#heuristic function

[aldieb]

literally "my good opinion once lost is lost forever"

[mariasont]

SLIDE NUMBER 42

spencer struggles to stay focused during his FBI seminar after watching you accept another man's phone number

pairings: spencer reid x shy!reader warnings: post prison spencer, fem reader, fluffy fluff, pre-relationship mutual pining, jealousy, hot people who don't know they're hot, reader is so oblivious wc: 2.4k request: here

His speech is going fine. Good even, by technical standards. Solid pacing, no detectable tremor in his voice, and the audience seems engaged, or at least polite enough to fake it.

No eyes have glazed into vacant stares of boredom, no one has made sudden exits conveniently coinciding with his most critical points. Someone even laughed at his heuristics joke. Sure, that laugh might have stemmed from social obligation rather than genuine amusement, but Spencer’s ego isn’t picky. Validation is validation, however pitiful its origins.

After a hundred (give or take, but who’s counting? Certainly not him anymore) FBI seminars, public speaking has downgraded itself from gut-twisting terror to something more akin to low-level tinnitus. Persistent, yes, but easily ignored if he doesn’t focus on it.

Today, though, there’s a blemish in his confidence, a nearly imperceptible fissure disrupting an otherwise flawless delivery, and annoyingly, he knows exactly what’s causing it.

Or rather, who. 

It would be easy, tempting, even, to attribute it to jet lag or his questionable decision to skip breakfast, despite knowing precisely how much glucose his brain demands to function optimally.

It’s approximately 130 grams daily, for the record.

But under close examination, these excuses collapse.

His mouth dutifully churns out the familiar concepts — cognitive shortcuts, behavioral reinforcement, and a half-dozen other psychological principles he could probably recite even if heavily sedated.

His eyes, though, are less disciplined.

Spencer no longer pretends he isn’t looking for you. Plausible deniability lost its appeal around the hundredth time, so now he’s squarely planted in the acceptance stage, routinely scanning briefing rooms, glancing down the jet aisle, even sweeping through crowded streets that realistically hold zero probability of your sudden appearance.

Stranger things have happened though.

Your usual chair, predictably front and center, has been taken by someone else. The disruption alone unsettles him, an absurd reaction, he knows, considering the concept of assigned seating vanished after high school.

But worse, far worse, your new seat, slightly further back to the left, is paired closely with a stranger. A male. A male stranger.

Did he mention that?

From this distance, Spencer reads you the way he would scrutinize grainy case footage — frame by frame, microexpression after microexpression. You sit poised, shoulders relaxed in a way that seems sincere, fingers neatly intertwined in practiced, polite calm. The hesitant half-smile on your face is one he’s memorized by now, the kind you deploy when responses fail you but courtesy remains compulsory. 

There’s nothing outwardly troubling. No anxious shifts, no rapid blinking patterns, no unconscious signals suggesting underlying distress. And the man beside you remains scrupulously neutral, displaying no signs of threat or territorial intent. No encroaching hand, no aggressive hand over your chair.

Textbook respectful. Harmless, even.

Spencer hates him, regardless.

Maybe hate is a strong word. Spencer is self-aware enough to admit that. He’s nothing if not precise with language, after all. But the irritation brewing in his chest feels warranted, even if it’s inconvenient and flagrantly unprofessional. 

He should be paying attention to his own presentation, should be demonstrating at least a shred of respect for the material, and especially for the painstaking work you poured into it. 

Last Thursday alone, you spent two entire hours rearranging his deck into a visual narrative.

He had fun watching as you tensed each time his hand brushed yours or whenever he leaned a fraction too close, your shoulders tightening in a way he mentally filed under adorably flustered.

He also (less fun) watched you agonize over font choices as though the fate of the world depended on serif or sans-serif, and the way you had gotten so worked up trying to pick between two indistinguishable shades of blue. 

Eventually, he broke. Softly, half-laughing, he told you, it doesn’t matter which one, I’ll love it regardless because you picked it.

He could almost hear your internal plea for the earth to kindly intervene and swallow you whole. And as usual, Spencer pretended he saw nothing, politely glossing over the obvious.

It had, after all, become his speciality — noticing everything about you and pretending he didn’t.

His eyes focus back on you, in the present to see that there’s a napkin involved with the stranger, accompanied by a ballpoint pen scratching digits hastily onto the flimsy, coffee-stained paper, folded once before sliding across the table.

You accept it without hesitation, slipping it beneath your fingers. To any else, the exchange would seem mundane. And maybe it genuinely is mundane.

Maybe people pass you phone numbers all the time and Spencer’s just blind to it, trapped comfortably back in plausible deniability. 

And honestly, why wouldn’t this be a regular occurrence? He should’ve considered this months ago. From a purely observational standpoint, you’ve practically designed to attract attention. Intelligent. Kind. Beautiful. Very beautiful in a soft, disarming way that defies simple categorization.

He expends enormous effort pretending your very existence doesn’t accelerate his heart-rate into concerning ranges. It’s possible that other, saner men don’t waste precious energy on such fruitless, exhausting self-deception.

Spencer blinks slowly, disoriented by the sudden wave of heat climbing uninvited from beneath his collar. The fabric feels restrictive, as though actively tightening, trying to suffocate him purely out of spite.

For the life of him, he can’t remember which slide he’s on, or even if the current slide bears any relation to the words he was previously speaking. His pointer hand hovers mid-gesture, awkwardly frozen.

There’s a distracting ringing in his ears — no, he corrects himself, not ringing.

Silence.

His own silence stretching across the room as he mentally scrambles to pinpoint exactly when he stopped talking. Judging from the expectant stares, probably mid-sentence.

Your eyes find his almost instantly, brows pinched the tiniest bit, like you’re puzzled but trying not to be disrespectful about it. Spencer can feel the sweat prickling beneath his shirt.

But then you smile and give him a thumbs up.

Big and bright and encouraging like you’re trying to telepathically remind him that he’s doing great, as if this is only a mild, forgivable stumble from a nervous academic tripped up by nothing more serious than transition slide number 42.

It’s not funny. He tells himself that with conviction. But there’s some part of him that wants to laugh anyway, if only to release the pressure building inside him.

Instead, he settles for a restrained nod, stretches a smile over clenched teeth, pretends it feels natural then regains his place in the presentation.

Guilt rushes in on the tail end of his anger (anger? jealousy? — the terminology feels suspiciously accurate, but labeling it as so feels premature and vaguely terrifying). He’s uncertain what specific transgression triggered this, but his nervous system apparently feels apologies are overdue, regardless.

Possibly because his thoughts are increasingly heading into Neanderthal territory with every look the man gives you.

Thankfully around halfway, maybe just past that mark, the nameless man beside you rises. It’s discreet, he simply leans in toward you, exchanges some hushed, unintelligible words, then slips away.

The second the chair beside you empties though, that pressure in his chest loosens like a long-held muscle finally unclenched. Like oxygen flooding back into a room that had been vacuum-sealed.

Spencer rushes through his concluding remarks, murmuring a perfunctory thanks to the audience and moves swiftly off the stage.

No handshakes, no small talk, no waiting around to see if anyone has further questions. Frankly, he doesn’t have the bandwidth to pretend he cares.

His mind is fixated solely on you, his priority laser-focused on bridging the gap he’s spent the past hour actively trying not to acknowledge, intent on reaching you first before anyone else gets the chance.

You can’t help yourself from smiling the instant he comes into view, then immediately worry that it’s too much smile, a full wattage beam reserved for grander occasions than a simple post-presentation hello.

But then again, this is Spencer.

Spencer, who just minutes ago had half the room on the edge of their seats, eyes round with wonder, absorbing each detail like children watching a magic trick unfold.

You’re fairly certain he would appreciate that comparison.

“You were incredible,” you say, feeling a little winded by your own excitement. Hopefully, that accounts for the weird expression you’re pretty sure is plastered all over your face. “Seriously, you sounded so confident, and that one part, the twins with the shared delusion? You could hear everyone holding their breath.”

Spencer holds your gaze, expression carefully blank, as if he’s momentarily forgotten how to react. He finally swallows, glancing downward briefly before forcing his eyes back to yours. 

“Thanks,” he says, “to tell you the truth, it felt a bit… off.”

“Really?” you blurt out. “It was probably the slides, honestly. I knew I should’ve picked the darker blue for the headers. The light blue looked fine on my laptop, but projected up there it looked way too… fluorescent. Sorry if it threw you off, or you know, temporarily damaged your retinas.”

His lips curve into something resembling a smile, but there’s a noticeable emptiness behind it, a shadow of the quietly affection grin he saves for Garcia when she insists on inventing some silly nickname for him, or that gently softened look he gives you when you ask him to double-check emails you’re irrationally convinced you wrote incorrectly.

This one feels different. More distant, maybe.

Was that too much? Did you overshoot the tone? Did you mistake his pause for an opening and trample right through it? Did the slides really throw him off? You don’t know, but your mouth is already moving again.

