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ms-demeanor · 4 months ago

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You may have posted about this before, but im very curious about you saying "email was a mistake" because it's such a cemented part of online communication. Is it the technology?

Email became infrastructural in a way that it was never intended to be and wasn't designed for.

There is too much momentum toward email being the primary means of business communication that unless there is a massive technology shift we're unlikely to see wide adoption of an alternative and email takes up so much space in the IT space that it's hard to say what the alternative would be.

Much of what used to be email now happens in company chat apps, which I think is an improvement in many ways, but you chat with your coworkers in a way that you're unlikely to chat with a client or send a quote to a prospect.

A huge amount of effort goes into making email better, and making email systems talk to each other, and making email secure because it is so ubiquitous that you can't realistically ask people not to use it.

But it's fucking terrible and we're asking too much of a set of protocols that was supposed to send small, not-very-private, communications between academics.

Why can't you send big files via email? Because that's not what email is for.

Why is it a pain in the ass to send encrypted emails? Because that's not what email is for.

Why aren't your emails portable, and easy to move from one service to another? Because that's not what email is for.

Why are emails so easy to spoof? Because they were never meant to be used the way we use them so there was no reason to safeguard against that fifty years ago

It's like how social security cards were never meant to be used as one of your major super serious government IDs where all of your activity through all of your life is tracked, because if they knew they needed a system for that they probably would have built a better one in the first place.

Nobody who sat down and developed email looked more than half a century into the future and went "so people are going to be using this system to create identities to access banking and medical records and grocery shopping and school records so we'd better make sure that it's robust enough to handle all of that" because instead they were thinking "Neat! I can send a digital message to someone on a different computer network than the one that I am literally in the same building as."

We think of email as, like, a piece of certified mail that is hand delivered in tamperproof packaging to only the intended recipient who signs for it with their thumbprint and a retina scan when it is, instead, basically a postcard.

It would be absurd to try to do the things people do with email with postcards, and it's *nearly* as absurd to try to do them via email.

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atalana · 10 months ago

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in other thisisnotawebsitedotcom things, i do really love this one from mr stanford "laptops are an absurd pipe dream" "i'm gonna need all your floppy disks and uh. 8-tracks." pines

like does ford have any idea what leaving someone on read means? have mabel and dipper had the chance by this point to tag team explain: a) that mobile phones exist b) that they have developed to the point where your average preteen now has an entire computer in their pocket c) the concept of text messaging? (and/or social media) d) that read receipts exist (i can't imagine he'd be a fan of this one given how private a person he was even before bill showed up) e) that they have become so ubiquitous that not replying to a message the instant you see it can be interpreted as a deliberate slight and f) that the kids now use that knowledge as an insult

or has he just heard mabel say it around the house and he has never heard those words in that order before but fuck it it sounds rude enough he's choosing to put it as the closing remark in his two sentence response to his ex that also includes the phrase "go choke on glass"

#like either option is great #gravity falls #stanford pines #mabel pines #bill cipher #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #the book of bill

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colleendoran · 1 year ago

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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

Go me!

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt.

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back.

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news.

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work.

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work.

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way.

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry.

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings, enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks.

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

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sirianasims · 3 months ago

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Chapter 44.7

I’ve already finished my coffee and dumped the cup in one of the ubiquitous recycle bins when Marten finally texts me back.

“Almost done, 2 mins.”

I sigh and lean against the large stone blocks. I’ve learned that two minutes usually means at least ten, sometimes more if he gets held up by one of the undergrads he supervises.

The trees have all exploded in vibrant reds and oranges, but there are surprisingly few leaves on the ground. Foxbury is all smooth cement and glass, almost too clean to feel real.

It wouldn’t surprise me if the university has a horde of employees whose only job is to pick up every single leaf as it falls.

I’m holding my phone like a shield as a couple of people glance at me, but not like they recognise me. More like they can tell that I don’t belong here, not with the way I’m hovering awkwardly outside the commons like a lost puppy.

The first time I got here after we started dating, I expected Marten to be waiting for me – actually waiting, on the steps of a building somewhere, or maybe even at the train station, happy to see me. Instead, I received a text with detailed instructions on how to get to his frat, as if I hadn’t just been there, in his bed, a week before.

Marten shows up eleven minutes later.

