Street Maps is an open source, crowd sourced, publicly available dataset of any and all geographic information in the style of Wikipedia, where anyone can submit information for any reason, and volunteer users moderate and validate information, to identify egregious flaws, errors, or outright lies. The entire repository of this geographic knowledge is available freely.

Private Companies (and other Open Source projects) will make use of this data. Some will use it to augment other sources of information. Others will look at the change logs and have internal teams audit the information before applying it to their local map databases. Still others will use it wholesale and unquestioningly. Separate from Open Street Maps, most mapping software has the ability for users to submit new information and corrections directly to the company so that it can be reviewed and potentially included.

In the case of the above, the "Lake McDonald's" landmark tag would almost certainly not have been the work of Google or Google Maps directly, but rather a solitary individual updating the database for their own amusement in a manner which was not rejected by any moderation process at the time of the screenshot. Certainly puddles would not exist in any official governmental dataset.

Most people in the early twenty-first century are completely unaware of Open Street Maps or these sorts of public, crowd sourced data. Of those that are aware, a majority likely do not contribute, in the same way that Wikipedia has far more users than editors.

The parking lot near my house has been flooded so long that Google Maps now considers it a natural landmark.

[victusinveritas]

From Rebecca Solnit:

We the people.

We won the battle of showing up, the battle of caring, the battle of what the values of this country should be. Millions showed up--a million in Boston alone, people in many European cities (and one Irish Trump golf course), people in small towns and big cities, red states and blue (except they're all shades of purple), huge turnouts in many places. I was in transit home from book tour in Europe (and I could've only attended one if I had been here), but the sense I get from all the posts and reports is of good-humored, positive, energized massive crowds of people who found that the basics they had in common--the underlying meanings in No Kings--were plenty to come together, and so they did.

The Crowd Counting Consortium is very carefully methodical so we don't have their numbers and won't for a while but if it was a million in Boston and huge in NY, L.A., and Chicago, and so many smaller communities showed up strongly, it was BIG. It's a reminder that the administration can militarize and attack as they have in Los Angeles but they cannot control the entire population, and a significant percent of that population basically just said they don't plan to be subjugated, intimidated, or suppressed. The right of the people peaceably to assemble was beautifully exercised across the land.

The Parade to Please the President didn't please him that much, being poorly organized and poorly attended and full of, some say, intentionally lackluster performances, soldiers marching or rather stumbling and shuffling like prisoners, and at one point they played an instrumental of Creedence Clearwater's Fortunate Son:

Some folks are born made to wave the flag

Ooh, they're red, white and blue

And when the band plays "Hail to the Chief"

Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no senator's son, son

It ain't me, it ain't me

I ain't no fortunate one, no

G Elliott Morris

‪@gelliottmorris.com‬

Based on crowd-sourced records of No Kings Day event turnout, and extrapolating for the cities where we don't have data yet, it looks like roughly 4-6 million people protested Trump across the U.S. yesterday. That's nearly 2% of the U.S. pop!

Mobilized anti-Trump resistance is exceeding 2017 levels

https://bsky.app/profile/gelliottmorris.com/post/3lrnddl7bro2n

‪theodora30.bsky.social‬

‪@theodora30.bsky.social‬

· 4m

Just tuned in to CNN talking about the “thousands” — not tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands, never mind millions — who turned out yesterday to protest Trump. I had already seen the pictures of protests around the country so I knew they were way off. This is how the media weakens democracy.

And yes, jetlag means I'm posting VERY early."

---

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The AOC-Sanders anti-oligarch tour is all about organizing

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on Apr 2, and in BLOOMINGTON on Apr 4. More tour dates here.

It's hard to imagine today, but Barack Obama ran as a populist outsider, buoyed into office by a grassroots organizing campaign that used an incredibly innovative online organizing tool called MyBarackObama.com, which directly connected rank-and-file supporters so they could self-organize, creating an unstoppable force.

But as far as Obama was concerned, MyBarackObama.com was a campaigning tool, not a governing tool. The last thing Obama wanted was a clamorous electorate jostling his elbow while he made the grand bargains that defined his presidency: secret drone killings, immunity for telcos that profited from in illegal NSA spying, impunity for CIA torturers, bailing out bankers, complicity in the foreclosure epidemic, and, of course, unlimited free money for health insurance companies through the ACA.

Obama ran like a populist, but governed like Chuck Schumer. Meanwhile, the GOP of his day was dominated by its own "grassroots" groups, the Tea Party movement that was funded and organized by the Kochs but who quickly slipped the leash and became an ungovernable force that conquered the party. It turns out that the kind of people who get really involved in party activism are, well, passionate (a less charitable term might be cranks – and I say this as a certified, grade-A crank). They really believe in the principles that bring them into party activism, and the only people they hate more than the other party are their own sellout leaders (oh, hi, Senator Fetterman!).

For a leader whose theory of governance involves a lot of back-room favor-trading and Extremely Grown Up compromising, an activated, organized base represents a powerful obstacle. Obama's seeming genius was his ability to awaken a grassroots campaigning force that he could then hit pause on once he attained office, then re-activate on demand (Obama "revived" MyBarackObama.com for his second presidential campaign):

https://www.computerworld.com/article/1532634/barack-obama-s-big-data-won-the-us-election-2.html

But ultimately, I think we have to conclude that Obama's strategy was a losing one. By putting his own organization into an induced coma between elections, Obama lost an important source of discipline and feedback that would have told him when his compromises overstepped the tolerance of the electorate – and the fact that Obama didn't have an organized base meant that his Democratic Party rivals and his Republican opponents could force him into bad compromises, as with the ACA.

Contrast Obama with another "populist outsider" in the Democratic Party: Bernie Sanders. Sanders has never been afraid of his own base or their passion. Members of his staff disproportionately come from community and union organizing backgrounds. Think of the difference between Sanders' "Not me, US" and "Our revolution" slogans and Obama's dotcom URL, "MyBarackObama.com." Sanders' presidential campaigns were always organizing campaigns, and he's kept those going in non-election years.

Since Trump/Musk's shock therapy assault on American democracy, Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez have been made headlines with a series of gigantic rallies across the country. The two Democratic Socialists have turned out vast crowds in Republican strongholds: 11,000 in Greely, CO; 15,000 in Tempe, AZ – and even bigger crowds in traditional Democratic turf: 34,000 in Denver.

Writing for The American Prospect, Micah Sifry describes the larger strategy behind these rallies. According to Faiz Shakur, the Sanders staffer who's organizing the events, the point of these events is to build a massive, grassroots organization that gets shit done:

https://prospect.org/politics/2025-03-26-bernies-fighting-oligarchy-tour-organizing/

The campaign is hiring full-time organizers in "Iowa, Nebraska, Wisconsin, and several Western states," and they're already actively fighting in state-level battles, like a Colorado bill to make it easier to form a union:

https://www.cpr.org/2025/02/03/colorado-labor-peace-action-union-history/

These people-powered movements are mobilizing directly against Musk's dark money operation, like the Wisconsin Supreme Court election where Musk is paying people $100 each to vote against Susan Crawford, a progressive candidate:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-03-21-wisconsin-court-election-drawing-elon-musks-money/

The campaign is using online RSVPs to build out mailing lists. One interesting fact from Sifry's article: 65% of the signups are from people who are new to Sanders' mailing lists. 107,000 people have RSVPed so far. You can sign up here:

https://berniesanders.com/oligarchy/

Rationalization is easy to slip into and impossible to avoid. Politicians who make themselves beholden to organized supporters who really care about the issues are armoring themselves against the enormous pressure on elected representatives to make compromises. Both Sanders and Ocasio-Cortez have made compromises in their careers that I disagree with. I don't support them because I think they're perfect or immune to self-serving justifications. I support them because they are deliberately putting themselves in a position where it's much harder for them to make excuses and get away with it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/26/not-me-us/#the-people-no

Image: Matt A.J. (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sanders_rally_Council_Bluffs_IMG_4014_(49036624512).jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[smallmariofindings]

The aim of the Crowd Cover duel minigame in Mario Party 3 is to recognize which picture out of three sets of three pictures is being covered up by moving characters, and announce the correct choice before the opponent.

Above are all the graphics that can appear during the minigame, extracted from the game's data.