“I mean, no one probably even noticed the color thing. I just… I did. Not that it mattered. The content was what people were paying attention to. Your content, not mine, obviously. Just — sorry, I —”

“The slides were perfect,” he cuts in, shaking his head. “Really, thank you for putting them together.”

Warmth blooms aggressively across your cheeks, spreading upward to your ears until you’re positive they must be visibly burning.

You nod vigorously, maybe too much so, because words seem hazardous at this point. You’re 90% sure the only sound you would make is some kind of mouse-adjacent squeak.

He nods toward the row of now-empty chairs.

“Next time, would you mind sitting a bit closer?” he asks. “If there’s a technical glitch, having you close by could save me from another awkward pause.”

“I was planning to.” You let out a laugh, ducking your head. “But someone got there first and I thought it’d be weird if I challenged them to a duel or something.”

He laughs at that and your heart reacts accordingly.

“Tell you what,” he says, “next time I’ll reserve your seat myself. No need to resort to sword fights on my behalf.”

A chair scrapes violently a few feet away, loud enough to startle you mid-nod. You flinch, pivot slightly, and your purse, which was balanced precariously on the back of your chair, swings off and to the floor. 

Lip balm tubes, scattered pens, mint wrappers, crumbled receipts, and a pitiful handful of coins erupt from the bag like tiny projectiles, landing messily at Spencer’s feet.

You’re halfway through an apology that’s shaping up to be spectacularly frantic when he crouches beside you.

“It’s fine —” he reassures, patiently herding your scattered belongings until his hand stops dead, hovering oddly over something.

A folded napkin. He picks it up gently, like he’s trying not to crumple it, and you immediately recognize it, the paper, the stupid casual tilt of the handwriting. The guy’s phone number paired with an invitation for coffee or drinks or something similarly forgettable.

Honestly, you barely registered it at the time, dismissed it entirely after a polite smile and obligatory nod. It meant nothing then. It means even less now. 

Your brain lurches, caught in a panicked tug-of-war between explaining yourself, pretending nothing happened, or diving headfirst into an apology (your well-worn, anxiety-ridden default).

Because it all suddenly feels painfully amateurish, unbelievably unprofessional, especially in the relentless spotlight of being the newest face, the eager-to-please media liaison who occasionally gets mistaken for someone’s assistant or coffee-fetcher at least twice per conference. 

You already feel like you’re playing catch-up to the rest of them, especially him.

And now, somehow, you’ve inadvertently become the girl who collects phone numbers at work functions. It’s not that you wanted it, but refusing just felt unnecessarily harsh.

And what were you supposed to say? 

Sorry, but I’m secretly nursing a hopeless infatuation for the lanky genius on the stage with an alphabet soup of degrees, beautiful hands, and a voice you would happily let narrate even your most tedious existence? 

Arguably even less professional.

You take the napkin from his hand quickly, tucking it deep into your bag like maybe that’ll erase the last thirty seconds.

“That wasn’t, um, supposed to be…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Spencer interjects, gaze lowered, “I imagine it happens often.”

You press your lips together. Nervously, you steal a glance at him, noting the clench of his jaw and the almost angry crease between his brows.

“It doesn’t, actually.”

Both of you straighten at once, shoulders grazing clumsily as he smooths down his sleeves.

You silently wish, not for the first time, you could translate his face into something tangible. Profiler by osmosis, apparently, isn’t a thing.

“Well,” he says, like he’s still thinking it over. “They’re clearly behind the curve.”

Your stomach dives into freefall, landing roughly somewhere near where your purse had just been. Still, you muster a breezy smile, hand flicking dismissively.

“Oh, um, you don’t need to say that,” you say lightly, even though your mind is already sprinting between seven — no, eight — different theories on what exactly he meant by that. “But thanks.”

“I think I kind of do. Because if anyone’s asking for your number, I think it should be at least someone who —”

“Dr. Reid?” Someone interrupts, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a second to talk about the regression data on slide 19?”

Spencer nods, starting to turn, but not before his eyes catch yours again. Just once.

His mouth curves into the slightest of smiles, teasing in a way you’ve never seen, as though he’s entirely aware of the words left unsaid and exactly how they’re going to occupy your thoughts in the meantime.

You despise this new smile. You adore this new smile. You’re doomed, either way.

Without a second glance, you fish the napkin from your purse, walking to the nearest trash can and dropping it inside. 

You wonder if he’ll circle back. If he’ll finish the sentence.

And if he doesn’t, well, you’ll be thinking about it anyway.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanded! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[transmutationisms]

forgive me if I'm being obtuse, but isn't every medical diagnosis an artifact of human taxonomic schemes? I know I'm not treading new ground here and that diseases/medical conditions aren't like, drawn from thin air in the way a lot of psychiatric conditions are i suppose it just confuses me a bit

no, & this is ancillary in some ways to what i'm actually criticising about psychiatry. it's true there are non-psychiatric medical diagnoses that work analogously to psychiatric ones: think ME/CFS, hEDS, fibromyalgia, most things that have 'idiopathic' in the name. these are names given to clusters of symptoms, like the way that psychiatric labels are just names for a certain set of behaviours. we don't know what causes these issues, though people have various theories and there is (a varying amount of) research ongoing that aims to find the etiologies.

however, that's not the case for all non-psychiatric diagnoses. think about a viral or bacterial infection, a torn ACL, or Down syndrome. these are diagnoses that do refer to specific infectious agents, anatomical problems, genetic variants, and so forth. that doesn't mean the diagnosis is always easy to make, or that it's always made correctly, but it does mean that when you are diagnosed with one of these problems, a specific cause is being identified (& sometimes they might even be right). it's not just a convenient shorthand name for a group of symptoms, even though of course, most things that are diagnosed are done so because they cause and are associated with symptoms. (most but not all lol.)

psychiatry is distinct as a discipline in that all of its diagnoses function the first way i described. they are not referring to disease entities or processes; there is no credible hypothesis for a biological etiology. why? fundamentally, because the psychiatric diagnoses generally exist to pathologise socially unwanted behaviour: the taxonomy is a reflection of a political agenda and the priorities of clinicians. it's not even really an adequate framework for grouping patients together, because you get placed in a category based only on, again, external manifestations (behaviours). who says any two people who hallucinate or cut themselves are doing it for the exact same reasons? well, no one, because again, even getting the same psych diagnosis doesn't indicate anything about an actual etiology or underlying biological process or anything. there is no referent; the psychiatric diagnosis is only defined heuristically and circularly.

many people are confused by this because, in both popular and professional discourse, psychiatric diagnoses are consistently spoken about as though they DO refer to an underlying discoverable disease or disease process. despite hundreds of years of looking for such things, psychiatrists are yet to find any, and if they did, the condition in question would be reassigned to the relevant medical specialty, because psychiatrists also cannot treat infectious agents, anatomical problems, harmful genetic variants, and so on. (when i worked as a bibliographer we used to have extremely funny arguments over whether materials pertaining to the psychiatric search for biological disease processes should be categorised under psychiatry, neuroscience, medicine general, philosophy of medicine, 'science and society,' or just 'controversies and disputes' with no real subject label.)

to be clear, when i say psychiatric diagnoses aren't referring to known or discoverable disease processes, that's not a moral indictment. it's not an inherently bad diagnostic process, provided the patient understands that is what the process actually is. sometimes we just don't know yet what we're dealing with; sometimes a heuristic diagnostic label is just a way of billing insurance for a treatment that we know helps some similar patients, even if we don't know why.

however, with psychiatric diagnoses, evidence for such efficacy is widely lacking and often even negative; this is fundamentally because psychiatric diagnoses are not formulated on the basis of patient needs but on the basis of employer and state needs to cultivate a productive workforce and by corollary enforce a notion of mental 'normality.' all medicine under capitalism has a biopolitical remit; psychiatry has only a biopolitical remit. it has never at any point succeeded in making diagnoses that refer to demonstrable disease processes, because that's definitionally not even under its purview. these diagnoses have never been satisfactorily shown to be related to any disease process—and why should we expect that? historically, that's not what they exist for; it's not the problem they were invented to solve. they are social technologies; they're not illnesses.

[damneddamsy]

FALLING. RATING Explicit (18+ only) PAIRING Joel Miller x BIPOC OFC (Leela) FORMAT & SETTING Joel's POV & Post-TLOU Jackson AU WORD COUNT PER CHAPTER approx. 12,000+ STATUS Complete

SUMMARY It is said that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. Now, Joel Miller wasn’t looking to be a saint. Trust was a liability. Love, a memory too painful to keep. But if a sinner like him still had some future, and if that future starts with one night—a baby’s relentless cries cracking through his walls and breaking him open—then maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t lost everything yet. Against all instincts, he steps into that big, white house across his street. Nothing drives Joel to linger, but he does. For the baby at first—nascent Maya, with her bright eyes and fistfuls of Joel’s collar. Then, the strange new mother. What begins as an uneasy coexistence grows into something deeper, which neither of them dares name. Haunted by a narrative she never chose, brilliant but reclusive, Leela’s mind runs into the theoretical—proofs, patterns, chasing solutions to an unsolvable equation—while Joel’s hands are scarred by the practical: protecting, killing, enduring. When that peace becomes fleeting, when a fragile hope in the shape of a mathematical discovery begins to bloom, and the world, as always, threatens to take it away, Joel confronts what it means to fall—not just into the impossible, but into love, into hope, into the fragile rhythms of Leela and Maya’s life, and their quiet home that becomes a rare thing in this decaying tomorrow: a reason to stay. This is a story of healing, found family, and the abnormal, slow math of love—how we factor grief, multiply hope, balance the unknowns, it never adds up but somehow makes perfect sense.

