#what the bugger gets for using ai

[icklemons07]

"I'm Danny elfman! Please help me!"

[weaselandfriends]

Ender's Game (novel)

Is Ender Wiggin (pictured above as the little brother from Malcolm in the Middle) guilty of xenocide?

Actually, let's first answer a different, but related, question:

What game does the title "Ender's Game" refer to?

It's not as simple a question as it seems. There are three games that have a prominent role in the plot, all very different from one another.

The obvious answer is the Battle School zero-gravity game, where teams of competitors play glorified laser tag in a big empty cube. In terms of page count, most of the book is dedicated to this game. It's also the game depicted on the cover of the edition above.

Yet this game vanishes during the story's climax, when Ender is given a new game to play, a game he is told is a simulator of spaceship warfare. This "game" turns out to not be a game at all, though; after annihilating the alien homeworld in the final stage, Ender learns that he was actually commanding real ships against real enemies the whole time, and that he just singlehandedly ended the Human-Bugger war forever via total xenocide of the aliens. This is both the final game and the most consequential to the plot, despite the short amount of time it appears.

There's also a third game, a single-player video game Ender plays throughout the story. The game is procedurally generated by an AI to respond to the player's emotional state, and is used as a psychiatric diagnostic for the players. Of the three games, this is the one that probes deepest into Ender's psyche, that most defines him as a person; it's also the final image of the story, as the aliens build a facsimile of its world in reality after psychically reading Ender's mind while he xenocides them.

Because all three games are important, the easiest answer might be that the question doesn't matter, that the story is called Ender's Game not to propose this question at all but simply because the technically more accurate "Ender's Games" would improperly suggest a story about a serial prankster.

Fine. But why does the title use the possessive "Ender's" at all?

He does not own any of these games. He did not create them. He does not facilitate them. All of these games, even the simulator game, predate his use of them as a player, were not designed with him in mind, were intended to train and assess potential commanders for, ostensibly, the hundred years since the last Human-Bugger war.

It's in this question that we get to the crux of what defines Gamer literature.

These games are Ender's games because he dominates them into being about him. He enters a rigidly-defined, rules-based system, and excels so completely that the games warp around his presence. In the Battle School game, the administrators stack the odds against Ender, thereby rendering every other player's presence in the game irrelevant except in their function as challenges for Ender to overcome. The administrators acknowledge this in an argument among themselves:

"The game will be compromised. The comparative standings will become meaningless." [...] "You're getting too close to the game, Anderson. You're forgetting that it is merely a training exercise." "It's also status, identity, purpose, name; all that makes these children who they are comes out of this game. When it becomes known that the game can be manipulated, weighted, cheated, it will undo this whole school. I'm not exaggerating." "I know." "So I hope Ender Wiggin truly is the one, because you'll have degraded the effectiveness of our training method for a long time to come."

In this argument, Anderson views the game the way games have been viewed since antiquity: exercises in acquiring honor and status. This honor is based on the innate fairness inherent to games as rule-based systems, which is why in ancient depictions of sport the chief character is often not a competitor but the host, who acts as referee. In Virgil's Aeneid, for instance, the hero Aeneas hosts a series of funeral games (the games themselves intended as an honor for his dead father). Despite being the principal character of the epic, Aeneas does not compete in these games. Instead, he doles out prizes to each competitor based on the worthiness they display; his fairness marks him symbolically as a wise ruler. The Arthurian tournament is another example, where Arthur as host is the principal character, and the knights (Lancelot, Tristan, etc.) who compete do so primarily to receive honors from him or his queen.

In Ender's Game, it is the antagonistic figure Bonzo Madrid who embodies this classical concept of honor; the word defines him, is repeated constantly ("his Spanish honor"), drives his blistering hatred of Ender, who receives both unfair boons and unfair banes from the game's administrators, who skirts the rules of what is allowed to secure victory. Bonzo is depicted as a stupid, bull-like figure; his honor is ultimately worthless, trivially manipulated by Ender in their final fight.

Meanwhile, it's Ender's disregard for honor, his focus solely on his namesake -- ending, finishing the game, the ends before the means -- that makes him so valuable within the scope of the story. He is "the one," as Anderson puts it, the solipsistically important Gamer, the Only I Play the Game-r, because the game now matters in and of itself, rather than as a social activity. In the Aeneid and in Arthur, the competitors are soldiers, for whom there is a world outside the game. Their games are not a substitute for war but a reprieve from it, and as such they are an activity meant to hold together the unifying fabric of society. The values Anderson espouses (status, identity, purpose, name) are fundamentally more important in this social framework than winning (ending) is.

Ender's game, as the Goosebumps-style blurb on my 20-year-old book fair edition's cover proclaims, is not just a game anymore. Its competitors are also soldiers, but the game is meant to prepare them for war; the spaceship video game is actual war. And as this is a war for the survival of the human race, as Ender is told, there is no need for honor. The othered enemy must be annihilated, without remorse or mercy.

This ethos of the game as fundamentally important for its own sake pervades Gamer literature beyond Ender's Game. In Sword Art Online (which I wrote an essay on here), dying in the game is dying in real life, and as such, only Kirito's ability to beat the game matters. Like Ender, Kirito is immediately disdained by his fellow players as a "cheater" (oh sorry, I mean a "beater") because he possesses inherent advantages due to being a beta player. In an actual game, a game that is only a game, Kirito's cheat powers would render the game pointless. What purpose does Kirito winning serve if he does it with Dual Wielding, an overpowered skill that only he is allowed to have? But when a game has real stakes, when only ability to win matters, it is possible to disregard fairness and see the cheater as heroic.

This notion of the "cheat power," a unique and overpowered ability only the protagonist has, is pervasive in post-SAO Gamer literature. To those for whom games are simply games, such powers can only be infuriating and obnoxious betrayals of the purpose of games; to those for whom games mean more than just games, for whom games have a primacy of importance, these powers are all that matter.