Main Blog | Patreon | Twitter | Bluesky | Small Findings | Source

[moonshynecybin]

I’ve only been into/started following MotoGP for a few months. Can I ask how exactly did Marc getting the Ducati seat go down? I’ve seen references of it being jorge messing up/rejecting the seat and that somehow leading to Marc masterminding his way to it but don’t fully get it. Thank you :))))

lmao it was awesome. under the cut shes crazy shes long shes the war of the roses shes game of thrones shes ducati being fucking STUPID !!!!!

okay so the beginning of this season going towards the middle was like. genuinely dominated by discussion of who would end up with the second factory ducati seat, and there were 3 main candidates for the position: 1. enea bastianini, who had the seat but who had had a spotty 2023 marred by injury and was delivering inconsistent results in the early part of 2024, 2. jorge martin, who had been basically promised the seat ahead of them uno reversing and signing enea, and who had contended for the title the year before/was leading the world championship early in 2024, and 3. marc marquez, 8 time world champion and arguable GOAT of the sport, who was doing insane comeback rides on a year old bike that he had very little time to adapt to. on pure results, you would have to go with martin (it was p clear it wasnt going to be my girl enea....), but marc looked uh. very promising and very dangerous (apparently his data, ESPECIALLY in the left handers, was like. bonkers), and who was also undeniably a better business asset to ducati as a company trying to sell motorbikes. and as we all knowwwwww, ducati had BY FARRRR the most dominant bike on the grid, so they are staring down the barrel of like. deciding between three excellent riders for one, extremely coveted seat. they think they hold all the cards here, and after a bit of rampant speculation the ducati bosses say everybody calm the fuck down we will make a decision about the gp25 seat at MUGELLO. forza. and with that the stage is set.

but again. ducati had basically promised jorge martin that seat. in fact, there was a provision in his contract that said if he won the world title in 2023, he would automatically be promoted to the factory team. like if marc doesnt come in on his merry way essentially doing a year long AUDITION for that seat up-to and including crowd-commanding theatrics, then it is undeniably martin's bike to have. and it looks like ducati kinda thought they should honor that too! because it was reported (unofficially but through a multitude of reliable sources) on the thursday before mugello that jorge martin WOULD be signing with the factory ducati team to be in red for 2025 IMMINENTLY. and he shows up to the presscon with the moon shinging out of his ass and we didnt rlly have a reason to doubt him so things are looking pretty locked up tbh

so another piece of the puzzle. for the last few years one cog in the wheel of ducati's dominance has been them having EIGHT bikes on the grid, and as such having insane amounts of data to comb through and synthesize while developing the bike. at the time, the team with the most factory support is pramac racing. but YAMAHA have made a promise to a young shirtless man named fabio quartararo that they will get a satellite team for 2024 to help with THEIR efforts, and pramac's contract with ducati is expiring so theyre the top choice. yamaha offers them a fuck you amount of cash and full factory support to leave ducati and come run the M1s with them. and the thing is, it is EXPENSIVE to run an independent team and this sugar daddy style deal would essentially lock down their immediate future quite nicely, so they are thinking HARD about this— because if they lose jorge martin like. what the fuck are they doing not taking that deal. and YOU are asking me girl what the fuck does this had to do with marc marquez WELLLLL. ducati know that marc wants a gp25. and pramac has the factory spec bikes. and marc's famous ass is a VERY valuable little bargaining chip in their eyes. so ducati APPARENTLY wanted marc on the same deal jorge martin was on (complete with the promise of factory promotion if he won the championship) at PRAMAC in order to keep marc, jorge martin, and pramac all under the umbrella of ducati racing. they think problem solved :) we get to keep everything and everyone :) marc gets a current spec bike, jorge gets to be on the factory team, and we can still run eight bikes :) awesome.

WELL! marc catches wind of all of this and goes. fuck you i want to be a factory rider on a gp25. like why on earth would he move from busted satellite team to busted satellite team that doesnt even have his BROTHER ? so instead of keeping all of these negotiations behind closed doors he trots right the fuck up to the press at mugello and says hello yes i have ABSOLUTELY no intention of riding for pramac, in fact i only have the intention of riding with factory teams. big smile. fuck you. press run wild. domino tipped. pramac pissed off. ducati SWEATING.

AND i guess the ducati CEO (claudioooooo) was there. and some big sponsorship guys (audiiiiiii) were there. and it has been LONG been reported that gigi daligna really wanted marc for that seat (and that pecco REALLY didnt lmao). like bad. some would say carnally. and then i guess they looked at his data. and thought about how well he had already adapted to the gp23. and how badly he was beating bez and company. and i suppose the idea of actually losing marc and him going to a KTM or an aprilia scared the actual genuine NIPS off of these guys and literally by sunday night they had apparently called jorge martin to let him know that it wasnt going to be him and he went over to aleix and got that aprilia contract signed genuinely immediately (and enea later signed with ktm and pramac with yamaha). so the aprilia news was announced on monday and we knew marc was the choice from that, and then they announced it officially in the dumbest smuggest little video of all time a lil while after. but not before marc took a selfie in a shirt that said FACTORY PILOT that he later lied about and said wasnt on purpose. king. done and dusted. insanity.

so to recap: in the course of four days, marc essentially pulled a coup out of thin air by just. deciding to exercise some muscle with the press, which caused ducati to lose two bikes, secured the best seat on the grid for himself, and made sure that two of the riders that finished top four in this year's championship (including the CHAMPION) are on much worse machines going into next year. like he literally created the best possible outcome for himself by virtue of his reputation, media savvy, and sheer force of will. it was absolute crazy shit and SO much fun to watch play out live

[deliciousangelfestival]

Did I Make You Proud?

Character: Spy!Bucky x Rogue!Spy Female Reader

Summary: Imagine being a rogue agent, relentlessly pursued by your irresistibly attractive former mentor, Bucky, who is determined to track you down.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky P.O.V

Bucky's gaze flicked up to the intercom as the voice crackled through, laden with stress. "Did you see her?"

He sighed, the weight of the crowded train station bearing down on him. "Too many people here," he muttered, his frustration evident in the terse response.

"I never thought she would betray us. We have to find her before they do," came the voice from the intercom, laden with frustration.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration mirroring the tone on the intercom.

It was understandable why tensions ran high in the spy agency; one of their own had gone rogue, becoming a fugitive and leaving chaos in their wake.

And to make matters worse, the rogue agent is you.

The senior agent, Bucky received a direct order to apprehend the rogue agent. He was the one who had trained and guided you.

The situation's urgency hit him like a wave as he grasped the gravity of the rogue agent's actions. You had obtained sensitive data from a secret base and were planning to sell it to another country, triggering a potential international crisis.

"BANG."

The explosion erupted from the toilet, sending shockwaves through the crowded area.

"KYAA!!!" Panic spread like wildfire as people scrambled everywhere except for Bucky.

He remained calm amidst the chaos, a knowing look in his eyes as he recognized the familiar tactic. He had taught you well – create a distraction but ensure no civilians get hurt. It was a motto they lived by.

As his colleagues and the soldiers mobilized to locate the source of the explosion, Bucky's focus was unwavering. His gaze swept over the frantic crowd until, finally, he spotted you.

There you were, a smirk playing on your lips as you sat inside the cafe directly across from him.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Bucky – relief at finally finding you, the rogue agent, mingled with disappointment and a touch of regret.

Despite the agencies hot on your trail, you exuded an air of confidence, leisurely sipping your coffee as if you hadn't a care in the world. Bucky's jaw clenched with determination as he observed you from afar, his fist tightening as he made his way towards your location.

As he anticipated, you had vanished from the cafe, but your signature perfume lingered in the air, serving as a tantalizing clue. Trusting his instincts, Bucky followed the scent until he spotted you boarding a train.

With a quickened pace, he hurried to catch up, his steps purposeful as he entered the same carriage as you. The doors closed behind them, sealing their fate within the confines of the train.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" the intercom crackled with concern.

Bucky's hand moved swiftly to remove the device from his ear, slipping it into his pocket as he met your gaze with steely resolve. "I found her," he declared, his voice firm as he prepared to confront the rogue agent face to face.

Bucky quickened his pace, determination driving his strides as he reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to the quiet area of the train.

"Stop what you're doing. Do you want to get caught and be a prisoner in another country?" he pleaded, his voice laced with urgency and concern.

You shrugged nonchalantly, seeming unfazed by the consequences. "As long as I get paid," you replied, a hint of indifference in your tone.

Bucky's grip tightened as he looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of recognition. "This isn't you," he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.

Pushing away his hand, you retorted, "What happened to 'no strings attached'?"

Bucky grumbled in frustration, feeling the weight of his own words haunting him. Perhaps you were right; he shouldn't have let himself worry about you.