He kisses me on the cheek and it’s brief, distracted, like he’s already late for something else.

“You look nice,” he says.

That’s all. No ‘I missed you’, no ‘holy shit, you look incredible’. Just nice.

“Thanks. You look… official.”

He grins and straightens the jacket, Foxbury logo embroidered on his chest.

“I had a presentation this morning, some members of the board were there. Had to look the part.”

“I’m sure they were very impressed with you.”

He smirks. “Obviously. I just wish they wouldn’t schedule these meetings during the busiest part of the semester.”

He takes my arm and starts walking, back towards the fraternity. He’s still talking about the presentation, something about neural networks, and I rest my head on his shoulder and let his voice wash over me.

We’ve barely made it back to his room before his demeanor changes. As soon as the door closes behind us, cutting off the noise from his frat mates downstairs, the stupid jacket is gone and he’s pulling me onto his lap.

With Marten it often feels like I’m dating two completely different people. One is some sort of stoic intellectual, the other a very horny video game geek, and I never know which one will be in charge.

I prefer the geek, though. At least I know how to deal with that, and Marten’s intensity, the way I feel wanted whenever I’m in his bed, makes up for a lot of lukewarm texts.

We’ve barely caught our breaths before Marten picks his jeans up from the floor and wakes up his computer. The bed creaks slightly under me as I pull on my leggings, taste of him still in my mouth.

I observe him for a moment. He’s focused on his screens where the lines of code slowly scroll upward like they’re trying to escape the fingers flying across the keyboard.

The hair at the back of his neck is damp from sweat and the entire room smells like sex and body spray and warm, dusty electronics, but I shiver slightly, suddenly feeling cold and forgotten.

“So… is this what the weekend is going to look like, then?” I ask lightly. “Me watching you work?”

The typing doesn’t even slow down. “I told you I had a deadline.”

“Right. But I didn’t realise ‘deadline’ meant ‘silent retreat.’”

Marten sighs, wearily, like I’ve just asked him to solve world hunger. “I’m not ignoring you, Jules, I just need to finish this. It’s due Monday.”

“It’s Friday.”

“Exactly,” he says, still typing. “Which means Monday is very close.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I could’ve just stayed in the city. Or at least brought something to do if I’d known I’d be third-wheeling your homework.”

Marten finally pauses, hands hovering over the keyboard like he doesn’t know whether to keep going or give in. “You came during midterms. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d be excited to see me, spend time with me.”

He swivels in his chair to face me. “I am excited to see you. But I also have responsibilities. You know, like classes? Research? That little PhD thing I came here to do?”

“Wow, thank you for the explanation. I almost forgot I never went to university.”

“That’s not what – fuck, Jules, that’s not what I meant and you know it.” He rubs his eyes. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Right. I’m interrupting the genius at work.”

“Come on,” he mutters. “Don’t be like that.”

“Be like what?”

“Passive-aggressive. Like I’m supposed to drop everything just because you’re here.”

“I’m sorry having an off-campus girlfriend is so inconvenient for you. In the future I’ll make sure to schedule my affection seven to ten business days in advance.”

My words hang in the air. For a second, I think that maybe he’ll get up. Cross the room. Touch me, say something that sounds like he actually cares about me. But he just leans back in his chair, arms crossed.

“You know,” he says, an unpleasant edge to his voice, “not everyone has the luxury of taking selfies all day and calling it work.”

The room goes still, the only sound the faint humming of his computer fan.

“Excuse me?”

Marten’s expression changes – just slightly. Like he realises he stepped on something sharp but doesn’t know if it’ll bleed yet.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Jules…”

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m just a stupid girl who posts stupid shit online. It must be so difficult for you to stoop to my level.”

“You know that’s not how I see you.”

“Do I, though?” There’s no real bite to my voice any more, just sadness. He exhales through his nose, voice softer now.

“Okay. Look. You’re right. This isn’t what you signed up for, I’m just extremely busy right now. Let’s go somewhere for fall break, just the two of us. I’ll take the whole weekend off, and you can pick the place.”

I almost make a snide comment about how that conveniently frees him from planning anything, but I hesitate. It feels like a peace offering made out of glass shards and duct tape, but it’s a peace offering nonetheless and I don’t actually want to continue the fight.

“Really?”

He nods. “Yes. Anywhere you want.”