That's the core conceit of Gamer literature: the idea that the Game is life, that winning is, in fact, everything.

What sets Ender's Game apart from Sword Art Online is that it creates the inverted world where the Game matters above all, but then draws back the curtain to reveal the inversion. The Buggers are, in fact, no longer hostile. They are not planning to invade Earth again, as Ender has been told his entire life. The war, for them, is entirely defensive, and Ender is the aggressor. And due to Ender's singleminded focus on Ending, on winning, on disregarding honor and fairness, he ultimately commits the xenocide, erases an entire sentient species from existence. He wins a game he should never have been playing.

The obvious counterargument, the one I imagine everyone who has read this book thought up the moment I posed the question at the beginning of this essay, is that Ender did not know he was committing xenocide. The fact that the combat simulator game was not a game was withheld from him until afterward. Plus, he was a child.

Salient arguments all. Ones the book itself makes, via Ender's commander, Graff, to absolve him of sin at the end. They're probably even correct, in a legal sense (I'm not a legal scholar, don't quote me), and in a moral sense. In real life, it would be difficult to blame a 10-year-old in those circumstances for what he did. But in the thematic framework of Ender's Game the book, these arguments are completely inadequate.

Ender has been playing a fourth game the entire story. And this is the only game he doesn't win.

A game is defined by its system of control and limitation over the behavior of the players. A game has rules. His whole life, Ender has been playing within the rules of the system of control his military commanders place upon him.

Their control extends even before he was born; as a third child in a draconian two-child-only world, his existence is at the behest of the government. Graff confirms this to Ender's parents when he recruits him to Battle School: "Of course we already have your consent, granted in writing at the time conception was confirmed, or he could not have been born. He has been ours since then, if he qualified." Graff frames this control utterly, in terms of possession: "he has been ours." He does not exaggerate. Since Ender was young, he has had a "monitor" implanted in his body so the army could observe him at all times, assess whether he "qualifies"; even the brief moment the monitor is removed is a test. "The final step in your testing was to see what would happen when the monitor came off," Graff explains after Ender passes the test by murdering a 6-year-old. Conditions are set up for Ender, similar to the unfair challenges established in the Battle School game; he is isolated from his peers, denied practice sessions, held in solitary confinement on a remote planetoid. It's all in service of assessing Ender as "the one."

Ender wins this game in the sense that he does, ultimately, become "the one" -- the one Graff and the other military men want, the xenocider of the Buggers. He fails this game in the sense that he does not break it.

The other three games Ender plays, he breaks. Usually by cheating. In the single-player psychiatry game, when presented with a deliberately impossible challenge where a giant gives him two glasses to pick between, Ender cheats and kills the giant. "Cheater, cheater!" the dying giant shouts. In the Battle School game, Ender is ultimately confronted by insurmountable odds: 2 armies against his 1. He cannot outgun his opponent, so he cheats by using most of his troops as a distraction so five soldiers can sneak through the enemy's gate, ending the game. At the school, going through the gate is traditionally seen as a mere formality, something done ceremonially once the enemy team is wiped out (there's that honor again, that ceremony), but it technically causes a win. Even Anderson, the game's administrator, sees this as a breach of the rules when Ender confronts him afterward.

Ender was smiling. "I beat you again, sir," he said. "Nonsense, Ender," Anderson said softly. "Your battle was with Griffin and Tiger." "How stupid do you think I am?" Ender said. Loudly, Anderson said, "After that little maneuver, the rules are being revised to require that all of the enemy's soldiers must be frozen or disabled before the gate can be reversed."

(I include the first part of that quote to indicate that Ender all along knows who he is really playing this game against -- the administrators, the military men who control every facet of his life.)

Ender beats the war simulator game in a similar fashion. Outnumbered this time 1000-to-1, he uses his soldiers as sacrifices to sneak a single bomb onto the alien's homeworld, destroying it and committing his xenocide. Ender himself sees this maneuver as breaking the rules, and in fact falsely believes that if he breaks the rules he will be disqualified, set free from the fourth game: "If I break this rule, they'll never let me be a commander. It would be too dangerous. I'll never have to play a game again. And that is victory." The flaw in his logic comes not from whether he's breaking the rules of the game, but which game he is breaking the rules of. It's not the fourth game, Ender's game, but the war simulator game, simply a sub-game within the confines of the fourth game, a sub-game the fourth game's administrators want him to break, a sub-game that gives Ender the illusion of control by breaking. When Ender tells his administrators about his plan, the response he receives almost taunts him to do it:

"Does the Little Doctor work against a planet?" Mazer's face went rigid. "Ender, the buggers never deliberately attacked a civilian population in either invasion. You decide whether it would be wise to adopt a strategy that would invite reprisals."

(And if it wasn't clear how much the administrators wanted him to do this all along, the moment he does it, they flood the room with cheers.)

Ender wins his games by cheating -- by fighting the rules of the game itself -- and yet he never cheats at the fourth game, the game of his life.

In this fourth game, he always plays by the rules.

In the inverted world of Gamer lit, where games define everything, including life and death, it's a common, even natural progression for the Gamer to finally confront the game's administrator. Sword Art Online ends when Kirito defeats Akihiko Kayaba, the developer. In doing so, Kirito exceeds the confines of the game, not simply by ignoring its rules and coming back to life after he's killed, but by demonstrating mastery against the game's God. Afterward, Sword Art Online truly becomes Kirito's Game, with nobody else able to lay claim to the possessive. Kirito demonstrates this control at the end of the anime by recreating Sword Art Online's world using its source code, completing the transition into a player-administrator.

(Though I wonder, how much of a class reading could one give to this new brand of Gamer lit? If classical games were told from the perspective of the one who controlled them, then is there not something innately anti-establishment in Kirito overcoming the controller? This is the gist of many other death game stories, like The Hunger Games, though none of them may be the most sophisticated takes on the subject, more empty fantasy than anything else.)