But memories flooded his mind – the nights spent together, sharing warmth on cold evenings, and when you pretended to be husband and wife. Those days held a special place in his heart, now overshadowed by your betrayal.

"You... you were different," he muttered, struggling to reconcile the person he once knew with the rogue agent before him.

With a smirk, you met his gaze defiantly. "Because of you and the agency pushing my limits, I've learned my true value," you declared, your confidence unwavering.

"I'm a good spy."

Bucky couldn't deny the truth in your words. Despite the circumstances, there was no denying your skill as a spy. You had learned from the best – him.

As tension crackled between them, a mixture of frustration, longing, and unresolved emotions hung in the air, a testament to the complex relationship they once shared.

Bucky's voice was stern as he demanded, "Where's the data?"

You met his gaze with defiance, a smirk playing on your lips. "Too late. Before you guys found me at the train station, I already handed it over to the buyer."

The weight of your words hung heavily in the air as Bucky processed the gravity of the situation. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

You shrugged casually, a flicker of intensity in your eyes. "Can't you see the big picture? If there's only peace, people like us won't exist. I'm just here to keep it alive," you retorted, your confidence palpable, starkly contrasting to the timid and quiet persona he once knew.

Bucky fell silent, taken aback by the transformation before him. You had evolved into someone both confident and alluring, your newfound demeanor leaving him both impressed and unsettled.

You sensed his internal struggle and couldn't resist teasing him further. "Did I make you proud?" you inquired, tilting your head provocatively and adding a coy "Sir?" to the end of your question.

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you continued, "Or perhaps you'd rather catch me and handcuff me to your bed?"

Bucky's patience wore thin as he reached out, his fingers pinching your chin to meet his gaze. Leaning in closer, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss filled with unspoken tension.

The kiss spoke volumes, a collision of conflicting emotions – desire, frustration, and longing – all wrapped up in a single moment of intimacy.

As Bucky pulled away, his voice was low and authoritative. "Don't test my patience," he warned, his eyes burning with a mixture of warning and undeniable desire.

You let out a low, almost amused hum. "Hmm... I know."

The train whisked them away, racing across the bridge with breathtaking scenery flashing by. In a different circumstance, perhaps they could have appreciated the view together. But now, they were locked in a tense standoff.

"We should meet again," you remarked, breaking the silence.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You offered no explanation, but a sense of unease prickled at Bucky's senses. He tensed, feeling a presence behind him, and his suspicions were confirmed when he turned to find seven men poised for a fight.

"Really?" Bucky shot you a disbelieving look as you shrugged nonchalantly.

"I need something to stall the time. I'll see you again, Sir." You turned and bolted with that, leaving Bucky to face the onslaught alone. He braced himself, ready to take on the challenge.

The fight was fierce, a whirlwind of punches and kicks as Bucky engaged in a battle of wits and strength. Despite being outnumbered, his training and skill allowed him to emerge victorious.

As he dealt the final blow, the sound of a helicopter overhead drew his attention. Bucky sighed, realizing that this was your escape plan unfolding.

When the train finally came to a halt, Bucky found himself surrounded by his agency colleagues, their expressions a mix of disappointment and frustration.

"She got away?" one of them asked, voicing the collective sentiment.

Bucky could only nod grimly. "Yup."

"Shit."

The frustration simmered within Bucky as he slid his hand into his jacket pocket, feeling something unexpected. With a quick glance, he pulled out a small item, his cheeks flushing crimson as he recognized it. It was undoubtedly your doing, a teasing reminder of your audacity.

Despite his frustration, Bucky couldn't deny the thrill of the chase, the challenge you presented only fueling his determination to catch you.

With a silent vow, Bucky steeled himself for the subsequent encounter. He would find you; this time, you wouldn't slip through his fingers so easily.

🚁

As you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from the exhilarating climb from the moving train, thrill and nervousness danced in your veins. 

Clara, your partner in crime and the helicopter pilot shook her head in disbelief. "I knew you wanted to make a cool exit for your hot former mentor, but this has to stop," she chided a hint of exasperation in her tone.

"Climbing up from a moving train? You might as well have signed your own death warrant," Clara continued, her eyes wide with concern.

You flashed her a mischievous grin, trying to brush off the seriousness of the situation. "I just wanted to impress him," you admitted, your voice laced with a hint of sheepishness.

Clara sighed, knowing all too well how to handle your impulsive tendencies. "Maybe next time, just kidnap him and live on a private island. Then you two can live happily ever after," she suggested with a playful wink.

You chuckled at the absurdity of her suggestion but couldn't help but entertain the thought. "That's not a bad idea. I should save money to buy an island," you mused, already picturing the two of you lounging on a tropical beach, far away from the chaos of the spy world.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[druidwolf21]

Command deck

Lion El'johnson/f reader

Summery: Lion El'johnson's personal serf gets a little more personal.

Tags:Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @kit-williams @iluminatka16 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @bookandyarndragon @thisuserislilsilly @saintsylestine

A/N: as with all, not proof read. Short thought I needed out of my head

Tw: smut, brief derogatory language, brief mild threat.

This is NOT going to end well

The Command deck was crowded, astartes and astra militarum stood circling the flickering holo display hovering over the round center table as serfs and lower ranking soldiers hurried about shouting orders.

You glanced around, taking in the room as you clutched your holodisk in your hands. The dark angels sigil hung along the ships walls on massive gilded banners, fluttering faintly as Marines strode past.

The Command center was raised, an elevated platform accessed by a single walkway that looked down to the pilot deck. Peeking over the railed edge, The room below was fitted with desks and large displays, showing flashing lights and trajectories to unknown planets and pulsing stars.

"And how does this involve you, Oseric?"

You dragged your eyes back to the centre, wincing at the biting voice.

Lion El'johnson stood with his arms folded across his green tabard, emerald eyes flashing as he watched the projected display.

He was furious.

You could see it in the way the muscle in his jaw twitched, in how his pupils thinned as he watched the millitarum officer prattle on about defensive procedure and munition lines.

"My lord I really do believe-"

The room stilled as Lion El'johnson waved his hand, silencing the man.

"Captain Osric, whilst I believe you are a man of... Varying talents, I fail to see how you would draw the conclusion that I value your opinion on this matter"

The officer spluttered as his face turned red.

Lions voice was low, dangerously laced as he continued.

"My Dark Angels were called in to handle this after you failed to bring this rebellion under control. The Command of this battle is no longer yours"

You stood behind the primarch, hands clasped in front of you tugged at a viridian thread teasing itself loose from your dress as an uneasy tension settled over the meeting. Soldiers shuffled their feet, cowing under the Lions presence as his personal guard stepped forward.

"My lord El'johnson I really do think-"

"Now that's the problem. I don't think you do"

He waved a large hand again and an angel stepped forward, clasping an armour hand on the captains shoulder.

"If you had, in fact, stopped to think at any point, my sons and I would not be here wasting our time cleaning up this sorry mess"

You could see Lions jaw clenching behind the cropped hair of his beard as he leant forward, spreading both palms across the table.

"Woman"

You jumped, rushing forwards to stand by the table. His gaze flicked to you, raking along your body before returning to your face and then finally the hololithe.

"Tell our good captain Osric what you found"

With practiced ease you slid your fingers along the data slate, swapping out the projected image for rolls of scrolling data and pics.

"I took it upon myself to look into the dissention and subsequent hostility in section 42.8.c" you flicked again, zooming into an image of a man, stood up on a pile of rubble with his fist held in the air. Beneath his foot, a flag of the imperium aquilla lay torn and bloodied.

"This man is the source of rebellion movements in the sector. If he dies, the unrest will settle very quickly"

"And how long did this information take you to find?"

You shared a large map, indicating frequented spots, travel projections and known acquaintances.

"6 hours, my lord"

Lion peered at the captain, who looked visibly sweaty beneath the stern gaze and the weight of plasteel on his shoulder.

"6 hours"

He pushed off the table, standing upright as he scowled.

"My aide has done more for me in 6 hours than you have done in 6 days"

"But my lord, we didnt-"

"Get him out of my sight"

The dark angel shoved the captain, hassling him over the narrow access bridge and through the hermetic doors.

With a heavy sigh Lion took a seat, musing over the information still displayed above the table. The remaining soldiers stood uncomfortably, waiting for anything.

He remained silent.

You stepped up to the side of the primarch's chair, your hip brushing against the arm rest as you shifted the display to a number of astartes.

"My lord, the captain of the dreadwing has requested men from his unit be deployed. He advised a "Scorched earth approach would render to ash any doubts of the imperial truth"

Lion glanced at you as he traced his finger over his chin in thought before running his hand through his blonde locks.