“Okay. But where would…”

“Seriously, anywhere you want.” The chair squeaks as he turns to the monitors. The keyboard starts clacking and just like that, we’re back. Pretending I got what I wanted.

We don’t talk much after that. Marten is engrossed in his work and I start searching aimlessly on my phone, trying to come up with ideas of where to go, but I soon get distracted. I’m not sure how it happens, but I find myself scrolling through old texts. Paul’s name is at the top of my screen, like a bruise that won’t fade.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, though, and I find myself smiling at the stupid inside jokes and pictures we’ve sent each other. Even though he would call me almost every night, he’d still text me through the day, just telling me random stuff that was on his mind. There’s even a short voice clip he sent me while he was in the recording booth.

Just then, my finger slips, accidentally hitting the play button, but thankfully the volume is turned all the way down. Heart hammering, I quickly put the phone down and lie back on the bed.

The clattering of the keyboard stops and Marten clears his throat. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Just thinking. About where to go, I mean.”

I stare at the ceiling. There are a couple of old glow-in-the-dark stars stuck up there, probably from whoever lived here before. I can’t imagine Marten doing something so frivolous. One of them is peeling off, the sickly-looking green plastic at an angle. I wonder how long it’s been there, almost invisible and ignored until the lights go out, how much longer it’ll keep clinging on before it falls.

I really thought I’d feel safe. More in control, at least.

I thought I’d picked someone who would want me more than I wanted them. Someone who wasn’t so much bigger than me.

So why does it feel like I’m shrinking?

navigation / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #marten rouse

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1o1percentmilk · 1 year ago

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mob: HCI reigen: web development dimple: algorithms ritsu: data science/machine learning teru: software engineering tome: game development serizawa: theory (sorry theory people idk anything abt theory subfields he can have the whole thing) hatori: networks (easiest assignment ever) shou: HPC touichirou: cloud computing/data centers mogami: cyber/IT security tsubomi: programming languages mezato: data science/AI tokugawa: operating systems kamuro: databases shimazaki: computer vision shibata: hardware modifications/overclocking joseph: computer security roshuuto: mobile development hoshida: graphics body improvement club: hardware takenaka: cryptography minegishi: comp bio/synthetic bio matsuo: autonomous robotics koyama: computer architecture (??? i got stuck on this one) sakurai: embedded systems

touichirou is so cloud computing coded

#i dont have a lot of reasoning bc its really janky #my systems engineering bias is showing #HCI is human computer interaction and i think thats really one of the things at the heart of CS... an eventual focus towards humans #cybersecurity and computer security are different to me bc cyber is more psychological and social #it's also a cop out bc ive always put hatojose as a security/hacker duo. but mogami is so security it's not even funny #reigen and roshuuto get the same sort of focus #shou and touichirou contrast in that HPC and cloud computing are two different approaches to the same problem - but i gave touichirou #-data centers anyways as a hint that he's more centralized power than thought of #tokugawa is literally so operating systems. ive talked abt this before #serizawa... hes like the character i dont like so i give him... theory... which i dislike...... sorry theoryheads........#i say that hatori is the easiest assignment and i anticipate ppl like 'oh why didn't you give him something more computer like SWE'#it's because they literally say so in the show that he controls network signals to take remote control of machines. that's it #teru is software engineering bc its ubiquitous and lots you can do with it.#mezato is in the AI cult BUT it is legitimately a cool field with a lot of hype. she's speckle to me #yee #yap #mp100 #yeah putthis in the main tag. at least on my blog #i am open to other ideas u_u

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cyle · 5 months ago

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still confused how to make any of these LLMs useful to me.

while my daughter was napping, i downloaded lm studio and got a dozen of the most popular open source LLMs running on my PC, and they work great with very low latency, but i can't come up with anything to do with them but make boring toy scripts to do stupid shit.

as a test, i fed deepseek r1, llama 3.2, and mistral-small a big spreadsheet of data we've been collecting about my newborn daughter (all of this locally, not transmitting anything off my computer, because i don't want anybody with that data except, y'know, doctors) to see how it compared with several real doctors' advice and prognoses. all of the LLMs suggestions were between generically correct and hilariously wrong. alarmingly wrong in some cases, but usually ending with the suggestion to "consult a medical professional" -- yeah, duh. pretty much no better than old school unreliable WebMD.