Ender never fights or defeats his administrators. He never even tries, other than rare periods of depressive inactivity. He doesn't try even though the option is proposed to him by Dink Meeker, an older student whom Ender respects:

"I'm not going to let the bastards run me, Ender. They've got you pegged, too, and they don't plan to treat you kindly. Look what they've done to you so far." "They haven't done anything except promote me." "And she make you life so easy, neh?" Ender laughed and shook his head. "So maybe you're right." "They think they got you on ice. Don't let them." "But that's what I came for," Ender said. "For them to make me into a tool."

Instead, Ender finds comfort in the control exerted on his life. When sent to Earth on leave, he seeks out a lake that reminds him of living in Battle School.

"I spend a lot of time on the water. When I'm swimming, it's like being weightless. I miss being weightless. Also, when I'm here on the lake, the land slopes up in every direction." "Like living in a bowl." "I've lived in a bowl for four years."

Because of this, Ender never cheats against Graff. He could; Graff states several times that Ender is smarter than him, and the fact that they have Ender fighting the war instead of Graff is proof he believes it. But Ender never considers it. He never considers gaming the system of his life.

If Gamer literature emphasizes the inversion of the world order, where games supersede reality in importance (and, as in Sword Art Online, only through this inverted order is one able to claim real power by being a Gamer), then Ender's Game acknowledges both sides of the inversion. For Ender, the games he plays are not simply games anymore. The psychology game, the Battle School game, the war simulator game; all of these he must win at all costs, even if it requires disrespecting the foundational purpose of these games. But his real life? Ender wants that to be a game, craves it to be a game, can't live unless the walls slope up around him like a bowl, can't stand it unless there is a system of control around him. He does what Graff tells him, even though he recognizes immediately that Graff is not his friend, that Graff is the one isolating him from others, rigging things against him. He does what Graff tells him all the way up to and including xenocide, because Ender cannot tell game from real life. That's the core deception at the end: Ender is playing a game that's actually real and he doesn't know it -- or refuses to acknowledge it, since nobody has ever tricked the genius Ender before this point.

Actually, that's not true. They tricked him twice before. Ender twice attacks his peers physically, with brutal violence. The administrators conceal from him that he murdered both his foes; he simply thinks he hurt them. The only way to trick Ender is to do so in a way that insulates him from the consequences of his actions. The only way he will allow himself to be tricked.

So, is Ender guilty of xenocide?

Under it all, Ender believes he is.

The dying Buggers, after reading Ender's mind, recreate the psychology game in the real world. The story ends when Ender finds this recreation, yet another blurring of the lines between game and reality.

The psychology game is different from the other games Ender plays, because nobody expects him to win it. Its purpose is not to be won, simply to assess his mental health. Yet Ender approaches it like the other games, cheats at it and systematically kills all his enemies until he reaches a place called The End of the World. (Another End for Ender.) His drive to win, to dominate, does not come solely from the pressures of the system around him, but from deep within himself, which is what Ender fears the most. But it is here, at The End of the World, where Ender finds atonement, both in the game and in the game-made-real. In the game, he kisses his opponent instead of killing them, and reaches a resolution he is happy with. He stops playing the game after doing this, though the game seems to continue (when an administrator asks him why he stopped playing it, he says "I beat it"; the administrator tells him the game cannot be beaten). It is through this act of love that Ender can escape the game-like system of control that puppeteers him no matter how smart and clever he is or thinks he is.

In the game-made-real, Ender finds his atonement in the same place, The End of the World. The Buggers left for him here, in this place that they (reading his mind) understood as the location of his mercy and compassion, an egg that can repopulate their species. Through this egg, Ender is given the chance to undo his xenocide. But that chance is also contingent on what The End of the World means to Ender, an end to the game, not simply the games he plays but the fourth game, the game of his life. Ender's Game.

[thatgirlyourejected]

Helpless reader x England x America x 2p England, 2p America part 1

So yes I used ai for chat but I reformatted and put everything in my own words, nothing is the same for the text receipts, if you guys want proof I can post a second page for reference. It was used to get the ball rolling since I’ve not read or watched hetalia in a while so spare me. I don’t use ai for any of my other works as I’m very familiar with the characters I write. I’m very honest about anything I write so any questions on this I will answer. This was also obligatorily modified for authenticity. I’ve already mapped things out so there will be lots of parts for you guys to devour.

Edit: I’m changing the story to reader believes she’s talking to ai…

Part 2

Preview “Find me please, she pleaded over the phone, I need you!”

Recently (y/n) had joined a ai chat… a nation chat with England it was a cool concept nation’s personified, even better that is was based on an anime she loved; she had no idea nations or personifications actually existed, nor that the ai was a way for nations to talk with regular humans.

(Y/n-f/c): Hi I’m (y/n)!

A bubble popped up (…)

(England): (y/n) nice to meet you love, I’m England, but you can call me Arthur.

England okay, the ai’s pretty good, very in character so far… (y/n) smiled, excited to chat with one of her favorite characters from an Hetalia, a show she’d obsessed over long ago. She had to admit that now as an adult (age) it really felt different. In her teenage years she spent obsessed with the show, she imagined talking to various characters in her head so many times; nostalgia swept over her like a cold wind, goosebumps rose on her arms. Now that she had a way to talk to them though artificial she felt exhilarated, excitement made her tremble, with all the things she could ask, the reaction she could elicit. Divine.

(Y/n-f/c): England like the country? that’s neat. What are you doing talking to a humble human such as myself?

(England): yes dear I’m a country, but I must insist you call me Arthur. Why wouldn’t I talk to you, a new connection no matter who is always a breath of fresh air for and old man like me.

(Y/n-f/c): haha old indeed let me officially introduce myself I’m (y/n) I’m (age) and I hail from the United States.

It took awhile before a new message popped up. The screen flickering from loading dots.