"Clear the deck"

His voice boomed across the commander centre as men rushed to oblige, no doubt relieved to escape the scrutiny of the first son. His elite guard lingered, red eye lenses whirring as he looked between you and his genesire.

You stepped to the front of his chair and bowed, hugging your slate to your chest to keep from spilling out of the tight laced bodice of your dress.

"I will take my leave, my lord Lion"

"Not you, you stay"

You paused as he spoke, still bent at the waist you listened as his guard clashed a gauntlet against plate armour. The sound of heavy ceramite fading as the command doors sealed with a pressurized hiss.

Rising up slowly, a breath caught in your throat as the lion peered at you. His face unreadable, he frowned slightly before sighing.

"You have done fine work, considering the incompetency we have faced since arrival."

"Thank you, my lord. I only wish to be of service to you"

"hmm"

Your body felt warm under his gaze, a flush creeping up the exposed skin of your chest, up your neck and across your cheeks.

"Such a useful thing. And yet such dissension you have caused, to the hassle of my sons"

"My lord?"

Lion kicked a leg out, lounging backwards in his chair as below the platform, the muted sound of orders echoed faintly.

"My sons have had multiple men punished for calling you "the lions whore"" he tapped the arm of his chair, steely eyes never leaving you as he spoke.

"Obviously this is to save insult to myself, rather than you, but never the less I find myself wondering why this hasn't been nipped in the bud"

Your mouth worked for a moment as you struggled to find the right words, The feint pink blush now burning furiously.

"I assure you my lord, I have never encouraged this lie"

"And yet my sons hear it disseminated freely amongst serfs"

Sighing you rubbed your temples, catching yourself as the lion cocked an eyebrow at the movement.

"My lord, jealousy is unfortunately something I cannot control. I was hand picked to help you and If that's how they want to see it then let them, I'm not ashamed"

Your outburst left you stunned for a moment before you began stammering, dropping your data drive to the tabletop as you waved your hands.

"oh, but that's not to say... I mean I would never assume you would... Not that you couldn't, I would be more than happy to.. but I mean-"

A low deep noise halted you as Lion began to laugh. A deep rumbling chuckle in his throat that lasted only a moment before he fell silent.

"So you pride yourself on being the Lions whore do you?"

"my lord, you know that is not what i-"

A gasp wretched itself from you as he grabbed your forearm and dragged you forward until you leaned over his chair, you face dangerously close to his.

Palms rested against his broad chest, your fingers clenching at the soft fabric of his tunic as he held you.

"What bothers you more, little aide? What they call you? Or the fact that it isn't true?"

His palm found the back of your head, pulling you to meet his lips in a heated kiss. The brush of his beard burned your skin as his mouth moved against yours. his tongue delving into your mouth as you gasped, feeling his hand slide along your waist.

Breathless you broke the kiss, staring stunned at the primarch as he smirked.

"my lord, I really don't think this is-"

He pulled you in for another kiss. hungrier, he moved his lips along your neck as he pulled you fully against him to straddle his lap.

"You said you wanted to be of service" he muttered against your throat, palming the fat of your rear through the iridescent skirt of your dress. "Why not make the name official"

You bit back a groan as he ran his tongue along the pulse point of your neck.

"Someone will see us"

He slid his hand under your dress, trailing his fingers along your thigh before pressing his thumb against your clit.

"It is more likely they will hear you"

He pressed again. A fanged grin spreading across his face as you jerked, moaning softly as he traced circles around the nerves.

The noise of the ships helm faded as you panted in the primarch's lap, feeling his fingers bruising your thigh and his thumb rubbing against your nub.

"This- this isn't appropriate"

"Do you want me to stop?"

You bit back a whine as he stilled, thumb pressed unmoving to your core. Your hips bucked and you ground yourself against him, throwing your arms around his neck as you pushed your hips down into his lap.

"No"

You felt his chest reverb, his teeth finding your throat as he resumed flicking his finger across your clit, a thick digit sliding between the slick and teasing your entrance as he pulled you towards your finish. You couldn't hold back a moan as he slid his finger inside, curling it against your walls his languid strokes finally brought you to finish.

Lion scoffed as he felt you cum. Pulling his finger out he pushed it into your mouth, pupils dilating as you ran your tongue along it with glassy eyes.

"Maybe they were right to call you whore" he mused, gripping your chin. "Was this what you wanted all along? Did you want your primarch to praise you like this for working so diligently?" He pressed his finger to your tongue, watching you gasp for a moment. "Well? Is it?"

'Yes, yes my lord" you garbled, fighting to get the words out past the pad of his finger.

"Good girl"

You cunt clenched at his praise, heat pooling in your gut as he reached between you, unbuckling his trousers to free himself. Your eyes bulged as you eyed his length watching it slap against his stomach as he rugged it free from his trousers, dusty pink tip already leaking as he palmed it slowly.

A quick glance up at him and you reached down, taking him cock between both hands as you slowly pumped the shaft, allowing your thumb to tease his tip, just as he'd teased you. You grinned as you felt him stiffen, his abs tight under his shirt as you slid your hands along him.

Calloused hands clutched the back of your neck as he kissed you, all tongue and teeth like he was trying to devour you with each breathless moment. You continued to work him between your fingers, swallowing his grunts as he twitched.

Pulling away with spit coating your lip, you lifted the soft satin on your dress, bunching it at your hips as you slid your underwear aside and lined him up to your entrance. Lions throaty moan drowning yours as inch by inch you slid down around him, gutteral curses in a language you didn't recognize falling from his lips as he clawed at your hips.

Pain and pleasure blurred and your eyes watered as he stretched you deliciously full. Through tears, you could see Lion staring at the point your body's met, thumb rubbing across your stomach as he watched you take him.

"Look at that" he hummed "You really are made to serve"

Panting like a bitch in heat, you slowly rose yourself up before dropping back down, rolling your hips as you rode him to push his leaking glans against the spot that made you scream. Lions hands helping you bounce as his own hips thrust up to meet you.

Your orgasm came crashing down around you again as he rutted upwards, dragging his thick length across your walls. His palm shot up to smother the wailing sob that escaped your swollen lips as he fucked you through it, relentless as he felt you clench around his cock.

it doesn't matter, you thought they've already heard enough to know the rumours are true.

The lions whore has quite a nice ring to it, you suppose.

You sighed into his hand, tears trickling through his fingers as he thrust, over and over. Low snarls wracking his broad chest beneath your clenched knuckles as he twitched inside you.

'Mmmhmm" you muffled against his palm

He pulled it away for a second scowling like you had interrupted him.

"Inside, I want it inside" you crooned. "Fill me up, Lord Lion.

Lions eyes shot wide and he smothered a snarl, embedding his canines into your shoulder as with a final erratic pump he came, flooding your cunt with hot ropes of cum that leaked around his pulsing shaft and dripped down your thighs. After a moment, you felt his great mass shift beneath you, sliding out of your heat as he tucked himself back into his trousers with a tired groan.

"I guess I am the Lions whore now" you smiled, pulling your dress over your legs and allowing yourself to fall against his chest as you craned you neck to look at him. The coarse hair on his cheeks and chin rubbed your skin and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

Lion opened his mouth to speak, only for the hiss of the airtight door lock to interrupt him.

A astartes, clad in Veridian green and wings atop his helm strode through the door. His visor twisted to look down at you in his gene sires lap and you heard him inhale before turned back to his father.

"Lord El'johnson, the millitarum captain has requested a continuation of the earlier discussion regarding astartes take over."

Lion dragged a palm down his face and patted your hip, gesturing for you to stand. With an aching sigh you slid off his lap and onto your feet, feeling your pants snap back into place as you smoothed the ruffled fabric around your legs. You grimaced slightly, feeling his spend pooling in the gussett.

The Dark angel clashed his fist to his chest and returned to the door, propping it open as the soldier entered sheepishly.

"My lord, forgive the intrusion but I really do think-"

Captain Oseric eyes popped as he scrambled through the door,l to be met with the sight of you breathless and flushed stood next to the lion.

"I think I will take my leave, My lord. Please summon me at your discretion should you require my services"

You dipped into a curtsy, dipping low as you stepped around the trembling captain, flashing a smile at him as you passed.

"Whore" he whispered through gritted teeth.

Before you could respond, the space marine has hoisted the man by the scruff of his neck, dangling him in the air as his other hand twitched towards his bolter.