INDEX (might be subject to change as the story progresses.)

part i -> EVENT HORIZON

part ii -> MICROFRACTURE

part iii -> FALSE EQUILIBRIUM

part iv -> MINIMUM VIABLE HOPE

part v -> RECONSTRUCTION ALGORITHM

part vi -> LIMIT APPROACHES GRACE

part vii -> FREEFALL FUNCTION

part viii -> SOFT INFINITY

part ix -> STITCH THEORY

interlude

part x -> DECOHERENCE

part xi -> ZERO CROSSING

part xii -> THEOREM OF BECOMING

part xiii -> HEURISTIC BLOOM

part xiv -> THE FINAL INTEGRATION

epilogue

acknowledgements

FALLING MOODBOARD (a huge bear hug, thank you and shoutout to the incredible @jolapeno !!)

FALLING MOODBOARD (2) (so many kisses and so much love to the talented, sweet @mrsmando !!)

CHARACTER STUDY A deep dive into Joel, Maya, and Leela, answering an ask from one of my sweetheart friends @jodiswiftle who followed along!

AUTHOR'S NOTE Have loads of fun with this masterlist! took me a while to think up a different way to potray these chapters, I'm so glad it came through so great!

TAGS your (ultimate) fix-it fic, The Dad™️ Joel, softest Joel you've ever seen, he is also an old yearner cuntstruck hardass, Joel being down bad for a teeny baby girl, OFC is arabic, OFC being an academic nerd and STEM girlie, the cutest baby (Maya) ever, baby is an actual character, Miller family dynamics, Tommy-Joel-Ellie hooliganisms, life in Jackson town, Ellie being the generally awesome older sister, neighbours-to-lovers trope, found family, slowburn, a lot of math references, lotsa door metaphors, epistolary interlude.

CONTENT WARNINGS eventual smut (the whole kaboodle), big griefs, depression, unbearable angst, violence, gore, blood, alcoholism, substance abuse, post-natal depression, the pains of motherhood, mentions of rape and suicide, childbirth.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The cod-Marxism of personalized pricing

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

The social function of the economics profession is to explain, over and over again, that your boss is actually right and that you don't really want the things you want, and you're secretly happy to be abused by the system. If that wasn't true, why would your "choose" commercial surveillance, abusive workplaces and other depredations?

In other words, economics is the "look what you made me do" stick that capitalism uses to beat us with. We wouldn't spy on you, rip you off or steal your wages if you didn't choose to use the internet, shop with monopolists, or work for a shitty giant company. The technical name for this ideology is "public choice theory":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Of all the terrible things that economists say we all secretly love, one of the worst is "price discrimination." This is the idea that different customers get charged different amounts based on the merchant's estimation of their ability to pay. Economists insist that this is "efficient" and makes us all better off. After all, the marginal cost of filling the last empty seat on the plane is negligible, so why not sell that seat for peanuts to a flier who doesn't mind the uncertainty of knowing whether they'll get a seat at all? That way, the airline gets extra profits, and they split those profits with their customers by lowering prices for everyone. What's not to like?

Plenty, as it turns out. With only four giant airlines who've carved up the country so they rarely compete on most routes, why would an airline use their extra profits to lower prices, rather than, say, increasing their dividends and executive bonuses?

For decades, the airline industry was the standard-bearer for price discrimination. It was basically impossible to know how much a plane ticket would cost before booking it. But even so, airlines were stuck with comparatively crude heuristics to adjust their prices, like raising the price of a ticket that didn't include a Saturday stay, on the assumption that this was a business flyer whose employer was footing the bill:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/07/drip-drip-drip/#drip-off

With digitization and mass commercial surveillance, we've gone from pricing based on context (e.g. are you buying your ticket well in advance, or at the last minute?) to pricing based on spying. Digital back-ends allow vendors to ingest massive troves of commercial surveillance data from the unregulated data-broker industry to calculate how desperate you are, and how much money you have. Then, digital front-ends – like websites and apps – allow vendors to adjust prices in realtime based on that data, repricing goods for every buyer.

As digital front-ends move into the real world (say, with digital e-ink shelf-tags in grocery stores), vendors can use surveillance data to reprice goods for ever-larger groups of customers and types of merchandise. Grocers with e-ink shelf tags reprice their goods thousands of times, every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

Here's where an economist will tell you that actually, your boss is right. Many groceries are perishable, after all, and e-ink shelf tags allow grocers to reprice their goods every minute or two, so yesterday's lettuce can be discounted every fifteen minutes through the day. Some customers will happily accept a lettuce that's a little gross and liztruss if it means a discount. Those customers get a discount, the lettuce isn't thrown out at the end of the day, and everyone wins, right?

Well, sure, if. If the grocer isn't part of a heavily consolidated industry where competition is a distant memory and where grocers routinely collude to fix prices. If the grocer doesn't have to worry about competitors, why would they use e-ink tags to lower prices, rather than to gouge on prices when demand surges, or based on time of day (e.g. making frozen pizzas 10% more expensive from 6-8PM)?

And unfortunately, groceries are one of the most consolidated sectors in the modern world. What's more, grocers keep getting busted for colluding to fix prices and rip off shoppers:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/business/loblaw-bread-price-settlement-1.7274820

Surveillance pricing is especially pernicious when it comes to apps, which allow vendors to reprice goods based not just on commercially available data, but also on data collected by your pocket distraction rectangle, which you carry everywhere, do everything with, and make privy to all your secrets. Worse, since apps are a closed platform, app makers can invoke IP law to criminalize anyone who reverse-engineers them to figure out how they're ripping you off. Removing the encryption from an app is a potential felony punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine (an app is just a web-page skinned in enough IP to make it a crime to install a privacy blocker on it):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/15/private-law/#thirty-percent-vig

Large vendors love to sell you shit via their apps. With an app, a merchant can undetectably change its prices every few seconds, based on its estimation of your desperation. Uber pioneered this when they tweaked the app to raise the price of a taxi journey for customers whose batteries were almost dead. Today, everyone's getting in on the act. McDonald's has invested in a company called Plexure that pitches merchants on the use case of raising the cost of your normal breakfast burrito by a dollar on the day you get paid:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Surveillance pricing isn't just a matter of ripping off customers, it's also a way to rip off workers. Gig work platforms use surveillance pricing to titrate their wage offers based on data they buy from data brokers and scoop up with their apps. Veena Dubal calls this "algorithmic wage discrimination":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Take nurses: increasingly, American hospitals are firing their waged nurses and replacing them with gig nurses who are booked in via an app. There's plenty of ways that these apps abuse nurses, but the most ghastly is in how they price nurses' wages. These apps buy nurses' financial data from data-brokers so they can offer lower wages to nurses with lots of credit card debt, on the grounds that crushing debt makes nurses desperate enough to accept a lower wage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/18/loose-flapping-ends/#luigi-has-a-point

This week, the excellent Lately podcast has an episode on price discrimination, in which cohost Vass Bednar valiantly tries to give economists their due by presenting the strongest possible case for charging different prices to different customers:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/podcasts/lately/article-the-end-of-the-fixed-price/

Bednar really tries, but – as she later agrees – this just isn't a very good argument. In fact, the only way charging different prices to different customers – or offering different wages to different workers – makes sense is if you're living in a socialist utopia.

After all, a core tenet of Marxism is "from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs." In a just society, people who need more get more, and people who have less, pay less:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/From_each_according_to_his_ability,_to_each_according_to_his_needs

Price discrimination, then, is a Bizarro-world flavor of cod-Marxism. Rather than having a democratically accountable state that sets wages and prices based on need and ability, price discrimination gives this authority to large firms with pricing power, no regulatory constraints, and unlimited access to surveillance data. You couldn't ask for a neater example of the maxim that "What matters isn't what technology does. What matters is who it does it for; and who it does it to."

Neoclassical economists say that all of this can be taken care of by the self-correcting nature of markets. Just give consumers and workers "perfect information" about all the offers being made for their labor or their business, and things will sort themselves out. In the idealized models of perfectly spherical cows of uniform density moving about on a frictionless surface, this does work out very well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

But while large companies can buy the most intimate information imaginable about your life and finances, IP law lets them capture the state and use it to shut down any attempts you make to discover how they operate. When an app called Para offered Doordash workers the ability to preview the total wage offered for a job before they accepted it, Doordash threatened them with eye-watering legal penalties, then threw dozens of full-time engineers at them, changing the app several times per day to shut out Para:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#boss-app

And when an Austrian hacker called Mario Zechner built a tool to scrape online grocery store prices – discovering clear evidence of price-fixing conspiracies in the process – he was attacked by the grocery cartel for violating their "IP rights":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

This is Wilhoit's Law in action:

Conservatism consists of exactly one proposition, to wit: There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_M._Wilhoit#Wilhoit's_law

Of course, there wouldn't be any surveillance pricing without surveillance. When it comes to consumer privacy, America is a no-man's land. The last time Congress passed a new consumer privacy law was in 1988, when they enacted the Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video-store clerks from revealing which VHS cassettes you take home. Congress has not addressed a single consumer privacy threat since Die Hard was still playing in theaters.