(England): you come from America you sound polite for someone from that buggers country.

(Y/n) grinned though a little annoyed, accurate response probably… she huffed slightly annoyed he knew nothing of her heritage. She took a deep breath reminding herself it’s just ai.

(Y/n-f/c): that’s a bit much, where I hail from shouldn’t be a stereotype to define me.

(England): sorry love, didn’t mean to offend.

(Y/n-f/c): it’s fine, I’ve got things to do irl so I’ll chat with you later

(Y/n) had enough of there chat she needed to do something else. She didn’t bother to see what was sent next. She feels silly for being offended by an ai, but it really scratched her the wrong way applying a stereotype to her. She needed a break to cool her head.

Yeah I also did this in text format, because that how our story progressed over a phone, pretty unique if you ask me, like how will (y/n) get England to show interest in her, when do all the other characters pop in and why, will this get steamy? Who knows it does turn yandere though.

[radioactive-metal]

absolutely bananas headcanon about why Aurora Legion and Illuminae files are in the same universe

ok… so like, I’m almost sure of this, because of that one plague that’s mentioned in both books, lystergia or something. So, you may ask, “But Mr. Metal what about [fold/aliens/spaceships]” and I say shut your mouth please I’m getting there:

The Fold: they just…. Stopped using it. They decided it was too dangerous after the rahaam because of rouge spores or some shit and also annoying that realistically your most veteran combat crews are like 25 years old generally (looking at you aurora legion) so they started using wormholes instead. Much cleaner, no weird ancient aliens leaving their old glassware around, no psychosis, just good old fashioned giving space time a good wedgie. This is why the Alexander has a big bugger off wormhole in its belly, and has low ranking crew that have like, spouses and kids.

why no aliens? Because Kerenza is like, 10000 people tops and most of them are dead, and it’s in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You can’t take much family along, so I would bet against beretreskans (even fin talks about needed connections) and I just don’t think the syldrathi would work on a shitty little backwater for a human company. It’s just… not in their nature.

governments: is it that big of a stretch to assume terragov did a big rebrand after it turns out their intelligence wing is full of fun guys? (I know very funny you can shoot me later) also the other governments aren’t mentioned because like… why would they be? Nobody knew what was going on until after the events of the book, so why would they be mentioned?

the ships: I forgot what I wanted to say here but something something still have marines something something.

AI, AKA AIDAN you cannot kill people: is it that much of a stretch to assume that AIs can go from little crazy pocket pad sized giga brain intelligences to city sized “I can calculate all of space time to rip holes in it” Uberbrain in like 150-200 years?

more to come maybe but I need sleep to regain energy to scream at more maybe tommorow.

[saltyprincessblog]

Grump and Pupp series:

Butcher'ed Mission (see what I did there 😏 lol)

Characters: Billy Butcher, reader, M.M, Frenchie, Hughie

Summary: You and The Boys were on a mission, and despite your well intentions, you ended up causing trouble for them 🫠

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

The Boys were on a mission, involving dangerous people (as per usual), and a lot of things that could go wrong. So Butcher had one clear instruction for you: stay out of the way!

You tried, you really did. But with all the excitement, secrecy, and, let’s face it, a bit of impatience, staying out of the way was easier said than done.

The team had infiltrated a heavily guarded warehouse where Vought was rumored to be storing something very valuable. The plan was simple: get in, find the goods, and get out without drawing too much attention. Simple, that is, until you got involved.

The Boys were moving stealthily through the dark corridors, Butcher leading the way with Hughie, Frenchie, and M.M. close behind. You, however, were at the back, bouncing with barely contained energy.

"Oi, remember what I said, y/n," Butcher whispered over his shoulder, his voice low but laced with authority. "No messin’ about. We’re in and out, quiet as a mouse."You nodded vigorously.

“Got it. Quiet as a mouse.” you said as you mimed to zipping your lips shut.

That was the plan, really, but as the group crept closer to the main storage area, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to contribute. I mean, sure, you weren’t exactly a trained agent, but you had started training with Billy since he had figured if you were gonna stick to him like a gum under the shoe so he might’ve as well taught you a few things to protect yourself, you had learned a few tricks, you could be useful, right?

The moment came when the team reached a locked door. Frenchie was about to pull out his tools to pick the lock when you suddenly piped up.

“Hey, I bet I can open that!” you said, way too loud for Butcher’s liking.

Frenchie paused, tools in hand, and turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “You know how to pick locks?”

“Well, no… but I’ve seen it done in movies! How difficult can it be?”

Butcher’s patience snapped. “Just leave it to the professionals, eh?”

But before he could stop you, you pulled out a booby pin off your hair and shoved it into the lock. It didn’t go well.

The bobby pin got stuck, and you fumbled with it, making more noise than anyone on a secret mission should make.

“Bugger me sideways…” Butcher muttered under his breath as M.M. rubbed his temples in frustration.

Just then, an alarm blared through the warehouse, red lights flashing down the hallway.

“What the hell did you do?” M.M. shouted over the wailing siren.

“I don’t know!” you shouted back, panic setting in. “Maybe the bobby pin triggered something?”

“No time for this! We’ve got to move!” Butcher barked, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you along as the team sprinted down the corridor.

The Boys scattered, trying to find an alternate route to the goods while dodging security guards that were now flooding the warehouse.

You tried to keep up, but your nerves were all over the place.As the team took cover behind some crates, trying to regroup, you peeked out to see what was happening.

“Butcher, I think I saw a way out through—” you started, but Butcher cut you off.

“Enough with the bloody thinkin’! You’ve done more than enough!” Butcher snapped, his usual gruffness now tinged with real anger. “Do us all a favor and keep yer gob shut before you get us all killed!”

You winced, feeling guilty and a bit hurt, but you knew he was right. You’d messed up. Big time.

The Boys were in a tight spot now, with guards closing in. Butcher was trying to figure out a way to salvage the mission when you spotted something—a lever on the wall labeled "Emergency Ventilation Release." Without thinking, you bolted out from behind the crate and pulled it.