then i tried doing some prompt engineering to punch up some of my writing, and everything ended up sounding like it was written by an LLM. i don't get why anybody wants this. i can tell that LLM feel, and i think a lot of people can now, given the horrible sales emails i get every day that sound like they were "punched up" by an LLM. it's got a stink to it. maybe we'll all get used to it; i bet most non-tech people have no clue.

i may write a small script to try to tag some of my blogs' posts for me, because i'm really bad at doing so, but i have very little faith in the open source vision LLMs' ability to classify images. it'll probably not work how i hope. that still feels like something you gotta pay for to get good results.

all of this keeps making me think of ffmpeg. a super cool, tiny, useful program that is very extensible and great at performing a certain task: transcoding media. it used to be horribly annoying to transcode media, and then ffmpeg came along and made it all stupidly simple overnight, but nobody noticed. there was no industry bubble around it.

LLMs feel like they're competing for a space that ubiquitous and useful that we'll take for granted today like ffmpeg. they just haven't fully grasped and appreciated that smallness yet. there isn't money to be made here.

#machine learning #parenting #ai critique #data privacy #medical advice #writing enhancement #blogging tools #ffmpeg #open source software #llm limitations #ai generated tags

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moniquill · 1 year ago

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Dear zoomers and some millennials (anyone who's grown up with ubiquitous cell phone presence in society and is now over the age of 18):

Carry Your Actual Cards With You.

A phone picture of your insurance card or ID cannot be run through my scanner. It does not suffice as a replacement for the actual physical card.

Always presume that someone might need to photocopy your credentials on a machine that's been in continuous operation since computers were beige.

/a medical professional

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omnifuneral · 2 months ago

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I don't really know who this post is "for", but this morning I've been listening to a couple records from right around the height of the "autotune war" of the late 2000s and I have some thoughts.

I was in school for music production right around the time all that was reaching something of a head. 808s and Heartbreak had a death grip on the zeitgeist, Jay-Z released that (corny at the time, ridiculous in retrospect, like most of his mid-to-late career work) "Death of Autotune" song, and even pretty normal people had Very Strong Opinions on something they didn't really understand.

One problem with the discussion was that two VERY different things were happening in popular music at the same time, both of which could reasonably be referred to as "autotune", because they WERE both using the same tooling:

Autotune as an artistic decision - think Kanye, Cher, T-Pain, your favorite rapper today if you're not a total cornball. Natural progression from Moroder's vocoder or Frampton's talkbox, really, but Black people were doing it With Computer now so it was Bad

Autotune designed to be invisible - this is more broadly called "pitch correction" in the industry and is a universal feature of pretty much all pop records made in the last 20 years, but is a LOT better now than it was back then... listen to the 2007 A7X self-titled record or some early Katy Perry if you want to hear how uncanny this could sound at the time. More objectionable sounding IMO, but harder to hear, and it all kind of got lumped together in the public consciousness around really stale, lame, point-missing conversations about "talent" and "authenticity"

Anyway, if this all seems quaint and a little weird to have gotten so worked up about in retrospect, that's because it is. Within a few years, "artistic" autotune was so ubiquitous it became impossible to imagine pop or hip-hop without it, and the tools and techniques for "transparent" pitch correction had gotten so much better that nobody except your real Rick Beato-tier production nerds (myself included) would ever hear it. By 2012 or 2013 the only people still bitching at all were, well, boomers.

The reason I bothered typing all this out, besides the fact that I find this stuff interesting, is that it's basically how I see artistic uses of generative AI shaking out in the next decade or so. There will almost certainly be an increasing bifurcation between uses of AI tools that are obviously AI - indeed, where the AI-ness is part of the point - and works of art where some generative tools were used somewhere in the process more or less transparently. Lots of people will stay very angry about the whole thing for quite some time, and (knowingly or not) conflate the two very different processes when discussing them. Both streams will evolve rapidly both in terms of tool quality and technique refinement, and eventually both totally AI-generated art, or music, or whatever and "traditional" works that employ contemporary tooling will exist side by side in a world where the vast majority of normal people are (mostly) done bitching about it.

Or... I could be totally wrong about everything. Whatever. The future is unwritten.

Either way, I hope you're having a great weekend. ✌️

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