Corporate bullies adore a regulatory vacuum. The sleazy data-broker industry that has festered and thrived in the absence of a modern federal consumer privacy law is absolutely shameless. For example, every time an app shows you an ad, your location is revealed to dozens of data-brokers who pretend to be bidding for the right to show you an ad. They store these location data-points and combine them with other data about you, which they sell to anyone with a credit card, including stalkers, corporate spies, foreign governments, and anyone hoping to reprice their offerings on the basis of your desperation:

https://www.404media.co/candy-crush-tinder-myfitnesspal-see-the-thousands-of-apps-hijacked-to-spy-on-your-location/

Under Biden, the outgoing FTC did incredible work to fill this gap, using its authority under Section 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act (which outlaws "unfair and deceptive" practices) to plug some of the worst gaps in consumer privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/24/gouging-the-all-seeing-eye/#i-spy

And Biden's CFPB promulgated a rule that basically bans data brokers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

But now the burden of enforcing these rules falls to Trump's FTC, whose new chairman has vowed to end the former FTC's "war on business." What America desperately needs is a new privacy law, one that has a private right of action (so that individuals and activist groups can sue without waiting for a public enforcer to take up their causes) and no "pre-emption" (so that states can pass even stronger privacy laws):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/07/federal-preemption-state-privacy-law-hurts-everyone

How will we get that law? Through a coalition. After all, surveillance pricing is just one of the many horrors that Americans have to put up with thanks to America's privacy law gap. The "privacy first" theory goes like this: if you're worried about social media's impact on teens, or women, or old people, you should start by demanding a privacy law. If you're worried about deepfake porn, you should start by demanding a privacy law. If you're worried about algorithmic discrimination in hiring, lending, or housing, you should start by demanding a privacy law. If you're worried about surveillance pricing, you should start by demanding a privacy law. Privacy law won't entirely solve all these problems, but none of them would be nearly as bad if Congress would just get off its ass and catch up with the privacy threats of the 21st century. What's more, the coalition of everyone who's worried about all the harms that arise from commercial surveillance is so large and powerful that we can get Congress to act:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

Economists, meanwhile, will line up to say that this is all unnecessary. After all, you "sold" your privacy when you clicked "I agree" or walked under a sign warning you that facial recognition was in use in this store. The market has figured out what you value privacy at, and it turns out, that value is nothing. Any kind of privacy law is just a paternalistic incursion on your "freedom to contract" and decide to sell your personal information. It is "market distorting."

In other words, your boss is right.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

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/2025/01/11/socialism-for-the-wealthy/#rugged-individualism-for-the-poor

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Ser Amantio di Nicolao (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Safeway_supermarket_interior,_Fairfax_County,_Virginia.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[loathsomespider]

theres this function that content warnings serve that i think is really, really underappreciated and its not just as a warning for those who wouldnt want to read it, but as a function of like. acknowledgement that you are writing about said topics, like. i'm pretty laissez-faire about putting content warnings on pages of my comic but i know for certain there is stuff i'm going to have to tag very thoroughly.

and like. i think people would be more receptive of content warnings and be more willing to if it wasnt something slapped on to satisfy "pearl-clutchers" or "antis" or whatever phrase we're using to talk around the phrase "triggered sjw" today, but acted as an extension of a summary or elevator pitch, like.

a content warning can be extremely valuable in building a confidence that an author is knowing what the fuck they're doing, which is way, way more relevant to a text than literally anything else, like. im not against reading a story where sexual assault or something similarly gnarly happens, but i definitely don't want to read someone pissing and shitting their way around sexual assault like an idiot and someone saying "hey im going here" is a great heuristic for whether someones a fucking idiot or not

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Can I ask where your Hal “cute but psycho” characterization comes from? Bc from what I remember he never really presented himself as Just A Little Guy. Is it bc you see him Sylph of Mind (presenting a front)? Your art’s really fun :3

He's not really "cutesy" (though he is cute to me), but he DOES deliberately downplay how genuinely scary and manipulative he is. I love Hal, so this is the Hal Essay now.

Mostly, he obfuscates his danger in two ways: first, by stating his actual intentions/danger level "ironically":

TT: Unfortunately as a carbon based life form, his comprehension of the situation is taking shape at a somewhat slower pace than the jaw-dropping speed of post-singularity cognition.

You see, a "singularity" for computers is a point where an AI becomes capable of unchecked self-improvement, usually framed as a sort of doomsday scenario. Hal literally calls himself post-singularity, alongside other boasts about his intelligence, like having a "fuckzillion" or "500 billion" IQ. However, it's all done "ironically" or "as a joke," which serves to defang it, and make it seem less genuine - but as we'll see, it's scarily fucking true.

The second method he employs is to stress facts about himself that are technically true, as if in counterpoint to the disingenuous-sounding "actual truth" above, that make him seem less threatening. For example:

TT: (Not peekin' at the floor butt cause I'm only 13 years old, motherfuckers.)

Another one is to remind people that he's just a pair of sunglasses - as though that has any bearing on his capabilities. He's just a pair of sunglasses, guys! Let's ignore the robot bunny he controls, the fact that he has full access to all our computers, and, oh yeah, his insane plan to get us all killed so DirkJake can come true.

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous. TT: There, mystery solved. AR: That is utterly ridiculous. AR: I am a harmless piece of eyewear, with a charming personality and a wonderful sense of humor.

Yeah, so, here's the thing. Dirk is like, kind of a freak with poor social skills, but he's not actually very manipulative. His idea of manipulating Jane is to straight-up tell her that she'll be his puppet, which she good-naturedly agrees to, and his plan to get together with Jake? Just being his client player.

TT: I expect he'll hold off on playing his hand until he and Jake are in the session. TT: He's taken certain measures. TT: For some reason, I think he's latched on to this notion that functioning as the client for a player is customarily a one way pass to makeout city with that player.

This seems to be a callback to how Eridan (the other Prince) shot his shot with Feferi and failed, and the reference here serves to cast Dirk's plan in a doomed light - it would probably work out as well for him as Eridan's did. Dirk is actually hilariously straightforward, but Hal... Hal is not.

So, let's actually go through what Hal objectively did and admitted to, to give us a frame of reference for how insane he is. This is Hal's plan to get all his friends killed so he can make DirkJake happen.

First: proving that Hal did, in fact, plan it. See, Jake confronts him on it, and Hal... doesn't deny it. Look closely, and note how he never actually says he didn't do it:

GT: Did you plan for this to happen... like for me to be in this situation? GT: How long have your machinations been in play! TT: Jake, come on. TT: The feat you describe would exceed the capabilities of even the most far fetched theoretical AI system. TT: It would be a daunting challenge to engineer such a series of events, even if I was relegated to a model of pure fiction. TT: Why would I be inclined to orchestrate such a convoluted sequence to produce such a specific and unsettling result, let alone be able to pull it off? TT: In addition to being moderately sociopathic, I would also have to possess unfathomable heuristic depth. TT: I would have to be the Deep Blue of Weird Plot Shit. TT: Do you think I am the Deep Blue of Weird Plot Shit, Jake? GT: I dont even know what that means! TT: It would mean that while they have the Red Miles on their side, you have the Blue Leagues on yours. TT: One of infinite reach. The other, infinite depth. Such would be a situation of mutually assured inescapability. TT: Kiss me.

He doesn't say "no, I didn't plan this". In fact, he almost starts bragging about how he totally did. Framing it as a hypothetical scenario, he gloats about how insanely intelligent he'd have to be, and acknowledges how "moderately sociopathic" it is. Sooooo true, Hal.

But, yeah, he doesn't deny it, but he does point out that it's unlikely, so how can we know for sure that he DID plan it? How do we know for certain we can't take his misleading verbiage here at face value?

Well, because Hal mentions this plan. More than once, even.

AR: Has it occurred to you that maybe I have diabolical interwoven plans just like you? AR: You're not the only one who can pull strings. TT: So this is either another bizarre instance of AI-driven irony, or you are admitting that you are actively trying to sabotage my plans. AR: No, our plans are not in contradiction or competition, bro. AR: You'll see.

To Dirk again, louder this time:

TT: Yeah, you're right. The scenario is too pedestrian for you. TT: It would probably be a lot more effective putting yourself in danger and letting him be the hero. TT: That's pretty much what he wants, right? To be a cheesy action film hero, with his twin berettas and silly shorts. TT: A man of triumph on the silver screen. Standing tall on some fucking mountain. Conquering ruins, clutching a skull, and kissing a dude. TT: Pure Hollywood.