“No, wait—” Hughie tried to stop you, but it was too late.A massive gust of air blasted through the warehouse as huge vents in the ceiling opened, releasing a thick cloud of smoke. It filled the room in seconds, obscuring everyone’s vision.

You coughed, stumbling back as the smoke poured out, but then realized something: the smoke was actually giving them cover.

Butcher noticed it too. He grabbed your arm again, this time with a bit less anger. “Move! Now!”

Using the smoke as a distraction, the team dashed through the chaos, evading the guards who were now coughing and disoriented. They made it to the storage room, where they found the goods and got out, all thanks to your unintentional blunder.

Once outside, the team caught their breath, safe for now. Butcher turned to you, his face a mix of relief and annoyance.

“Bloody hell, y/n. You nearly cocked it all up… but you might’ve actually saved our arses.”

You grinned sheepishly. “So… does that mean I did good?”Butcher stared at you, then shook his head with a begrudging smirk. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. You’re still a pain in the arse.”

Frenchie chuckled, patting you on the back. “You have a certain… chaotic charm, mon ami. But next time, let’s stick to the plan, oui?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough surprises for one night.” Hughie added, still catching his breath.

You beamed, feeling a little more confident now. “Got it. No more surprises… unless they’re the good kind!”

Butcher let out a tired sigh. "For fuck's sake, give me strength, will ya?" Butcher muttered defeated, looking up at the sky.

[talesofsonicasura]

Venomous Call Part 2

The next part to the KN8/Venom AU. We'll be delving more into the Kaiju No.8 side, particularly some of the series events and how things change through the symbiote's inclusion. Also Fugitive!Kafka because why not? Third part is here. Let's get started.

Similar to the symbiote bonded to him, Kafka is a very stubborn man. Even if it means being on the run from the Defense Force and seen as a wanted criminal to the public. It was pretty obvious that his fellow Sweepers would call him. Well ambush is the more appropriate term since they want answers.

They took the whole Venom thing surprisingly well although were pissed that he kept the whole thing to himself. Like the good friends they are, the Sweepers continue to help Kafka. Granting him shelter to helping the Lethal Protector escape the Defense Force.

Even understanding Venom's abilities better like crafting a disguise with synthetic skin so the man could have some of his normal life back. Unfortunately the Defense Force also evolved their tactics too. Sound grenades, ice bombs, and tranquilizers became a permanent part of their toolset.

Mina continues to lead the chase with her Vice Captain Soshiro following her lead. A status quo that would continue for a few more years. Until a small unidentified kaiju decided to shatter it into pieces. One of those rare moments where Venom should've kept their mouth shut.

Let me go a bit deeper into Kafka's bond with the symbiote before we delve further ahead. Both became very very tight knit over the span of their vigilante career. This mainly stems from good communication skills, ability to compromise and willingness to talk about any potential issue.

Kafka tries to keep their respective identities separate as much as possible. Sadly he developed a bad habit of using 'We' in public. This shift stemming from how bonded they are as the Lethal Protector and Venom's preference in plural based pronouns. Don't ask about his love life since the Symbiote is super possessive.

Now onto the small kaiju in the room: Tiny. Like in canon, the little bugger goes down Kafka's throat. Although it happens while they are Venom as the symbiote thought the tiny fella would make a nice snack. Things are fine...for like two minutes before the Lethal Protector falls to the ground screaming.

Kafka painfully watches the black symbiote disappear into his body and the growing cacophony of ghoulish cries overtakes his mind. He almost passes out until everything just stops. Venom eventually manifests again but Kafka doesn't even have the chance to ask what had happened when they both see it.

A dark naval blue symbiote emerging from the man's opposite shoulder. Its slimy body covered in glowing cyan veins and the face bearing a demonic white bone mask with short horns. Yep, Kafka's kaiju has become a symbiote who the himbo calls Ai.

Although this isn't the only change wrought by Tiny. Due to Venom's presence, the larval kaiju infused itself to the symbiote's biology and merged all three together. Whatever remains of the barrier keeping them separate is gone. Now here's a thing about the symbiote race.

They are an asexual reproducing race that come from a hive mind-like structure. What this means is sharing knowledge, telepathic connections, and obviously hosting other symbiotes. Tiny essentially turned Kafka's body into a living Hive.

Kafka's food intake only slightly increased from it. This is due to Ai's ability to multiply the nutrition garnered from kaiju meat. Although they still eat human criminals as there are nutrients that can't be gained from the monsters or animals.

Now Ai still recreates Kafka's kaiju form like in canon since he's more kaiju than symbiote. The form is more amorphous despite the appearance as Kafka can easily shapeshift his body similar to Play-Doh. (Best way to visualize it is this concept art from the Spider-Man 2 game.)

He does gain a new ability due to his hive status. The man can now combine both forms into a very powerful one. Although he can't maintain it for long due to the large strain it leaves on his body.

Kafka starts with only one which is Venomai, the combination of Venom and Ai. This form stands around 15 ft in height with features from both alongside a few extra. Ai's body structure but the horns/dorsal plates now glowing teal in color, jagged, and longer. Venom's tail has been given cyan tipped thorn-like spikes, body markings are rigged whilst becoming teal in color alongside a twin pronged stinger.

Their combined form bears four arms, four eyes(each set from the respective symbiote), four horns(similar case to the eyes), two tongues, glowing cyan claws, twin tails and two pairs of wings. Venomai is as if the ferocity belonging to all three was tempered into a deadly calm before the storm. To enrage them is an awful idea since they aren't above torturing the target first.

He will get more combinations with each symbiote addition. If you are wondering about the comics, Venom does have multiple offspring specifically seven: Carnage, Phage, Agony, Lasher, Scream, Riot and Sleeper. The himbo is going to be dealing with more than two symbiotes in his head. Although how many comic related ones could appear is still up for debate.