"The Lady El'Johnson will not be spoken to as such" the astartes hissed, mechanical and wheezing through his breather. "I will kill you where you stand"

Shocked, you glanced between the angel and the primarch. Predatory gaze never leaving you as his son threatened to throttle the captain.

"I will attend you later, you may leave"

Bowing your head, you smiled as Lion El'johnson waved you off, flicking his concentration to Osric, trembling and spluttering as he hung 5 feet off the ground.

"once again I find you wasting my time today Captain. I'm beginning to think we may have a problem."

Sliding out of the door, El'johnsons voice faded as the vacuum sealed the command deck.

Lady El'Johnson definitely sounds better than the lions whore

[justforbooks]

Pentagon’s Pizza Index has accurately predicted 21 global crises since 1983

As tensions rise in the Middle East, a curious, crowd-driven theory known as the “Pentagon Pizza Index” has caught fire online.

On June 12 and 13, users on X (formerly Twitter) reported a sudden spike in pizza deliveries near the Pentagon and Department of Defense in Washington, D.C., sparking speculation that the United States may be quietly entering crisis mode behind closed doors.

The timing? Just hours before Israel reportedly struck targets in Iran in response to Tehran’s earlier drone and missile attacks. And once again, pizza orders were booming.

Cold war roots of the pizza theory. What began as a Soviet spy trick is now a digital-age meme

The idea isn’t new. During the Cold War, Soviet operatives observed pizza delivery activity in Washington, believing it signalled crisis preparation inside U.S. intelligence circles. They coined it “Pizzint” — short for pizza intelligence.

This tactic entered public lore on 1 August 1990, when Frank Meeks, a Domino’s franchisee in Washington, noticed a sudden surge in deliveries to CIA buildings. The next day, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Meeks later told the Los Angeles Times he saw a similar pattern in December 1998 during the impeachment hearings of President Bill Clinton.

As former CNN Pentagon correspondent Wolf Blitzer once joked in 1990, “Bottom line for journalists: Always monitor the pizzas.”

WWIII warning: What is the Pentagon Pizza Index today? A meme, an OSINT tool, or a symptom of digital-age paranoia?

The modern Pentagon Pizza Index is tracked through open-source intelligence (OSINT) tools. These include Google Maps, which shows real-time restaurant activity, and social media observations. Pages like @PenPizzaReport on X have dedicated themselves to watching for abnormal patterns.

On 1 June 2025, the account posted, “With less than an hour to go before closing time, the Domino’s closest to the Pentagon is experiencing unusually high footfall.”

A few hours later, reports emerged of a fresh escalation between Israel and Iran. For believers in the theory, it was yet another sign that something bigger was underway.

The April 2024 pizza spike. A recent example that reignited interest

The most notable recent instance occurred on 13 April 2024, the night Iran launched a massive drone and missile strike against Israel. That same evening, screenshots from delivery platforms showed pizzerias around the Pentagon, White House, and Department of Defense tagged as “busier than usual.”

Multiple Papa John’s and Domino’s branches reported increased orders. The correlation prompted viral memes and renewed interest in the theory.

According to Euro News, a user on X posted on 13 June 2025, “The Pentagon Pizza Index is hiking.”

Inside the logic: Why pizza? Food, fatigue and national security

The concept is deceptively simple. When military staff face a national emergency, they work longer shifts and can’t leave their posts. They need quick, filling food — and pizza fits the bill.

Studies in behavioural psychology show that under stress, people prefer calorie-dense, familiar comfort foods. During high-alert operations, officials may work 16–20 hour days. That creates a visible consumption spike that outsiders can track.

And because platforms like Google and Uber Eats share real-time data on restaurant activity, amateur analysts can monitor these patterns — no hacking required.

World War III: Pizza as a proxy for preparedness. It’s not perfect, but it’s consistent

The Pentagon Pizza Index isn’t a foolproof system. It could easily be triggered by something mundane: a long staff meeting, a software glitch, or a nearby college football game.

That’s why modern OSINT analysts often cross-reference pizza spikes with other indicators — like unusual aircraft movements, ride-hailing activity, or power usage near government buildings. When multiple signs align, it suggests more than coincidence.

As a senior analyst put it: “You can’t bank a war call on a pizza. But if the Pentagon’s burning the midnight oil and feeding everyone, it’s worth a second look.”

Official silence, public curiosity. What the US government says — and doesn’t say

Despite the chatter online, the US government has made no mention of pizza deliveries as indicators of crisis.

Responding to speculation about American involvement in Israel’s airstrikes on Iran, Republican Senator Marco Rubio said:

“We are not involved in strikes against Iran, and our top priority is protecting American forces in the region. Israel advised us that they believe this action was necessary for its self-defence.”

Still, the Pentagon’s silence on the pizza theory hasn’t stopped internet users from speculating.

Humour meets anxiety in the age of digital vigilance

In an age where open-source tools let ordinary people track the movement of jets, ships, and even pizzas, the Pentagon Pizza Index sits at the bizarre intersection of humour and fear. It turns snack food into a warning system.

It’s also a reminder: not all intelligence requires a badge. Sometimes, the clue might be just down the road — in a Domino’s queue.

Whether you see it as absurd or insightful, one thing is clear: when the pizzas fly, people pay attention.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[grey-spark]

Making Predictions About Suo

Suo is one of the most mysterious and complex characters, and I want to make some predictions about him. I’m aware that most of you already know what I’m about to cover but I need to spell out the evidence here to make my arguments. So let's get right into it:

Warning: minor manga spoilers ahead

GOING OVER THE EVIDENCE

1. Nobody knows about Suo’s past.

Not even Umemiya, who is basically the ears of Bofurin.

That's a big deal. Not only is he a mystery to us, but he's a mystery to everyone in the story. Nirei has no real data on him. Hiragi says he heard his name a lot but went to a different school. Which also begs the question, why did he come to Makochi?

2. Suo talks about his master and his style fondly.

After he has a fight with man-bun guy, Nirei asks him about his fighting style and Suo says this:

Notice the way he talks about his master. It seems rather fond. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't seize. He seems uncomfortable talking about himself, but he's still willing to share. If Suo has any angst it doesn't seem to be related to his master and style. So what is Suo's source of angst and who is this master of his?

3. Suo has a “diet” where he never eats with anyone.

In a show were eating with other people is a big deal, he repeatedly refuses to eat food with other people. There is zero chance this is a quirk or an actual diet. He doesn't even eat during a leadership summit, where it's sort of disrespectful to refuse.

4. Suo is almost certainly hiding arm tattoos.

We NEVER see Suo in short sleeves. Even in the merch and advertisements. He never shows his bare arms.

And in the beach episode, he seems to avoid taking off his clothes to swim, and doesn't even want to risk getting wet. Probably out of fear of water making his rash guard see through. (Also why does he wear a long sleeve rash guard if he has no intention of swimming.)

5. He’s going to fight Sakura at some point.

This is not a fact per-se, but it's been hinted. Sakura is already thinking about ways to get Suo to fight him seriously.

Suo and Sakura have this strange rivalry were Suo has already conceded defeat. There's this strange tension between them. They're basically opposites. A man with nothing to hide verse a man with everything to hide. And the only way its going to be resolved is by "talking" through fighting.

Recap

Nobody knows about Suo’s past.

Suo talks about his master and his style fondly. 

Suo has a “diet” where he never eats with anyone.

Suo is almost certainly hiding a tattoo. 

It’s been hinted that he’s going to fight Sakura seriously. 

Using these established facts we can start to make some deductions and predictions about his story arc.

DEDUCTIONS/PREDICTIONS

Questions: 4a- Why would Suo hide/be ashamed of a tattoo?  3a- Why isn’t he eating?

Answer: He’s ashamed. He doesn’t eat for the same reason child Umemiya wouldn’t eat. He hates himself and the tattoo he's hiding has something to do with it. He’s so guilty he can’t even eat. So chances are Suo was a scumbag in the past. The only people in the scope of this story who do super evil things are evil gangs, which is likely where the tattoo comes from.

Questions: 4b- How can Suo be friendly/good if he was in an evil gang? 2b- How can Suo have a nice master if he was in an evil gang? 1b- Why does Suo even go to Furin in the first place if he’s not from around there?

Answer: His eye. Suo lost his eye somehow and that turned him into an angry resentful person who fell into the wrong crowd. We see this in the KEEL arc where he temporarily regressed back into his revenge obsessed "eye-for-an-eye" mindset.