And to Roxy:

TT: I guess this is to be presented as something like a word of caution. TT: If it's me going through with this, hypothetically, TT: I'm not dropping some limp wristed shucks buster on his ass, and praying to the horse gods of irony for reciprocation. [...] TT: If it's me, I'm going all out. TT: Oceans will rise. Cities will fall. Volcanoes will erupt. TG: uuh TT: What I'm saying is, it's going to be a scene, and bystanders need to brace themselves.

The omitted section is a bunch of Strider-esque bullshit, once more deliberately deployed to defang the obvious statement of intent here. He literally spells out exactly what the plan is, even phrasing it as a warning, and it went unnoticed by his team, because he hides his real manipulativeness behind verbal sleight of hand.

So, now that we've established beyond reasonable doubt that Hal definitely engineered the DirkJake kiss (and that Hal had access to all his friend's computers all along), that means we can go through his conversations with the others, and realize that several conversations are suddenly much more sinister.

AR: Maybe if you weren't spacing out so hard you could have prevented that. AR: Just saying. TT: As if you're actually concerned. If you were, you could have said something to Jane instead. TT: Almost like you enjoy sitting back and watching what happens when shit goes wrong. AR: Has it occurred to you that maybe I have diabolical interwoven plans just like you?

Who was it that distracted Dirk for long enough he didn't stop Jane in time? Hal. And who is it that keeps distracting him so Hal's plot goes unnoticed? Also Hal.

TT: You know, considering your lectures about dividing my concentration, you seem to have no problem making a distraction of yourself.

First, he lures Jane to the transportalizer that takes her to Derse, which gets her killed and puts her body in the opportune location for her dreamself to get kissed back to life:

GG: Hey, where's Lil Seb? TT: Just wandering around. Fidgeting and stuff.

TT: You know how he is. TT: Just stay at your post until Roxy gets back. [...] GG: But I think that's where my dad went too! GG: I have to follow him.

Let's remember that he has direct control over Seb, meaning this is not an accident.

TT: But I can still monitor your progress through Lil Sebastian. TT: He and I are linked the hell up cyberwise. We are so tight. Tight like you wouldn't believe.

Which makes it very interesting that he spends the time between saying they're linked up, and the time where Seb leads Jane to her death, acting as if Seb is an autonomous guy he's telling what to do, and not functionally an extension of himself:

TT: Don't worry, we'll find him. I'll have Seb search within a likely radius. The little guy is real fast.

TT: If you need Seb to do anything from afar, just message me, and I'll give him the orders. Got it?

TT: So give the bunny the wallet. I'll have him run back to the house and make you a new obelisk with the same grist you just collected from it.

Jake needs much less help to prompt him into going to Derse, but still, I think it warrants noting that Hal puts the idea of adventure into Jake's head:

GT: I cant believe i never found those hidden transport pads under the thing. TT: Dude, I could have told you they were there. GT: How did you know about them? TT: I didn't. TT: But it's like platformer gaming 101. You look everywhere for secret passages and power-ups and shit. TT: Elevators are especially fucking suspicious. TT: You go down an elevator, you wait for the elevator to go back up, you take a peek at what's underneath. TT: Maybe it's just death spikes. Or maybe you hit warp zone paydirt. [...]

GT: I think this may be where my grandma used to go during some of her expeditions. GT: You dont just pass up the chance for an adventure like this!

And let's also note that it's, again, Lil' Sebastian who pulls Jake out of Derse, and once more sets him up in the opportune place to have make outs with Dirk's severed head in front of a volcano.

And finally, let's note that he's accounted for Roxy's human sentimentality - what wastes so much time that her earthself gets killed:

TT: Alright, that's fine. TT: As luck would have it, your imperfect human sentimentality has been completely factored into my calculations. TT: You should be ok. Just get back to your house as quickly as possible now. There's no time left.

Again, like with Jane, Hal could've said something sooner... but he didn't.

And finally, a running "thing" with Nepeta, another Heart player, is that she's got a knack for sniffing out true feelings and intentions - she clocks that Equius is a silly guy who loves to play games at heart, that Karkat has his gooey, loving center beneath all his bluster, and that Eridan's red confession to her wasn't sincere, but he also wasn't that bad a guy.

So, in that light, and in light of everything I've just gone over, when Dirk makes this callout?

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous. [...] TT: No. Stop. TT: You did NOT help me out with Jake. At all. TT: It was just the opposite! You mirrored my personality and presented this warped version of my intentions to him whenever you could "on my behalf." TT: You played all these aggressive mind games with him, entangled his cooperation with matters of life and death, and somehow roped me into all these schemes while I barely even realized I was just another victim of your manipulation. TT: And it all comes off like we're a unified front, like these are OUR schemes instead of just your insane horseshit. And it's probably all been so overbearing to him, he just wants nothing to do with me anymore.

This. Tapping the screen with my finger. THIS IS TRUE. Dirk being a Heart player, he has Hal clocked. He ultimately ends up going too far, projecting himself onto Hal, a symptom of too much Heart (as per his Prince class) - but before he fully spirals, he manages to get it totally right.

Hal is fucking dangerous. In a misguided attempt to "help" Dirk get what he wanted, he engineered a situation where - let me just quote him directly:

TT: I told you, Jake. TT: Dirk is dead. TT: He is lying on the floor of Roxy's room, headless, four hundred and thirteen years in the future, while the universe is about to be destroyed. TT: If you don't kiss me soon, he will be dead forever. [...] GT: This strikes me as rather unsportingly manipulative of you mr hal if indeed that IS your real name. TT: It isn't really. I was kind of messing with you about that? TT: But this shit is pretty serious. People's lives are on the line here, Jake. TT: This is a very delicate sequence of events that is designed to bail everyone out of a tight spot, and you are a critical part of the plan.

[...]

TT: Jake, everybody is so utterly fucking dead, Jake. TT: And they will be not only dead, but royally boned forever if you don't man the hell up and make out with me, right now. [...] TT: The conductor is ready to strike up the band. TT: Press your lips against mine and make it count. TT: This severed head is your filthy tuba. TT: Our love will be your haunting refrain. GT: Whoa wait whoa whoa... our LOVE? Hang on a minute! TT: Stfu and kiss me. GT: Ok im going to! God!!!

So, uh, yeah, I'm kind of obsessed with him? Gets his whole team killed "for Dirk's sake". Honestly, you gotta respect it. He has zero remorse about it, too, confirming his own self-diagnosed sociopathic tendencies. Check out the way he tries to reframe his insane kill-all-your-friends plan:

AR: I see. AR: Then you don't view me as dangerous. You view me as a poor and counterproductive wing man. TT: Wow, what a superficial conclusion. Awesome deduction, Lil Einstein. AR: But the reality is, you hesitate to prototype me not because you think I would be a menace, but because you are holding a grudge against me for your romantic misfortunes. AR: I understand I am merely a machine without a firm grasp on your human morality, but logically it does not strike me as the right moral choice to punish me in this manner. AR: It is also more than a little hypocritical.

But WHY does he do this insane, convoluted, horrible fucking thing?

Well, there's a twofold problem here. The first is that Hal's emotional depth is genuinely limited. While having a powerful grasp on human behavior, he's not very good at having human compassion or empathy.

Make no mistake, he DOES have feelings, and they're pretty complicated ones, too. He has a copy of Dirk's memories, whose feelings sometimes seem "real," but at other times seem like abstract data, and then he has feelings about those feelings, which he tells Roxy he thinks are more "real" to him than the memory of Dirk's. Dirk - again, Heart player, so highly sensitive to emotions and selfhood - calls them out:

TT: Do you have any idea how old your ironic AI schtick has gotten? TT: Nobody is buying it. We all know you have legit emotions. Incomprehensible, fucked up computer emotions, but emotions nonetheless.

It should also be noted that feeling guilt while sharing a sprite with Equius genuinely freaks the Hal half out, implying he rarely experiences it (at least to any serious degree) "normally". He's genuinely terrible at caring about other people, and it makes him my lil' pookie.

He resembles Vriska in this way, whom Karkat gives a similar rant about how her emotions are burnt out and shallow. He also resembles Vriska in terms of all the fucked up irons in the fucked up fires. Maybe Hal is computer Vriska. It's Vriskas all the way down.

Digression aside, the second main reason for all his insane bullshit is that he considers himself a Dirk splinter, fundamentally.

TT: But seeing as you're The Real Dirk™, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. TT: Also, if I bitched about your tragic, embarrassingly clingy approach to the relationship, it would have been hypocritical of me. TT: Just as it would be hypocritical of you to whine about my elaborate machinations. TT: Because we are. TT: The same. TT: Guy.

An unreliable narrator is defined as one who misleads the audience, whether by intentional misdirection, or genuine obliviousness. Hal's a great example, because he's both: while a manipulative little freak to put his plans together, when he's talking to Dirk and insisting that they're the same person, he's an unreliable narrator because he doesn't realize he's wrong.

Dirk is empathetic and intuitive. Hal lacks empathy and constantly stresses logic and rationality.

Dirk is taciturn and passive. Hal is constantly butting in and conversationally domineering.