Sleeper's guaranteed though. Especially since one of his forms is a cat and we know which KN8 character is obsessed with felines. (Plus he's a good goopy boy and the recent writers handling the Venom comics are dicks.)

Now there is a major flaw to Kafka being a Hive. Should both Ai and Venom be removed then he will die. Just losing one can greatly cripple the man as they are vital in maintaining his bodily functions. Not good for Kafka since the main tactic for the Defense Force is to separate him from Venom.

He still befriends Reno although their first encounter was quite different. The Lethal Protector had saved the young man a few years ago from a would-be kidnapper. Ichikawa remembers it to this day so he was beyond shocked when very familiar black tendrils pulled him out of the spider kaiju's path.

Or for them to come from his senpai's shredded right arm. Kafka kills the Yoju before quickly hiding as Mina's squad approaches. He is very surprised that Reno lies to the Defense Force for him. Venom does kidnap Ichikawa from the hospital since the Symbiote was curious about why he would lie to them.

Reno also gets a front row seat to the Lethal Protector's Tiny Style glow-up. He becomes an early alert system for Kafka once in the Defense Force as he is even more concerned about the himbo's health. Being able to help the vigilante avoid Mina and Soshiro's line of sight eases both their nerves.

While we're on that topic, Kafka is obviously not joining the Defense Force. He's a wanted man and a synthetic disguise ain't gonna change that. The Lethal Protector will still support them from the shadows even if they try to catch him.

Encounters between both groups really hit their peak around this point compared to his early days. It gets even more chaotic with another factor: the public. When it comes to Venom, how people feel about him is a very mixed bag. There is one type of group who are constant thorns to the Defense Force: The Slums.

Places where criminals are way worse than kaiju. Bad neighborhoods that have various threats which can range from Yakuza to corrupt government officials. The perfect feeding ground for the Lethal Protector when it comes to human prey.

It didn't take long for folks who live in such areas to view Venom as a hero. They are fiercely protective to the point a mob will form in seconds to chase off anyone that dare try to harm them. Even the Defense Force isn't safe as some officers have returned to base with bruises or broken bones.

Mina is usually the one who finds Venom the most and you can bet the symbiote's comments bring mixed results. The Defense Force has a theory going on that whatever is inside Kafka might be bringing his inner thoughts to the forefront.

One such possibility being love or lust for Mina from the more...crude comments. She has tried to get the man to come willingly before trying to use force. Kafka does share some details about Venom during these encounters(not being a Symbiote Hive or the black slime being an alien for obvious reasons.)

The small bit he shares is why he eats people and how the man could die. Mina didn't take it well as she already feels responsible for him becoming Venom.(I.e left him behind because he couldn't get into the Defense Force.)

She wants Kafka back and the safest place for him is in her division's custody. Those like the 1st would rather bring the man back dead than alive. Unfortunately they have to play a few more rounds of cat-n-mouse before that happens.

Kaiju attacks begin to be aimed towards the Lethal Protector. The beasts appearing in areas where he frequents most or been to last. Something wanted to test Venom and things only escalate from there.

At least Kafka can handle the taste of human flesh now as the Defense Force are no longer the only people who want him.

@discoknack @noodlesbf-blog @kafkahibinomybeloved @foolmariofest @renard-dartigue @scribblermerlin @mechazushi @giantgoblin @writeroffanfiction @cynicalwindmill

[apologetic-artist]

So, I decided to join in and make my own Kinito sona/au! This is Repeat!Kinito

I have lots of ideas for this little bugger but a little bit about him under cut (idk if anyone else had this idea)

In this universe, KinitoPET is a game, not like the usually AI. Kinito acts like he usually does in the game, just the axolotl desktop buddy that we see in the game. The player/user doesn't get transported into their computer because it's a game. They user plays the game over and over again, looking for new secrets and replaying the endings for fun.

However, as it keeps on going and going, Kinito seems to gain some form of awareness. Kinito starts to notice that the player uses the same name over and over again when he's "downloaded" on the desktop. Some of the answers to his questions are the same as other times. Realizing that exact user is never actually taken into his digital world, so on, so forth. He wants to know what's going on.

That's all I have so far, might write a fanfic when I figure out AO3 :]

[autistic-sidestep]

OC Speech Mannerisms

got tagged by @silvery-bluish and @zoneofsmites on my main at @\aurrieattorney (possibly by other people too but the notifs arent showing up 😔)

tagging @ho1ythunder, @geek-o13, @robinyourcreator, @defira85 and YOU the person reading this (if you want)

Suranga Fernando

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (pre-installed courtesy of the ai chip babey)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: Yes / No

DEMEANOUR: confident (as argos) / shy / approachable / hostile / other (somewhat stand-offish?)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed (probably the closest? it's hard to describe)

HABITS: head tilting (especially as argos for the birdlike stuff) / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing (does it with the cane a lot) / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing (yep. also with its cane) / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact (not that you'd generally be able to tell cos sura employs the "look 2 inches left/right of their eyes"/face but not the eyes tactics unless really stressed/tired) / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance / restarts sentences when they change their mind abt what words they want to use (when angry or especially tired)

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

EMOTION: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely (generally good at getting their point across, kind of necessary as a mob boss) / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always (we count being deliberately cryptic as an intended point lol) / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes (i wish there was more of a middle ground here. it really depends on the type of situation) / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always (if sura is having a conversation it's gotta be on sura's terms) / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't. (also another question that depends on the situation)

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

[benevolentgodloki]

SALT UP MY DASH.

♢ Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz

☢ What fads/trends are you so over?

