#data processor

[dougielombax]

Okay!

To summarise.

My hypothesis is that the Backrooms (at least the Kane Pixels version) is a hyper advanced, neural physics-based (possibly involving nanotech too, in conjunction with eldritch organic technology), organic data processor and incomprehensible eldritch supercomputer created through reading the minds of those inside it, one so utterly vast it’s borderline incomprehensible and possibly infinite.

At the least.

Less of a megastructure, more of a megastructure, an omnistructure even.

[glitchgh0sty]

No real context,, just messing around with the Decepticon Prowl design 😌🫶

Imagining that he might be able to integrate himself into the databases and tech almost like an extension of his conscience or body,,

Hol up,, what if he was able to move it as well!? As in, maybe the advancements Shockwave gave Prowl allow him to connect to any database, and just, move it around?? From security cameras, to artillery,, he could fight from a distance! Quietly, but effectively? All sharpshooter like!? 🤨,

Imma just let that thought rotate around for a bit,, don’t mind me, 🙌TuŤ

The nonexistent context ✨

[moghedien]

just had google give me a pop up for their new AI in my drive so maybe time to stop using google docs people

[finite-breakpoints]

void set (WIP)

"Which one is he?"

Thel glances at a datapad, scrolling through the entries -- an identifier assigned to each of the occupied data rigs. "B-71. Should be….. right over there, actually. Second quadrant."

Advan follows the line of his sweeping gesture, her gaze landing on a row of glass tubes, entirely too much like…. what does Dyson call them? Repurposing chambers. Like so much of this, it feels wrong in a way she can't quite articulate.

Data processors, after all, are inherently gregarious, social amongst themselves. They don't say much to each other, but the energy in a processor matrix should more than make up for that, strange and lively and vibrant.

The silence, and stillness, in this room is suffocating.

"I've never seen an enclosed processing rig before," she says instead. "I didn't realize it was an option -- let alone that we had a whole matrix of them."

"New process, from what I hear. Something about lack of distractions." Thel pauses then, tilting his head. "Pardon my curiosity, General, but…"

"…Why this one?" She smiles a little. "Because we need a processor -- and one of them saw what we didn't."

She approaches the chamber with some amount of caution. The glass isn't opaque, but it is darkened -- the stillness and steady breathing of a data processor in that thing they call convergence. Conscious, but unaware, disconnected from his immediate surroundings. Must be the primary processor in the array, then. Not necessarily the fastest of them, or even the best -- but one with the skill and patience to keep them working cohesively.

"Bring him up. Slowly."

Thel doesn't listen, of course. Careless. The poor thing nearly falls out of the processing rig, held there only by the restraints. Must be from this Grid, with that external regulator hardware. It's… uncanny, unnatural -- like the distorted cry that escapes him as the pins retract from the input jacks laid across his shoulders. Shaking and ragged, his circuits clearly flooded from the feedback loop.

"Welcome back." She watches the processor emerge from the fog, dark eyes slowly coming to focus in the bright light. "I'd apologize for waking you, but it looks like they don't have you doing anything particularly important this cycle."

He doesn't respond to that. Either he's still recalibrating, or he's already decided not to cooperate.

"My name is Advan. We spoke about eight cycles ago -- but I'd think you don't remember that."

"No, I remember you, General." His voice is surprisingly clear, although he doesn't make eye contact. "Have you come to tell me I was wrong?"

"Not at all. I came to thank you, actually -- you were right. And your warning is the only reason I'm still alive." A chill spreads through her circuits at the idea of it; she holds it down as best as she can. "Not even two cycles later, one of my officers turned on me. It took me quite a while to find you -- I didn't have anything but an identification number to go on."

Some of them, she remembers, don't have anything else. But maybe he's older than she first expected; his arms twitch under the restraints, as though he's expecting them to come loose just for the thought. In a first-gen rig, they would.

"That's not the only reason you're here, is it?" It's not really a question, that strange certainty that seems to come from nothing in particular. "Gratitude isn't really in your people's emotional vocabulary. I've learned that much."

"My people? Should I have a conversation with some of my officers about their behavior?"

"System-separated -- no, there's a word you'd use for them, some of the programs in orange -- I've heard it before. I think you'd say they're…. repurposed."

"You're right about one thing, I didn't come here without motive. I've received a new assignment, out in Gallium City. I'll need a data processor to come along."

"There's a hundred in this matrix alone."

"And I owe quite a lot to one of them in particular." She feels a smile tug at her lips. She already likes him. "How many others are in your array? I understand we'll need to bring at least a few of them with us."