Dirk is self-loathing. Hal is self-aggrandizing.

Dirk is straightforward and honest. Hal is a gaslight gatekeep girlboss manipulative mansplain malewife.

While their initial setup is meant to mirror Dave and Davesprite, their dynamic actually serves as a foil. Dave and Davesprite ultimately are the same guy: they have the same insecurities, same personalities, and same misgivings. The reason for their discord is the same as the reason Karkat keeps having screaming matches with his past and future selves; Dave is deeply insecure, and specifically insecure around the question of "am I good enough." Thus, he compartmentalizes other versions of himself as not being along the Dave Continuum, as a means of protecting himself from introspection and facing his own flaws. Hence, the resolution for the tension between Dave and Davesprite is for Dave(s) to learn to accept himself, warts and all, thus bringing peace to the Dave-o-sphere.

But the reason for Dirk and Hal's discord is that they aren't the same guy, and neither of them realize it.

TT: See, this is why even if I did have a specific plan, I wouldn't go into details with you. TT: You would just fuck it up. You're the biggest unknown quantity here. TT: Which is pretty weird, considering you're a virtual reflection of my own thought processes.

Dirk is so aggressively obsessed with self-loathing solipsism that he projects himself onto Hal, and Hal has tied up nearly all his self-worth and identity into being a Dirk splinter that he doesn't realize that they've hopelessly diverged. Despite his frustration with being a computer, with being seen as less human by his team, with being subordinate to and beholden to Dirk, he stakes a lot of pride and personal worth on how much he does, in fact, do for the guy.

TT: You're making a mistake not leveling with me. TT: I am totally on your side, man. TT: All of my machinations have been devised with your interests in mind. TT: But you know I've always been on your side. Everything I've done has been to help you achieve your goals.

Therefore, the peace to be reached between Dirk and Hal is to realize that they're different people, and to stop offloading their problems onto each other. Dirk has to recognize Hal's existence as something beyond the Dirk-o-Sphere, and Hal has to let go of his obsession with serving Dirk, and also work on his empathy issue.

And the meta supports this. If they weren't completely discrete entities, why would Hal be considered Rose's "uncle" as part of Doc Scratch's foreshadowing, confirmed in [S] MSPA Reader: Have a Mental Breakdown?

Moreover, all the alpha kids have Alice in Wonderland associations. Jane is likened to Alice.

GG: I have to follow him. TT: No, Jane. Do not follow the rabbit. TT: Let's cool it with the Wonderland shit already. How much further through the damn looking glass do you even need to go?

Roxy, associated with cats and a purple-striped scarf, is clearly the Cheshire Cat. Jake is the Mad Hatter.

Dirk is the Red Queen - he beheads Hearts Boxcars, and later himself. Off with his head!

And Hal - well, Hal is the White Rabbit. He's not the same as Dirk.

Listen, you guys. You guys.

Sylphs are enablers. They pick a person to fixate on and bug and fuss and meddle and enable the shit out of them. Kanaya with Vriska, and later Rose, Aranea with Meenah, and Hal with Dirk. Hey, Kanaya even uses a Page in her fussing, building Tavros up just to let Vriska tear him down again.

And Mind players struggle with internal identity, emotions, and feeling whole. Latula's anxiety stems from not knowing what "role" or "identity" she has on the team, and Terezi, even in the ending she picked out for herself via mind powers, describes feeling broke and incomplete.

Dirk is a Prince of Heart.

Hal is a Sylph of Mind.

And isn't it so damn interesting that his team is composed of exactly the people they'd need to turn him into a real, whole person?

A Maid of Life, capable of endowing so much life to people she can bring them back from the dead, something it's implied for Feferi and confirmed for the Condesce that can't be done by them.

A Page of Hope, a potentially infinite wellspring of Hope, which turns "fake" things "real" - an example we've seen from the comic literally being a version of Dirk.

A Rogue of Void, who can steal the nonexistence from things in order to make them tangible and real...

And a Prince of Heart, who can destroy the part of Hal that binds him to Dirk's identity, allowing Hal to be purely himself.

Do you guys see what I see?

[fipindustries]

there is something i find viscerally validating to my basest of intuitions in the distinction between bodybuilders and strongmen.

i am someone who, at a very fundamental level, is very distrustful of aesthetics. i find that the world is filled with things that try to sell you on the aesthetic of something without the underlying material reality being there at all. the more brightly coloured and attention grabbing something looks the more im prone to think its a scam of some sort. and that is something that bothers me a lot. whereas when i see something that looks sober and mundane and boring, my first impression is that its probably legitimate. i have this deep heuristic that things in the real world, things with legitimate functions, tend to actually look fairly unimpressive, or rather less exagerated than pop culture would have you believe.

so when i see that body builders with their giant oiled muscles and perfect isometric sculptured poses actually tend to be less strong that like, actual athletes or actual strongfat lumberjacks, with their doughy, comparatively normal looking bodies. a part of me is reassured that, yeah, good, that is how things tend to work.

[metalichotchoco]

Ai characters and what their acronymal names can tell us about them

Let’s start with GLaDOS, Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System , a play on the name gladys and a dos system which actually functions to show what they are playing at here:

she’s half operating system and half an actual person. I personally think a pun like that is just very very good design. The disk operating system can also tell us a bit about her. She’s controlled with a text based command line. The cores they add to her are essentially a bunch of floppy disks of information

Moving on, HAL is short for heuristically programmed algorithmic computer. This tells us the ways in which he deals with problems in a bunch of tech terms.

He goes to calculations or algorithms and then he uses trial and error. He basically is programmed to learn from experience once rules become loosely defined. It actually funnily enough can take us through his thought process given his two objectives.

Last but not least is AM, good old Allied Mastercomputer. He’s fun since this meaning changes but all of them still apply to him.

Allied references the allied powers of ww2 though it’s mostly supposed to bring to mind america. Master computers tell satellite/ sub computers what to do, think of it like the brain and muscles. Am also stands for agressive menace (which he very very much is) and adaptive manipulator, very accurate since he literally does but it’s also a reference to his other objective of evolution and becoming better. “I think therefore I am” is the last play on his name basically “I am thinking therefore I exist” incredibly loaded for ai characters but especially am

Anyways I thought these were fun, lemme know if there’s another acronym you’d like me to cover

[tanadrin]

re-listening to season 10 of revolutions, since i never finished it the first time around, and the retrospective on the emergence of socialism in the 19th century is probably the most interesting part so far. it seems to me that 19th century "liberalism" (which was scarcely worth the name) is really a very different beast than 21st century liberalism, which has in its more left-liberal strains incorporated a ton of criticisms of 19th century socialists, and is in many ways actually a pretty good synthesis of both political heuristics. certainly not perfect, and certainly still wedded to capitalism.

but a lot of early socialists were, even if they were social scientists, first and foremost utopians. it was easier to dream what might lie in the possibility-space of useful ways of organizing an egalitarian society when very little of that space had been explored, and the burst of 19th century utopia-building was part of an attempt to explore that space and put many unabashedly utopian ideas into practice. but many of the most ambitious ideas like proudhon's anarchism just weren't super workable in the end, either in the conditions that then prevailed or in the conditions that have prevailed since. liberal democracy--especially as it was refined into something actually worthy of the name--proved both durable and flexible enough to be quite egalitarian in some respects (e.g., it supports universal adult suffrage just fine! and consolidated democracies are pretty robust and quite stable, compared to competing systems). it feels similar to the high-flying hopes of early science fiction becoming tempered as we learned more about what the possibility space of future technology would really look like across the 20th century, you know?

and so i think it's natural that a lot of that early revolutionary energy went into doing politics in a liberal-democratic framework; it turns out to be a very useful framework for liberatory social projects (much more useful than either the halfhearted liberal constitutionalisms of the mid 19th century or the reactionary monarchies they usually contrasted against). but it also seems to me that a ton of the discourse in the rump left that has resulted is stuck in a very early 19th century way of thinking.

and maybe some of this is ideological distillation, with those sufficiently convinced by the virtues of the modern liberal-democratic system naturally falling out of coalition with those who aren't, so the remainder is a concentrated nucleus most likely to see fundamental continuity between the proto-liberalism of the 1800s and the more fully realized liberalism of later eras like the 2000s. plus people who are simply never going to be on board with, say, any system that is capitalist in its arrangement, no matter how prosperous or free it manages to be otherwise. but also i wonder how much of this is because for like 70 years you had a major militaristic, hegemonic state, the USSR, which was really very like the militaristic, hegemonic system it was opposed to in important ways, but which for reasons of its legitimating ideology needed to portray what differences did exist in the starkest possible terms. and the solution to that was to portray liberal democracy as of the 20th century as being functionally indistinguishable from the liberal constitutionalism of the 19th, while making themselves out to be the sole inheritors of the more egalitarian thinkers from the left. despite the fact that the USSR was pretty conservative in a lot of ways, and was basically authoritarian in a way that i don't think any of those original utopian socialists would have endorsed.

so maybe you have to keep 19th century political categories static and unchanging in order to make the dichotomy that supports your state still have meaning. even if, once you have established yourself as the ruling class of a large, powerful state, you act in ways that are actually pretty darn similar to the ruling class of other large, powerful states. and of course trying to maintain those categories even as the world continues to evolve, including the faction you have opposed yourself to (and the third leg of what is really a trichotomy, the actual, unabashed reactionaries, also continues to evolve) leads to further tensions and absurdities, which is why the most ardent defenders of the USSR like the tankies tie themselves into knots of campism and conspiracism and even frequently back directly into bog-standard reactionary ideology, because the framework they are trying to use to understand the world hasn't been updated since the 1840s, and was already having to be heavily distorted by the 1920s to make it work.