But eventually Suo must have had a crisis of conscience, and Suo was likely redeemed by his sensei somehow. His sensei was a positive infulence in his life and may even be the reason he turned into a sinophile. His sensei made Suo into the friendly person he is today. In fact, he may have been the one to suggest going to Bofurin as a way to make friends and “further his training.”

Question: 5c- How are Sukura and Suo going to fight if they are close friends?

Answer: Suo is going to be blackmailed into leaving Bofurin. Sakura is going to fight him to stay but ultimately lose.

Or more generally, Suo is going to do something Sakura completely disagrees with. And it will almost certainly be about his old gang. I don’t see Suo becoming a real villain, so he’s most likely going to be blackmailed. Suo will see this as a rational self sacrifice (which is on theme with the KEEL and Gravel story arcs). Sakura will challenge Suo to a fight on the condition that if he wins Suo will stay, but Sakura will lose. Sugishita will replace him as the third party member and this will force Sugi to grow, which is the first new plot element introduced after the Noroshi war.

WHAT TO EXPECT

Given these deductions we can guess a SUPER VAGUE order of events. These are all vague predictions. Some of it could be false, but I’m 80% sure that 80% of this will be true:

>Suo will leave suddenly after his old gang blackmails him to return. >Sakura will fight to stop him but lose. >Class 1-1 will form a task force to find Suo. (This could take many chapters resulting in Sugishita taking his place.) >Class 1-1 will eventually find Suo at the evil gang base. >Sakura and Suo will have a rematch where he comes home. > The gang will declare war on Bofurin/Makochi unless they surrender Suo. (This could even lead to another Extinction war.)

But theses are just my guesses. Ultimately, I have no idea where Nii-sensei is going to take the story. But the evidence seems to point in this self-deprecating direction...

[rediimere]

The leaked “AI Aloy” footage from Sony has left such a bitter taste in my mouth that, hours later, I’m still fuming and have even more words to say about the overall sinister nature of its implications.

Let's talk about it.

I want to start by saying that there is a difference between what is colloquially called "AI" as a tool for artists and developers in which their software uses their own sources to streamline the process (for example, the "Content Aware" fill tool that has been present in Photoshop for at least a decade), and "generative AI/genAI" that relies on unauthorised theft of resources to artificially splice data together based on prompts. I have no qualms with the former as it relies on being fed its own sources and is an aid for specific purposes. It is not artificial intelligence, but a tool. GenAI, on the other hand, is immoral, unethical, planet-destroying garbage.

The latter is what is being pushed in that egregious video footage. It is the epitome of tone-deaf, soulless, capitalistic wet dream, dangerously misogynistic slop and I am not exaggerating. And I think it's also the culmination of years of fandom culture being integrated by people who have never interacted in fandom, never bothered to learn the etiquette of a space that existed long before they joined, demanded changes for their comfort, and see it as another commodity.

I'm not the first to say this and others before me have been far smarter about it, but there has been a marked change in fandom culture the past few years. Many have said it goes back to COVID, when people generally not involved in fandom spaces joined because they had nothing else to do.

The thing about fandom is that for pretty much as long as it's existed, it has been a safe space for marginalised voices. It's no coincidence that the transformative works of fandom—fiction, art, meta, etc.—have been places for queer voices, for women, for people of colour, for the trans and nonbinary community, etc. With more people joining, these safe spaces have become less so. There are demands for people to "stop shipping" characters that aren't a canon, established ship. There are personal and threatening attacks on people who have a different viewpoint on a character or plot. People have been stalked. People have been doxxed. This isn't necessary new, but is happening with increased frequency and ferocity, especially by younger members and the terfy crowd. The safe space fandom provided marginalised voices really seems to be shrinking.

Outside of fandom culture itself, there is a rising trend of needing instant gratification, of sacrificing unique protagonists for the sake of "relatability" and "self-inserts." There are readers who ignore descriptions of female protagonists and male love interests in romance books so that they can self-insert (and others are calling for authors to stop describing entirely). There are booktok-ers who, believe it or not, complain about the amount of words on a page. I'm not saying their opinions are wrong in general—there is a market for what they seek—but their reviews are to encourage these stipulations to become the norm. And these influencers get enough engagement that their views are seen as profitable by the corporations and execs in charge.

So it isn't really surprising that now fandom is being seen as something that corporation can milk for all its capitalistic worth. Why wouldn't corporations invade a space they've ignored for years as inconsequential now that it's mainstream? After all, fandom was just full of the "weirdos" before, and now it's full of "normies!" This is a space that has been established for decades, built from the ground up by people who value the source material(s), now full of anyone and everyone who will soak up one morsel of customized instant gratification for the dopamine hit.

And that's where genAI comes in.

Why is this so sinister in regards to Sony's recent leaked footage using AI Aloy interacting with a user?

First off: It's Aloy.

Look, if you've perused my social media or interacted with me online at all, you know I love Horizon. My computer room is full of fan-made merch. I've written almost a million words of fanfiction in three years. I've drawn fanart. I helped construct a fanmade dating sim. Horizon has been a huge part of my life for the past three years.

I'm not ignorant of its flaws. I'm also aware of the fact that Horizon is often hated as an IP, and Aloy is the target of a lot of rage from certain audiences. Not to generalise, but let's be clear: the complaints are largely about Horizon being "woke DEI garbage" (you know, for having a queer female protagonist, for featuring other women and queer characters in prominent roles, for having people of colour be important in the story, for being anti-capitalist and pro-environmentalism, etc.—the same tired, ignorant arguments we've all heard), and about Aloy being "fat" and "looking like a man" (hopefully they stretch before that reach so they don't pull something).

So why would Sony use Aloy to showcase an AI conversation instead of someone like Kratos or Joel, who come from more popular and acclaimed IPs?

One possibility is Sony trying to sink Horizon or Guerrilla Games as a company, spurring so much backlash from the leak that the franchise is doomed and dropped so Guerrilla either goes under or focuses on old IPs like Killzone.

Or the more disgusting possibility is that something like genAI is made for the people who loudly and proudly proclaim how "anti-woke" they are, who have detested Horizon and Aloy from the beginning, and now they have a way to "like" Aloy. They have a way to make her say or do or react to whatever kinds of depravity they want to throw at her. They have a way to control and manipulate a fictional woman to fulfill their own incel agenda.

On top of that—Horizon? The video game about how a defective AI made by a trillionaire wiped out humanity? The sequel that revealed another rogue AI made by thousand-year-old billionaires is set to wipe out Earth again? That Horizon franchise is what Sony is using to showcase AI slop? Let's not even go into how the character responses are literally so painfully out of character they can't be taken seriously at all. The irony is so heavy-handed it's almost crushing.

The other reprehensible part of this is the fact that video game actors are still on strike, and this strike is to protect themselves from being replaced by AI. This test footage did sound like a messed up Siri, but Ashly Burch (Aloy's actress) has been in support of the strike. The insult of using her character to showcase this slop is beyond words.

All I will say in conclusion is that I genuinely hope this is not endorsed, supported, or aided by Guerrilla Games. If this plays any part in Horizon 3 or any future part of the franchise, I speak for myself but can confidently say I am out.

In conclusion please do not support any genAI slop, especially in fandom spaces. Make them know it is not wanted, not needed, and is in fact detested and will lose them money in the end.

On that happy note I'm off to bed.

[kissingraine]

(might become a Starscream x reader, Shockwave x reader thang,,,,) eventual smut! 18+

Midnight City — TFP Soundwave x f!Reader

Draped in fog and soft neon, the Nemesis cruised slowly across the dark skies. Undetected and reeking of Decepticon malevolence as always yet undetected. The small lights that flickered below were as ignorant as ever, inferior lifeforms that were too busy eyeing their tiny glowing boxes to even look up. Soundwave knew without a doubt that they spent twenty four full hours of the week with their heads bent down. No mistaking it's become an issue among them.

Thin servos dancing over the keys as he watches the human settlement breathe, each streetlamp glistening faintly; a city that never sleeps. His sources tell him. Flickers of data, EM fields that pulse—not enough to disrupt the way his processor regulates but just enough to make the probes attached to his chassis writhe in distaste, primitive security networks buzzing with naive confidence. He's been relentlessly tracking down a signal that's made contact with the Earth's atmosphere a little over two nights ago.

It flashes every few irregular intervals, making it hard to pin down where the signal begins before fizzling out again. Like a dying star. Soundwave doesn't stop, can't stop. Not when this might be the only thing that can fix their current dilemma and he's been alone for so long. He's not sure how much time has passed. The ship's command left in his servos as their forces went on separate paths, vowed not to stray from the cause just had more creative 'ideas' on how to effectively mobilize their forces. He stayed on the Nemesis to keep things within control, to keep himself in control. Knows that his cassettes are also worrying about their situation but when they see him so composed, can feel that relief as it washes over him.