"I'm starting to think that this isn't a request." But he doesn't show any real apprehensiveness or hesitation, when she reaches over to loosen the restraints, freed from the cold mirrored glass. Still focused on something in the distance, in the way they all seem to wander. "There are five of us, total. Or… there were, when I was put into isolation. Eight cycles ago, I guess, if that's the last time you were here. They said I needed to recalibrate. Starting to imagine things. But the System doesn't lie to us, and... she must have brought you here. Because I know what I saw, General -- who I saw."

From behind her, Thel barks a sharp laugh. "Clever thing, aren't you?"

Advan turns around to admonish him -- now is not the time -- and realizes, with no small amount of unease, that her trajectory follows the processor's line of sight. He's been watching Thel, this whole time.

A rush of air as she steps back, one swift and silent motion, and shattered voxels on the floor.

"What's your name?" she asks quietly. And she knows, then, in the pervasive silence, that her earlier question about the array is a moot point. They're all long gone by now -- probably funneled into Demeter's new project. She can't help but wonder what saved him from the same fate.

"Wolfram."

His hands are shaking, as he replaces his disc. She almost feels sorry for him. Processors, after all, aren't really built for violence.

But they are quite good at it, once they've acquired the taste.

[sw5w]

Don't Worry, We Have R2 with Us

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:31:03 - 00:31:08

[flying-potato2]

made this thing for taking the average item flow of a plastanium conveyor over 64 seconds because im fed up with how short the sample time is for the built in item flow meter. Every second it measures how many items are in a conveyor tile and stores each measurement. It then sums all of those up and compares it to the maximum possible value that could have been made (being 10 items for every measurement, 640 items) and outputs how many items, on average, passed through that conveyor tile every second. schematic below cut

With debugging display (the large logic display w the green and red squares)

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

without debug display

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

[proto-actual]

thinking about my concept of data processors and occult practices on the Grid again, because it's going to form a lot of the backbone of "SIGNAL // NOISE" when it gets rewritten

like I'm just thinking about. the idea of being wired directly into the System and feeling all of that data run through your circuits, understanding it at your core but not being able to put it into words -- and then having to come out and readjust to being a normal program, every workday. is this enlightenment? eldritch madness? who can say?

complex sigils as stand-ins for shell scripts -- channeling your will into the System and asking it to help you in return for the cycles you spend in direct communication with it

a lot of this is still nebulous in my head but. yeah. code manipulation is magic is what I'm getting at here

[imarkt001]

EKOMILK ULTRA-MB MILK ANALYSER - i-markt

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[drone9futuristic]

5G-Powered Drones: Ericsson, Qualcomm And Dronus Collaboration In Developing Autonomous Drone Solutions

5G mmWave technology for industrial use. Ericsson, Qualcomm, and Dronus Collaboration in developing autonomous drone solutions. The world of industrial automation is on the cusp of a revolution, and at the forefront is a powerful combination, of 5G technology and autonomous drones.  A recent collaboration between Ericsson, Qualcomm Technologies, Inc., and Dronus provides a glimpse into this exciting future.

[cosmics-beings]

The REAL question to ask about Earthspark Starop is whether or not Hashtag would try to get them together, and how???

YES and no? They are together way before Hashtag comes into the picture! In my previous ask I mentioned that there is a memory loss component. GHOST erased Starscream and Optimus' memories so they have no idea they are together until the coding wears off.

I think Hashtag witnesses them getting back together, and she also keeps their relationship a secret like they ask.

I think she would also somehow help them get all their memories back.

[crossdressingdeath]

I love how I start playing DAO again for the first time in ages and immediately get hit with combat lag so bad that my spells don't land until after combat finishes. I have never had combat lag before. Are you sulking, DAO? Are you sulking because I stopped obsessing over Dragon Age to play a different fantasy RPG? I'm going back to BG3 if you don't sort your shit out, DAO.

[finite-breakpoints]

phantom pain (Angstpril 2024, #10)

[ Previously: a little too late ]

::Your shoulder's acting up.:: Julia nudges him a little, trying to get a better look -- Siv can't see it, of course, but he can feel that tiny bit of resistance under her fingertips, resurfacing pin sockets reducing her touch to nothing but faint pressure on his skin. ::Doesn't look good. You need to have someone look at it again.::

::Yeah, I know.:: The medical center's still short-staffed, even with the influx of programs from Advan's… rehabilitation centers. If he can avoid making it worse, he does. ::Give it a couple cycles, it'll calm down.::

::Siv.::

::What?:: He sits up, stretches out -- it's sore. Been a while since that's happened. ::The circuits haven't split off, right? Doesn't feel like it.::

::No. Looks close, though.::

::You know it's not a big deal. As long as the port stays closed, anyway.::

::I know it means you're stressed, and that you're acting like things are fine, and you won't tell me why.::