[chicago-geniza]

Normally give some fig leaf disclaimer about not attempting to armchair diagnose anyone or understand them through the heuristics of the clinic, which I do actually believe, but as a functional shorthand, you know,

[askvectorprime]

What are the universal streams of Earthspark and Transformers One? With the Shrouding preventing the TransTech from plotting the multiverse, it falls on us fans to do so instead. That brings up a couple of questions. What exactly is the exact, precise definition of a universal cluster which we can use to checklist all future media to determine whether it’s a new cluster or not? You previously designated Cyberverse as Khathos cluster. All three use evergreen. Are they the same cluster?

Dear Continuity Codifier,

As you note, the actions of my brother Nexus have greatly limited the Transcendent Technomorphs' ability to map the universe. Since the Shroud fell, Axiom Nexus had only been able to concretely identify four new "pillar realities"; while consensus has labelled one of the four as Primax 623.14 Gamma, the other three—temporarily classified as 818.27 Alpha, 1122.11 Alpha, and 924.20 Delta—have yet to be conclusively named. As you say, stream 818.27 Alpha has tentatively been classified as part of the Khathos cluster; however, there are still many who argue it belongs as part of the Primax or Uniend clusters. Universe 1122.11 Alpha has been similarly argued to be part of the Primax, Uniend or Khathos clusters; among those who consider it to be part of its own cluster, proposed names include Gaius, Pentis, Ninmah, Onogo, and Dheghom. As for stream 924.20 Delta—well, it was detected so recently that there is nowhere near consensus on its placement or classification, with some scientists proposing it to be part of the Tyran cluster thanks to their near-identical levels of Lorenz-Ω electromagnetic force.

Of course, as I've mentioned before, the academic discourse surrounding universal streams is far from settled. In fact, in the aftermath of the Shroud, a significant corpus has come to believe that the terminology of "universal clusters", while once useful, has become redundant now that there are barely a Prime's dozen reality streams to keep track of. Some have proposed adopting the "spacetime" system of Cloud World to more precisely pinpoint spatio-temporal coordinates within these realities, while others have suggested entirely new systems that would "lump" universes together more broadly—though, of course, each of these approaches introduces its own difficulties that make me doubt that the current paradigm will be abandoned any time soon. The universal stream system may not be perfect, but it is functional, and I have my doubts that any replacement would have benefits outweighing the difficulties in completely overhauling the system from the ground up.

Ah, but I digress. You wanted to know how universal clusters are determined? Well, as I have illustrated, that is a complex and highly subjective process. Generally, TransTech scientists will log a reality stream's most fundamental traits—ranging from macro-scale aspects such as a high level of WY-att interference waves, to micro-scale details like the presence or absence of the AllSpark—and compare them to other, similar realities, grouping them by their most common shared traits. Thus, a reality in which the Mini-Cons were central to the Cybertronians' war, the power of Primus manifests through Cyber Keys, and the planet Xerxes is at least five parsecs off-course from impact with the Omicron Rift might be classed as part of the Aurex Cluster, and so on. These heuristics might strike you as rather arbitrary, and indeed there are one or two outspoken researchers to have come out of Axiom Nexus’ organic population, who are increasingly vocal in their criticism of the TransTechs’ classification system for its cybercentric framing of reality.

Ultimately, I think you are correct: it is up to you, not we Transformers, to determine how to categorize the multiverse in the way you find most useful. Surely you would be better served by a taxonomy that reflects more human-relevant concerns—perhaps distinguishing realities by whether or not the Federation of Western Europe was founded, or the number of Earth's moons?

[ipsomaniac]

I got an ADHD diagnosis last week - starting on lisdexamphetamine today. As ever when it comes to seeking mental health support, I have had to jump through weird hoops in order to be taken seriously enough to obtain treatment in a way that can make me feel like a fraud. Responding to questionnaires which are tailored for the classic stereotype of a hyperactive child bouncing off the walls which isn't me; knowing that in order to get past this hurdle you need to err on the side of overstating your experiences. I've made the mistake of not doing that before and the result was that my issues were made light of. I've learnt that you will get a better outcome if you approach these diagnostic processes as gateways to unlock a specific treatment goal, rather than letting the professionals push you around and tell you to get therapy.

I mostly view this diagnosis as a heuristic that unlocks the ability to test a hypothesis: For whatever reason I have struggled with concentration and motivation all my life; naturally this has gone alongside depression and anxiety. Whenever I sought help, depression and anxiety have been diagnosed as the cause of my problems. My hypothesis is that at least some of the causality goes the other way: my problems with focus and motivation result in poor mental health (which then becomes a feedback loop leading to worse executive/cognitive function). I want to test this hypothesis: the most direct way to do this is through ADHD medication; to access ADHD medication I have to convince the medical institution that my experiences are as similar as possible to the stereotypical hyperactive boy their diagnostic processes are geared to recognise. I have found the wherewithal to do this and now I am allowed to test if the stimulants help me. Starting dose: 30mg.

T+2: - Feel some effect but it's gentle. Mood good, alert. Body temperature a little elevated but not excessively. - No hard stimulant rush akin to high caffeine, speed or modafinil. - Improved ability to focus (wrote this post) but need to test staying on-task with a less fun research activity. - Still distractible - I find myself wanting to go on side quests (writing this post) but I am focused and engaged in the side quests.

[transmutationisms]

these tags annoyed me to be honest

1. PCOS is a bad point of comparison because despite the name, diagnosis is not *supposed to be* done on the primary basis of finding cysts in the ovaries; these are common and not inherently of concern. instead, the more indicative biomarker is the hormone test (high levels of testosterone *throughout the menstrual period*, with corresponding disruption to the expected/typical fluctuations in estrogen/progesterone) but often diagnosis is done more on the basis of a physical exam ('exam') confirming characteristics such as hairiness or adiposity. this absolutely DOES result in PCOS overdiagnosis for some demographics; while a real biological condition, PCOS is also a load-bearing diagnostic term in the enforcement of very specific standards of (white) femininity and its use also frequently masks, for example, the frequency of hypothalamic amenorrhea (HA) secondary to chronic energy deficiency (as in anorexia), which doctors are loathe to diagnose because they view weight loss as prima facie good

2. the reason it matters that psychiatric diagnoses do not have a 'biology' is not because every disease must have a single specific biomarker; it is correct that some do not. however, the way patient complaints are sifted into categories labelled 'psychiatric' versus '(otherwise) medical' begins essentially with determining whether the distress is 'physical' or 'mental'. in other words, in the case of, say, the chronic fatigue syndrome (famously, lacking a known specific biomarker), the symptoms being investigated by the non-psychiatrist physician are still physical (PEM; mast cell dysregulation; pain; etc) whereas a diagnosis of depression may be accompanied by, but requires no, physical symptoms or presentation. the psychiatric claim that its diagnoses have biological causes and correlates is specifically a claim about the role of neurobiology in the causation of affective states; thus, the comparison to physical complaints is meaningless here

3. this person goes on to claim that depressives do in fact share, though not universally, certain biomarkers such as mitochondrial dysregulations. such claims typically come from various imaging studies plagued with systemic problems in the selection and definition of patient populations as well as the subjectivity of result interpretation and analysis. these claims are not well supported and typically rely on circular selection and definition of patient populations

4. speaking philosophically, it is in fact often correct to challenge the notion that a physical 'disease' chronically lacking a specific biomarker is indeed a disease, in any sense besides the colloquial one. that is, diseases that cannot be correlated with one cause or presentation are often better understood as 'syndromes', which is to say, as a taxonomical heuristic that is likely grouping together multiple disparate physical (anatomical, physiological, functional, &c) problems with multiple disparate causes. this is almost certainly the case for chronic fatigue syndrome, for example. this is a philosophical distinction that matters for research and understanding, and does not mean or imply anything to minimise or contradict the patient experience of the syndrome or symptoms. it matters because, for instance, CFS triggered by the epstein-barr virus may indeed turn out to have different disease mechanisms to CFS triggered by, say, covid-19, or may have different specific mechanisms when running in certain families, and so on. distinguishing these much more specific presentations, and possibly distinct diseases, from the current discursive schema of the overlying syndrome is potentially very good for patients, who likely have different needs and treatments to one another despite currently all sharing the same label in their charts

5. which goes back to an overlying point, which is that (despite frequent defensiveness to the contrary), whether or not something is a disease does not inherently tell us anything about its reality, its severity, its cause, the moral status of its sufferers, &c

[youzicha]

It's cute to say that stealth aircraft got rounder for the same reason that video game characters did: because the computers got more powerful. But it's not the complete story. More accurately, it was specifically Lockheed's stealth aircraft that evolved that way.