That signal, so similar to that relic's nature... but he can't be too sure just yet. Needs to keep probing, combing through the infantile network that the natives possessed.

Lazerbeak suggested to scout, but he turned it down. This organic settlement is a little too crowded for his liking. Can't risk them getting found. Not with their resources limited. He's been rationing their energon preserves too and he's this close to finding another hotspot of undisturbed fuel. Just enough to get them off of this miserable ball of dirt. The others can't be faring too well, can they? His objective was apparent, precise: locate the signal. Which he watched disappear into the city near the sewege systems.

Not exactly pleasant but he isn't Knockout enough to be picky about it. A red dot appears on his screen and his servos are quick to move, tendrils moving in to help. This is the first time Lazerbeak's seen him get remotely excited over something like a red spot on the multi-screens of his control panel. It's faint but emits a similar wavelength to the one Soundwave's filed away in his data banks.

It's in an area just near the organic's underground mode of transportation. Figures. It's more complicated to single out the signal's location especially if it was underground. Soundwave had discovered pretty recently that layers of concrete, reinforced metal buried beneath the earth didn't allow currents of data to run as easily.

And he'd rather not part with the ship to risk getting his processor overwhelmed with human thoughts and volatile emotions. So he does what he's best at. Infiltrate surface network and seeping into it like viscous liquid. It's fascinating how they make it so easy to extract information from them with their fragile digital infrastructure, trembling with aging code—an easy point of access. Doesn't even need to knock when the firewall practically crumbles at his technological prowess.

• Glancing at the clock, it's almost time for you to close the cafe. It had been a hectic day with Ma finally taking over the latter half of your shift so you could lay back and relax on bean bag chairs in the basement. Said basement was a small arcade area where a select few people in your block would come and relax, too. The space just big enough for a small crowd. It was mostly you and your friends who used it, though. One of their siblings, an electronically inclined person as you like to call them, had their computer setup placed in one of the cozy corners.

• It's... beeping, the screen flashing in red with warnings popping up in a dozen windows. That can't be good, can it...?

• Granted you have no clue how to code things and the like. Or just code in general. You've called your friend's sibling's name. Once, twice, but no response and the very undeniable fact that there might be a virus or worse... someone trying to hack into their device was enough to alarm you.

Interference... suddenly. Out of all the humans on this sad excuse for a mudball, there's one tenacious enough to not only interrupt Soundwave's search for data but crudely walk straight into his network with intent. Curious and reckless, his servos stop moving something that Lazerbeak doesn't fail to notice as he and his fellow cassette look at each other. And then he's back into it, he narrows the scan and slices through the city's digital haze to trace the point of origin. Protocol indicating he should move quietly and observe. It's difficult to keep track of, being so close to their manmade tunnels, slipping through his iron grasp and fading into an almost ambient noise.

• You don't know how you're doing this, you don't even know why and for all you know your friend's sibling could have their entire information compromised! But your fingers move as though possessed and you find yourself unable to stop. And now you wonder if it had anything to do with that incident from a week ago. But you definitely know that someone is actively trying to hack the computer, “You're mine now.” You murmur to yourself, responding in plain text and all the amount of taunt you could muster in you.

Before his tracer could lock on, having every bit the intent to scare this human off by revealing their location because that always worked—a spew of numbers and words strung together with an image attached. His tentacles twitch in anticipation, coiling around itself as his head tilts in instinct. And there you are, on his screen forming visuals on who the very human that's dared to intercept him. Bold move, human, he all but manages to swallow the growl building in his chassis. And that gesture... your middle finger's raised. Soundwave might not know what that means but he'll assume that you're insulting him considering the words that appear right after it.

“Come and get me. Coward.”

Next

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

I know we’re all feeling overwhelmed and despairing. What’s happening to this country—not just on abortion rights, but with everything—is downright soul-wrenching. But as tempting as it is to stew in that sadness, I’m asking us all to stand up and snap out of it. Because this issue needs us right now. Over the last 48 hours, Republicans advanced a budget bill to defund Planned Parenthood, RFK Jr. directed the FDA to review regulations for mifepristone, and news broke that a brain dead woman in Georgia is being kept alive against her family’s wishes because she’s pregnant. In the last week, Louisiana officials have opened a second criminal investigation into a New York abortion provider, demanding her extradition; Missouri Republicans advanced a ballot measure to undo an abortion rights amendment (and the will of voters alongside it); and the Trump administration shared plans to push women out of the workforce and back into the home. We don’t need to ask what would happen if women started being arrested for miscarriages—because it’s already happening. We don’t need to conjure up dystopian sci-fi futures where women are being used as incubators, because that future is here. Conservatives had fifty years to write their post-Roe wishlist, and they haven’t taken a beat or breath while barreling their way through it. But here’s what’s keeping me up at night: As we speed towards a future where women aren’t full citizens, a source tells me that some Congressional Democrats are calling abortion a dead issue. It didn’t win them the presidency, so why even bother? I wish I was kidding.

Let’s be clear about what’s happening: While our elected leaders back off rights and freedom for half the country, the anti-abortion movement is more organized and determined than ever. In fact, opposition researchers I’ve spoken to over the last few weeks tell me that they’ve never seen this level of coordination among anti-abortion activists. I’ve noticed the same: organizations are coming together with unprecedented momentum. In part, that’s because ultraconservative billionaire Leonard Leo just poured tens of millions into a new coalition of the country’s most powerful anti-abortion groups, giving them a clear directive: strategically unify and get shit done. Backed by the Trump administration, that’s exactly what they’re doing. Just look at what’s happened with mifepristone. A few weeks ago, FDA chief Marty Makary said he wouldn’t move against abortion medication—unless new data showed it was unsafe. Days later, the conservative Ethics and Public Policy Center (EPPC) dropped a report conveniently ‘proving’ just that. Within 24 hours of the study’s release, Sen. Josh Hawley had a letter on Makary’s desk demanding restrictions on mifepristone.

The coordination wasn’t exactly subtle: Republicans were ready for this study before it even went public. The broader conservative machine was ready to do their jobs, too: Right-wing media outlets ran headline after headline about the ‘danger’ of abortion medication, while conservative influencers amplified the disinformation. In the background, anti-abortion groups rallied around a shared message and launched a website urging readers to flood Makary, Congress, and the HHS with letters.

[...] For the anti-abortion movement, ending Roe wasn’t the finish line—it was the starting pistol. And while the crowd watching may be cheering for those of us who protect reproductive rights, our rivals are still running laps around us. Just as bad, they have their eye on that crowd, too.

The anti-abortion movement knows they can’t win in the long run without public support—that’s why so much of their strategy is dedicated to sparking a culture shift. They’re not flooding social media with disinformation, tradwives, and manosphere podcasts for the fun of it! They’re doing it for the same reason they’re pushing anti-abortion propaganda videos into public school classrooms: to reach, influence, and indoctrinate young people. Now, abortion is incredibly popular—so this kind of effort could take decades. But conservatives are willing to wait it out. After all, they’ve done it before. And with the power of the Trump administration and motivated funders behind them, it’s no wonder that we’re seeing a movement so wholly uninterested in compromise or rest.

Love this column from Jessica Valenti: “Ending Roe wasn’t the finish line—it was the starting pistol” for the anti-abortion extremists… and Democrats want to capitulate on that? HELL NO!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Coprophagic AI crisis

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TORONTO on Mar 22, then with LAURA POITRAS in NYC on Mar 24, then Anaheim, and more!

A key requirement for being a science fiction writer without losing your mind is the ability to distinguish between science fiction (futuristic thought experiments) and predictions. SF writers who lack this trait come to fancy themselves fortune-tellers who SEE! THE! FUTURE!

The thing is, sf writers cheat. We palm cards in order to set up pulp adventure stories that let us indulge our thought experiments. These palmed cards – say, faster-than-light drives or time-machines – are narrative devices, not scientifically grounded proposals.