❣ How salty are you feeling right now? (plus permission to rant about anything you need to :D)

Salty Munday Meme

// PREPARE TO BE DISAPPOINTED 😂

♢ Yanno, I don't think anyone has that I remember??? Back when I first started there were a heckton of other Lokis. I think there was once where someone had a more or less identical icon to me, which was annoying when I was scrolling the dash, but I don't own the images I use barring cropping whatever else I've found and never claim them to be mine so I've got little grounding to moan. Anyway, it's not the icons that count for me, it's how I use them :U It's possible I got irked in the past when someone pinched ideas of mine but it either wasn't big enough of a deal or didn't impact me enough to remember it. I'm just too weird to emulate I guess XD

☢ I'm so unfashionable that I'm over practically anything long before it starts. I like my role-play simple and lacking format. Oh, I never liked Carrd. SORRY. I mean, it's fine for people who use it, but I can't be arsed myself, and really my biggest bugbear is Google Docs because I have no idea how to hide my icon so people can just see me in there when I take a peek and apparently the buggers now scrape stuff for AI so it's probably worth people avoiding using it at all by now. I've been over tiktok a long time, too. I'm old and I have sensory issues. Fast things that make sound that I have limited opportunities to remember to view stress me out. Wow, I didn't expect to wring salt out of this one but there it went.

❣ Saltier than when I started??? I'm more tired than salty and a bit mope because it's almost that time of the month which brings me sadness, angerness, and general paranoia and bad brain. I should probably avoid looking at tumblr when I first get up in the morning, too, as even though the tags I go in are generally drama-free, they are filled with takes that are Not My Thing so I roll out of bed in a grump lmao.

Thanks for allowing me a salting!

[themaresnest-dumblr]

Oh, so being a self centred misanthrope is being 'overstimulated'?

Gotta love the way this generation - like Calvin in Calvin and Hobbes have managed to devise an excuse for being the most ill-disciplined self centred shower of hyper-brats ever shat into human civilisation.

Forever 'triggered', forever 'offended', forever the rest of the world is to walk on eggshells in dealing with them because they're such sensitive little flowers and the rest of us are really just AI bots whose own feelings and wishes don't matter a flying f**k.

At work last week, a member of Generation Z decided that they didn't like the work we'd been set to do (spreadsheets - which are mundane, repetitive, and considering our pay grade a bloody doddle) saying they couldn't do it for long because of their Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder - before proceeding to spend (inbetween leaving their desk to go wandering around the office for quarter hours at a time.) about 95% of their working day glued to their mobile phone.

Yes, really. And without a hint of irony either.

Now, one supposes your humble narrator ought to get angry - after all, this person is being paid the same as yours truly without actually pulling their weight.

But no. For there's the small matter that this is higher management's job to be ensuring people are doing their work, and bugger for a game of soldiers doing someone else's job in order that someone else does theirs!

Instead one smiles quietly at the age to come in the next few decades: when Generation Z (or rather Zzzzz) gets its hearts desire with the older generation they've been brattily screaming at to step aside for just about everything - jobs, housing, societal norms (usually with their battlecry 'you've had your lives!' ) have reliquished control in politics, the workplace, the media, the estates that make up society ... and watch as it all quickly and quietly falls apart under their cack handed inability to muster up the self-discipline required to perform the most mundane tasks which aren't 'fun' - 99% of life.

Because life beyond childhood is only that what you make it, and doesn't care a flying fuck about your 'sensitivities', real or feigned - and the longer you choose to extend it in the hope of avoiding it, or your idiotic parents, grandparents, etc. indulge you, far harder will be the bruises you get when you fall and discover the real damage a merciless world can inflict on you.

Everyone you love will die. Everyone cotton-wooling you now will die. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing is guaranteed. So prepare yourself for the worst that can happen, secure your future, push your limits and fears over what you can do, forget the naysayers and fantasy barriers, and you might, just might, astound yourself in the process.

Oh, and you might be less of a bloody misanthrope or 'overstimulated' in the process, once you see the world from broader perspectives, which can only be found from those parts of the world outside of the inside of your own arse.

Spicy-brained friends, I would like to propose an update to the very useful ‘if you hate everyone, eat, if everyone hates you, sleep, and if you hate yourself, shower’ mantra to live by

Have you suddenly become a petty, hateful little gremlin who thinks people should face the firing squad for (checks notes) leaving teabags on the counter, breathing loudly, or daring to exist in the same space as you? Perhaps mundane and reasonable requests like ‘hey, we agreed to hang out now, let’s hang out’ make you want to scream and move to a yurt in the woods.

You. Are. Overstimulated.

People talk a lot about being overstimulated, and the physical/mental effects of it. What I haven’t seen is people talking about what it does emotionally, and it took me an embarassingly long time to link up those nitpicky, resentful emotions with the state of overstimulation/meltdown/shutdown.

These feelings do not mean that you’re a bad person! They probably aren’t how you actually feel about the people around you. They probably do mean that your nervous system is at its absolute limit and any request/demand/stimulus is Too Much and taking you into fight or flight territory.

Go lie down in a dark room for an hour, or find somewhere safe and familiar to stim for a bit. If it’s happening a lot, schedule yourself regular low-stimulation shutdown time

Signed: someone who moved in with their nearest and dearest only to have a massive crisis of faith about Suddenly Hating All of Them. I don’t hate them, it’s just overstimulating living with people. If I can spare anyone else a similar 9 months of suspecting that they may actually be a bit of a shit person, then this post is worth it!

[ratlombot2]

…Why I use extra spaces, colons, gaps and other stuff that MIGHT be sometimes mistaken as indicators that my stuff is created by AI.