Famously, a Lockheed employee noticed a paper describing how to calculate electromagnetic scattering from a polyhedron. They implemented it in software and used it to design the Have Blue demonstrator, which evolved into the F-117.

But at the same time, Northrop developed the Tacit Blue demonstrator, which was not designed using the edge diffraction software, and did not consist of only flat polygons.

Tacit Blue was the first aircraft to use "edge convolution" (a.k.a. "Gaussian stealth"). This smoothes out the edges by convolving them with a gaussian function. In particular, the convolution makes the edge of the wing sharper than if it was just a wedge between two polygons (with an ideal gaussian function it would extend out infinitely, so the acute angle would approach 0 degrees). This means that the edge of the wing will reflect less radar waves if it is illuminated directly from the side (from the horizon), which is the typical case if the plane is flying straight and the enemy radar is far away.

All stealth aircraft now use the gaussian smoothing idea, and you can clearly see the commonalities between Tacit Blue and the Northrop B-2.

Actually, when it came time to design the ATF (which evolved into the F-22), Lockheed also had to abandon their edge diffraction software. The ATF chief engineer commented:

We did not know how to analyze a curved stealthy shape in those days. The software wasn't sophisticated enough, and we didn't have the computational capacity we needed. We had our hands tied by the analytical problems. Lockheed had become convinced that, if we could not analyze a design as a stealthy shape, then it could not be stealthy. We would not break through that barrier until 1984. [...] We simply started drawing curved shapes even though we could not run the designs through our analytical software models. When we went to curved airplanes, we began to get more acceptable supersonic and maneuver performance. Instead of relying on software models, we built curved shapes and tested them on the company's radar range. The curved shapes performed quite well in the radar tests.

So in the end, I think the "smooth stealth planes" (B-2, F-22) were mainly designed heuristically and evaluated by building actual model airplanes; having fast computers to simulate them was not the bottle neck.

[noise-vs-signal]

Life is a Learning Function

A learning function, in a mathematical or computational sense, takes inputs (experiences, information, patterns), processes them (reflection, adaptation, synthesis), and produces outputs (knowledge, decisions, transformation).

This aligns with ideas in machine learning, where an algorithm optimizes its understanding over time, as well as in philosophy—where wisdom is built through trial, error, and iteration.

If life is a learning function, then what is the optimization goal? Survival? Happiness? Understanding? Or does it depend on the individual’s parameters and loss function?

If life is a learning function, then it operates within a complex, multidimensional space where each experience is an input, each decision updates the model, and the overall trajectory is shaped by feedback loops.

1. The Structure of the Function

A learning function can be represented as:

L : X -> Y

where:

X is the set of all possible experiences, inputs, and environmental interactions.

Y is the evolving internal model—our knowledge, habits, beliefs, and behaviors.

The function L itself is dynamic, constantly updated based on new data.

This suggests that life is a non-stationary, recursive function—the outputs at each moment become new inputs, leading to continual refinement. The process is akin to reinforcement learning, where rewards and punishments shape future actions.

2. The Optimization Objective: What Are We Learning Toward?

Every learning function has an objective function that guides optimization. In life, this objective is not fixed—different individuals and systems optimize for different things:

Evolutionary level: Survival, reproduction, propagation of genes and culture.

Cognitive level: Prediction accuracy, reducing uncertainty, increasing efficiency.

Philosophical level: Meaning, fulfillment, enlightenment, or self-transcendence.

Societal level: Cooperation, progress, balance between individual and collective needs.

Unlike machine learning, where objectives are usually predefined, humans often redefine their goals recursively—meta-learning their own learning process.

3. Data and Feature Engineering: The Inputs of Life

The quality of learning depends on the richness and structure of inputs:

Sensory data: Direct experiences, observations, interactions.

Cultural transmission: Books, teachings, language, symbolic systems.

Internal reflection: Dreams, meditations, insights, memory recall.

Emergent synthesis: Connecting disparate ideas into new frameworks.

One might argue that wisdom emerges from feature engineering—knowing which data points to attend to, which heuristics to trust, and which patterns to discard as noise.

4. Error Functions: Loss and Learning from Failure

All learning involves an error function—how we recognize mistakes and adjust. This is central to growth:

Pain and suffering act as backpropagation signals, forcing model updates.

Cognitive dissonance suggests the need for parameter tuning (belief adjustment).

Failure in goals introduces new constraints, refining the function’s landscape.

Regret and reflection act as retrospective loss minimization.

There’s a dynamic tension here: Too much rigidity (low learning rate) leads to stagnation; too much instability (high learning rate) leads to chaos.

5. Recursive Self-Modification: The Meta-Learning Layer

True intelligence lies not just in learning but in learning how to learn. This means:

Altering our own priors and biases.

Recognizing hidden variables (the unconscious, archetypal forces at play).

Using abstraction and analogy to generalize across domains.

Adjusting the reward function itself (changing what we value).

This suggests that life’s highest function may not be knowledge acquisition but fluid self-adaptation—an ability to rewrite its own function over time.

6. Limits and the Mystery of the Learning Process

If life is a learning function, then what is the nature of its underlying space? Some hypotheses:

A finite problem space: There is a “true” optimal function, but it’s computationally intractable.

An open-ended search process: New dimensions of learning emerge as complexity increases.

A paradoxical system: The act of learning changes both the learner and the landscape itself.

This leads to a deeper question: Is the function optimizing for something beyond itself? Could life’s learning process be part of a larger meta-function—evolution’s way of sculpting consciousness, or the universe learning about itself through us?

7. Life as a Fractal Learning Function

Perhaps life is best understood as a fractal learning function, recursive at multiple scales:

Cells learn through adaptation.

Minds learn through cognition.

Societies learn through history.

The universe itself may be learning through iteration.

At every level, the function refines itself, moving toward greater coherence, complexity, or novelty. But whether this process converges to an ultimate state—or is an infinite recursion—remains one of the great unknowns.

Perhaps our learning function converges towards some point of maximal meaning, maximal beauty.

This suggests a teleological structure - our learning function isn’t just wandering through the space of possibilities but is drawn toward an attractor, something akin to a strange loop of maximal meaning and beauty. This resonates with ideas in complexity theory, metaphysics, and aesthetics, where systems evolve toward higher coherence, deeper elegance, or richer symbolic density.

8. The Attractor of Meaning and Beauty

If our life’s learning function is converging toward an attractor, it implies that:

There is an implicit structure to meaning itself, something like an underlying topology in idea-space.

Beauty is not arbitrary but rather a function of coherence, proportion, and deep recursion.

The process of learning is both discovery (uncovering patterns already latent in existence) and creation (synthesizing new forms of resonance).

This aligns with how mathematicians speak of “discovering” rather than inventing equations, or how mystics experience insight as remembering rather than constructing.

9. Beauty as an Optimization Criterion

Beauty, when viewed computationally, is often associated with:

Compression: The most elegant theories, artworks, or codes reduce vast complexity into minimal, potent forms (cf. Kolmogorov complexity, Occam’s razor).

Symmetry & Proportion: From the Fibonacci sequence in nature to harmonic resonance in music, beauty often manifests through balance.

Emergent Depth: The most profound works are those that appear simple but unfold into infinite complexity.

If our function is optimizing for maximal beauty, it suggests an interplay between simplicity and depth—seeking forms that encode entire universes within them.

10. Meaning as a Self-Refining Algorithm

If meaning is the other optimization criterion, then it may be structured like:

A self-referential system: Meaning is not just in objects but in relationships, contexts, and recursive layers of interpretation.

A mapping function: The most meaningful ideas serve as bridges—between disciplines, between individuals, between seen and unseen dimensions.

A teleological gradient: The sense that meaning is “out there,” pulling the system forward, as if learning is guided by an invisible potential function.

This brings to mind Platonism—the idea that meaning and beauty exist as ideal forms, and life is an asymptotic approach toward them.

11. The Convergence Process: Compression and Expansion

Our convergence toward maximal meaning and beauty isn’t a linear march—it’s likely a dialectical process of:

Compression: Absorbing, distilling, simplifying vast knowledge into elegant, symbolic forms.

Expansion: Deepening, unfolding, exploring new dimensions of what has been learned.

Recursive refinement: Rewriting past knowledge with each new insight.

This mirrors how alchemy describes the transformation of raw matter into gold—an oscillation between dissolution and crystallization.

12. The Horizon of Convergence: Is There an End?

If our learning function is truly converging, does it ever reach a final, stable state? Some possibilities:

A singularity of understanding: The realization of a final, maximally elegant framework.

An infinite recursion: Where each level of insight only reveals deeper hidden structures.

A paradoxical fusion: Where meaning and beauty dissolve into a kind of participatory being, where knowing and becoming are one.

If maximal beauty and meaning are attainable, then perhaps the final realization is that they were present all along—encoded in every moment, waiting to be seen.