Historically, the fact that some people – both writers and readers – couldn't tell the difference wasn't all that important, because people who fell prey to the sf-as-prophecy delusion didn't have the power to re-orient our society around their mistaken beliefs. But with the rise and rise of sf-obsessed tech billionaires who keep trying to invent the torment nexus, sf writers are starting to be more vocal about distinguishing between our made-up funny stories and predictions (AKA "cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion"):

https://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2023/11/dont-create-the-torment-nexus.html

In that spirit, I'd like to point to how one of sf's most frequently palmed cards has become a commonplace of the AI crowd. That sleight of hand is: "add enough compute and the computer will wake up." This is a shopworn cliche of sf, the idea that once a computer matches the human brain for "complexity" or "power" (or some other simple-seeming but profoundly nebulous metric), the computer will become conscious. Think of "Mike" in Heinlein's *The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Moon_Is_a_Harsh_Mistress#Plot

For people inflating the current AI hype bubble, this idea that making the AI "more powerful" will correct its defects is key. Whenever an AI "hallucinates" in a way that seems to disqualify it from the high-value applications that justify the torrent of investment in the field, boosters say, "Sure, the AI isn't good enough…yet. But once we shovel an order of magnitude more training data into the hopper, we'll solve that, because (as everyone knows) making the computer 'more powerful' solves the AI problem":

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

As the lawyers say, this "cites facts not in evidence." But let's stipulate that it's true for a moment. If all we need to make the AI better is more training data, is that something we can count on? Consider the problem of "botshit," Andre Spicer and co's very useful coinage describing "inaccurate or fabricated content" shat out at scale by AIs:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4678265

"Botshit" was coined last December, but the internet is already drowning in it. Desperate people, confronted with an economy modeled on a high-speed game of musical chairs in which the opportunities for a decent livelihood grow ever scarcer, are being scammed into generating mountains of botshit in the hopes of securing the elusive "passive income":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Botshit can be produced at a scale and velocity that beggars the imagination. Consider that Amazon has had to cap the number of self-published "books" an author can submit to a mere three books per day:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/sep/20/amazon-restricts-authors-from-self-publishing-more-than-three-books-a-day-after-ai-concerns

As the web becomes an anaerobic lagoon for botshit, the quantum of human-generated "content" in any internet core sample is dwindling to homeopathic levels. Even sources considered to be nominally high-quality, from Cnet articles to legal briefs, are contaminated with botshit:

https://theconversation.com/ai-is-creating-fake-legal-cases-and-making-its-way-into-real-courtrooms-with-disastrous-results-225080

Ironically, AI companies are setting themselves up for this problem. Google and Microsoft's full-court press for "AI powered search" imagines a future for the web in which search-engines stop returning links to web-pages, and instead summarize their content. The question is, why the fuck would anyone write the web if the only "person" who can find what they write is an AI's crawler, which ingests the writing for its own training, but has no interest in steering readers to see what you've written? If AI search ever becomes a thing, the open web will become an AI CAFO and search crawlers will increasingly end up imbibing the contents of its manure lagoon.

This problem has been a long time coming. Just over a year ago, Jathan Sadowski coined the term "Habsburg AI" to describe a model trained on the output of another model:

https://twitter.com/jathansadowski/status/1625245803211272194

There's a certain intuitive case for this being a bad idea, akin to feeding cows a slurry made of the diseased brains of other cows:

https://www.cdc.gov/prions/bse/index.html

But "The Curse of Recursion: Training on Generated Data Makes Models Forget," a recent paper, goes beyond the ick factor of AI that is fed on botshit and delves into the mathematical consequences of AI coprophagia:

https://arxiv.org/abs/2305.17493

Co-author Ross Anderson summarizes the finding neatly: "using model-generated content in training causes irreversible defects":

https://www.lightbluetouchpaper.org/2023/06/06/will-gpt-models-choke-on-their-own-exhaust/

Which is all to say: even if you accept the mystical proposition that more training data "solves" the AI problems that constitute total unsuitability for high-value applications that justify the trillions in valuation analysts are touting, that training data is going to be ever-more elusive.

What's more, while the proposition that "more training data will linearly improve the quality of AI predictions" is a mere article of faith, "training an AI on the output of another AI makes it exponentially worse" is a matter of fact.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/14/14/inhuman-centipede#enshittibottification

Image: Plamenart (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Double_Mobius_Strip.JPG

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[wigglermansblog]

Made in Cybertron

Synopsis : Orion Pax met a bot within the new cave section, the mysterious bot suffers amnesia and Orion wants to help them recover their memories and uncover secrets within Cybertron.

Prologue II >>

---------------

Prologue I

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"Hey! Get back here at once!"

Two guards are chasing after a blue and red bot, who is laughing to himself as he takes sharp turns in  order to escape the guards. He runs through the crowd causing the guards to lose sight of the cogless miner.

Orion Pax quickly gets onto the train that would lead him back to the mines, he grins to himself and pops a few energon cubes into his mouth.

"Easy peasy~" he grins as he leans on the wall.

What a day, he couldn't wait to tell D-16 about his research at the Archives. There's a lot of things he wants to talk about and there's might be a chance for them to find the Matrix of Leadership.

As soon the train reaches the mines, he steps out and goes straight to find his friend, D-16.

His optics spots D-16 pushing a cart full of energon, he grins and starts calling out to the bot. "Hey, D!" he calls out as the grey mech turns his helm and glares at the red blue bot "Orion, where were you?!" he hiss. "You've been missing for hours!".

"It's only like one hour! I was quick, don't worry" assure Orion.

"Quick?! You've missed half the day's shift! If anything happens, I ain't helping you with your workload!" D-16 says in exasperation, unloading the energon into the crate. He clearly dislikes his friend breaking the protocols. Always get himself in trouble and he won't be there to save him if gets himself caught by those guards.

"Oh—" Orion's optic widens in realization, he didn't know he was gone for THAT long. "Well, uhh...heh heh...I'll get to work then" the bot rubs the back of his neck. Guess he has to start his shift before Darkwing or Elita finds out he's been snitching work.

D-16 rolls his optics as he loads the last energon into the crate and he will be done for the day. It was tiring and his body felt sore, the workload has been increasing day by day. They barely get any rest, if they do, they only get a few minutes or so.

He closes the crate and watches it get taken away.

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"Is this all it?" Sentinel says in disbelief, holding a data pad in his hands. He slams the data pad on the table causing everything on the table to be knocked over. He received the news of the mining progression and it wasn't good at all.

Their energon source is depleting and it won't be enough for everyone, let alone... for THEM! The Quintesson.

He has to find a way.

"Argh! There has to be a way!" he vents angrily. His optics turn to Arachnid, "Ready the troops for another expedition, now" he said as the femme nods and exit the office. Once he is alone, he turns around and calls out.

"Zephyrstrike! You told me that everything is going smoothly!" he said, coming out from the shadows is a slim mech in copper and black pallets.

"My master, please. Be patient, my team and I are doing our best to find it" Zephyrstrike said in a calm and soothing tone. "Patience! Patience that's all you said—" Sentinel growls, stomping over to the shorter mech. "I will be doomed once the Quintesson finds out that I barely provide energon for them!" he said.

"I know, master but finding the Matrix isn't easy. SteelHazard is trying his best to locate it, he hasn't had enough sleep for the pass cycles...." the mech said. "Also— I bear good news, master. We have found a new mining area within the deepest caves of Cybertron. It will give us enough supplies for the next 3 moon cycles" Zephyrstrike assures the 'Prime'.

Sentinel quirk a brow at the news, a new mining area means more energon and more energon means more work for the cogless miners. The 'Prime' fixes his structure, "Very well, tell the mining operators about it and make sure everything goes well. Understand?" he said.

Zephyrstrike smiles and bows, "I understand, master" he said before disappearing into the shadows, back where he came from while Sentinel turns and leaves for another expedition.

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"Listen up, all of you miners!" Darkwing's voice boom, causing all the miners to stop whatever they are doing. "The exploration team has discovered a new cave system. You know the drill! We call out your names, get your equipment and start digging!" he said. Some of the miners weren't so happy with the news they have received, another cave to mine and they have to work more than usual.

Their superiors start to call out each bots names and surprise that both Orion and D-16 were included.

Orion let out a groan, "Ugh, really? We barely finish with this cave and now we have another?" he said. "Come on, Orion. We are doing this for the good of Cybertron, for everyone and Sentinel Prime" D-16 said, picking up his mining equipment. "Yeah, I know" Orion smiles as he does the same. Both of them went to the station and were ready to be transported to the new cave.

"Hey, at least we get to see something new" D-16 smiles, nudging his friend. "Who knows if we will find the Matrix in that cave" he said. "Hm, you're right! But—I'm going to miss going to the Archives now" he pouts. "Well, at least now I don't have to cover your aft anymore" D-16 said.

"Are you sure about that?" Orion grins as they board the train as it takes them to the new mining section.

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(End of Prologue I )