::Do we really have to do this right now?:: Immediately hates himself for the way it sounds. She isn't wrong, but it's not like he can tell her what's going on. Not without freaking her out, which is the last thing either of them need, lately. Besides, she has a point, and he can't fault her for being worried about him. ::…Sorry. I'll go to the medical center first thing next cycle. Promise.::

::Gonna hold you to it.::

::I know. --But you don't have to. It's not your job anymore.::

::It's not about obligation. Never was. You know that.:: She yawns. ::I mean, you'd still do it for me, wouldn't you?::

::Yeah. Of course I would. No question.:: He leans over -- carefully, just in case she's right -- and kisses her on the cheek. ::Alright, I'll go patch this up. Go back to sleep.::

She hums something like an assent, and he watches her circuits dim to a slow pulse. A little too proud of herself, honestly…

Siv stands up, doing his best not to disturb her. He's a little out of practice, but he manages it. Closes the door behind him before turning on the light. He's missed this. Missed her. When did they start to drift off in separate directions?

The answer, of course, is looking back at him in the mirror. And then in triplicate, as he unfolds the panels. Shifts slightly, trying to get a better look at the dense array of silver scars stretching across his right shoulder, beginning to mirror to the left. Glowing brighter than they should; maybe it's worse than he thought.

Pulls out a set of patches, the wide ones that will cover most of it. Even the damage patches designed for data processors can't always handle it. The pin sockets are too close together, and there's too many of them, for it to adhere properly. And this doesn't quite stick, either.

It'll do for now. A stopgap, just like everything else.

This is a face he's become more comfortable with, over the cycles. Something that has to be settled into, every time his render changes -- and it hadn't come easily, this last time. A bigger change than it usually is, something that almost felt like a rollback. Too much like his sister -- who isn't exactly herself anymore… not really.

"And whose fault is that?"

The figure standing behind his reflection has no circuits to speak of -- but she radiates a faint light nonetheless. Someone both distant and achingly familiar. Not Yori -- no, Advan -- although easily mistaken. The same look Advan had given him, when she'd arrived in Gallium -- surprise, then disappointment, in how much he'd changed.

"Clu did this to her," he says quietly. "I don't know how. She should have been safe from it. It shouldn't have worked."

"You could have stopped her. You could have stopped so much of this -- but you've left behind everything I gave you."

--And then his input regulators wake up, the impossible sensation of all those pins reconnecting. For just a clock-cycle, he wants more than anything to feel the rush of free-flowing information through his circuits. The chance to chase down the root of the corruption spreading through the Grid, hold it up to the light… and pull it apart, line by line.

She's right. He could have, at one time. But the data rig in the Archives, the one Polaris had taken with him when he left Tron City, refuses to wake for him. Siv isn't a processor anymore -- the System's given him another purpose. The prototyping lab; giving his betas a home, untangling them from what the Occupation's done to them. The network; keeping watch over the programs of Gallium, giving them the tools to fight their own battles.

In the mirror, his circuits shiver -- momentarily giving way to those waveform patterns that increasingly feel less alien, the more he shifts into them, interacts with the network in them. And he knows then, beyond any doubt, that his User's wishes are no longer a factor. Not in his render, not in his function, and not in his decisions.

"No. I took what I needed, and left the rest." Siv takes a deep breath, willing himself to look her in the eye -- and then to stay standing, under the crushing weight of her gaze. "And I don't need you anymore."

"Do you really believe that?"

Before he can answer, the regulator circuits branch off, spidering across his shoulders with no input to temper them. Some long-sleeping part of his code reactivates, reaches out in a desperate reflex… and finds nothing in return, as Lora-Prime watches his circuits burn with something that might just be a smile.

"When you change your mind, I'll be here."

And then the whole room spins, and blinks into nothingness.

[sw5w]

But When the Queen Asked Me to Serve as Senator...

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:39:07

[delightfullyatomiccollector-blog]

Data center processors are the foundational computing engines that power today’s digital infrastructure, enabling everything from cloud services and big data analytics to artificial intelligence and edge computing. Designed to handle vast amounts of data with high speed and efficiency, these processors have evolved far beyond traditional CPUs to include specialized accelerators like GPUs, FPGAs, and custom AI chips. As data centers face increasing demands for performance, scalability, and energy efficiency, the development of advanced processors plays a critical role in shaping the future of computing and digital transformation across industries.

[bbael]

At some point I'll have to look at my writing app and whatever is left from the last time the clouds I was using didn't save my files and nearly everything got deleted and work with it and yeah not feeling so good about that

[bigbuyzone]

Advantages of Using a Milk Data Processing Unit in Haryana

A milk data processing unit is a technology solution that gathers data from various stages of milk production, such as milking, storage, and processing. This data is then analyzed to provide insights into key areas like yield, quality, and equipment performance, ultimately helping dairy farms and processors improve operations and profitability.