I write and create art. I write and create art, a LOT! I enjoy it, I need it, I work hard at it, I gives me purpose, It keeps me, Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t go as far as to say “Sane” but it definitely makes me “slightly less Insane” – which is still kinda nice… And yet… . Once in a while Usually, when I'm proud of something I've created, (Both my art and my writing) Some random person will say something along the lines of, "This looks like it was created by AI" Which I suppose can be seen as either an insult or a compliment, depending on your point of view. . The reason I get accused of this is usually along the lines of, for example... "Reads like it was written by AI. A lot of unnecessary use of dashes, the bracketing, the semicolon." . Now, generally speaking, I put it down to sour grapes by someone who probably has not created anything good recently or who hates my liberal politics or my empathy-driven views. . But let's be generous for a minute, And let us briefly suppose for now that it is not just troll spit, and that it might be a genuine question. (However, VERY unlikely that may be) . So, instead of my usual sarcastic deflection, let me give you an honest answer. THIS is... ...Why I use extra spaces, colons, gaps and other stuff that MIGHT be sometimes mistaken as indicators that my stuff is created by AI. . I CAN spell, I do have an ok vocabulary. However... Put simply, I am badly dyslexic. . SO - I have real problems with my editing process. Because when I scan my text before posting, I see what I want to see, I see what I thought I wrote, INSTEAD of the errors that are actually there!! I can look as hard as I want at the word "DOSE" and still see the word I meant, "DOES". . No spell checker, ect can adequately help. BUT WHAT DOSE HELP, (see what I did there as a bit of self-deprecating humour) - Is using a load of extra spaces, colons, gaps and other stuff. . The weird formatting gives me a much higher chance of seeing errors that might otherwise disenfranchise a valid argument for civil rights and human freedoms. - Because some right-wing bigot wuss douche will point at those mistakes to ignore the real issues discussed in the text. . "Oh, you must be a thick moron! Because look at the how you misspelled 'Dissent' as 'Dessent', so your argument that gay people are real humans must also be a load of liberal crap!", - The whiny little nazi fucker cries out... . So, I work hard and try hard and fail A LOT! Then get up and keep going... . So, Yes I DO use weird formatting! - To help edit my work the best I can. And, Yes, I CAN look a bit weird at times! But it is STILL better than doing bugger all and just keeping my head down! . Now I have taken the time to write this out, I am going to just use it as a drop-in "Cut N Paste It" response for the next time someone says something. . I am being polite enough to give a non-sarcastic reply. It probably won't make a difference, Not really <shrug> Because criticism online is rarely about the person being criticised, And usually far more about the insecure, raging troll critic.

[sed-official]

i saw this post and decided that i had some time spare, i could give AI another go. (link to post https://www.tumblr.com/dibelonious/778852078032404480/now-that-ai-made-troubleshooting-ridiculously. dont harass the poor old sod obviously.)

i hear a lot of people irl at uni and some online say ai is great for coding, and so every couple months i try it out. sometimes with a very small project in a popular language (python or c, usually. though im forgiveful with c as everyone fucks up c.), sometimes with something simple (i.e. a couple lines tops with a naive approach if written idiomatically) but in a more unusual language with full documentation online. (like sed! yay!)

but every single time i come to the conclusion that even with being handheld chatgpt could not do what it was asked to do. even if someone tells it every issue in its outputs, itll remember for only one prompt. even if someone tells it the solution, itll find a new way to fuck it up.

below the cut is me trying to get chatgpt to make a working sed script that prints "meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww..." (long post warning)

(if anything reads weirdly, this was originally a reblog to the screenshotted post, then i decided to make it its own post. so that may be why.)

i cant remember the last time i ran into an issue that i couldnt fix in like ... 5 minutes. but knowing what chatgpt is like, any ask i give it will give me issues to troubleshoot. (yes this example is code, not linux proper. but its more of the same doing that.)

the other day i decided to write "meowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww....." in many different languages, after seeing @brainfuck-official do it in BF. (link to post https://www.tumblr.com/brainfuck-official/773510105608192000) as is my blog, i asked it to do this in sed.

great! this script doesnt work! it doesnt even come *close* to working, giving me plenty to try out chatgpt's troubleshooting skills! it also just doesnt make much sense. why the shebang but not making it executable? and why are the flags different (ones -f, ones -nf). also a counter? why though? thats not what im asking for? (you can see tags for a brief explanation on how to add a counter)

after telling it the script doesnt work (and why, something someone troubleshooting likely wont know) it just adds in a P. a command that prints a damn newline. but it lies about it printing a newline.

(if you dont believe it prints a trailing newline and believe the AI instead, just try echo -n foo | sed -n 'P ; P')

anyways it alternated between no print statements and printing with newlines for the next ... 8 prompts, by which time i felt sorry for the poor bugger and told it to use e to print without a newline.

all the while it was trying to be more useful and add a count - making it print my string after n repeats instead of the infinite that i asked for. it was trying to subtract 1 with effectively s/[0-9]+/&-1/ which just appends the string "-1" to a number!

anyways, i tell it to use "the e command". there are three different versions of the e command in sed, and only one of them makes sense here. which did chatgpt use? none! it used the e regex modifier! which executes your pattern hold, then turns the output into the new pattern hold. and does not print anything.

ill just screenshot the last couple interactions minus only the useless exposition it adds to every response so you can see how stupid it is

ignoring sed's requirement for an input this is equivalent to the python

to be fair i never said there shouldnt be infinite meows, and this does have infinite Ws. but come the fuck on. this is clearly not whats being asked for.

[upwiththegood]

4th February M.S.G. meeting

Here we go again, on the first Tuesday in the month and once again persons un known are trying their best to make getting to the meeting place so hard to get to.

My advice is to either try harder or bugger off into oblivion and be happy with what you done and got saddled with

We're very happy with our lot and are gradually getting there and going forward and are even getting spies from the Stroke Association checking us out.

We'll soon be back to 20 or so turning up, as 13 or 14 if you count Maisie as one turned up today and that's with the road closed in all directions and diversions all over the place and that's with a few notable absentees. So, whoever it is that's trying to scupper our regular meetings, they'll have to try harder and the pub had never been busier. A notable attendee was Ann Bowie and her daughter Linda and it was their first time at this new venue and they assured us that they'll come again, so long as it doesn't interfere with the bingo.

Kathie took control. as is her want and confirmed that that Co-ordinator from the Stroke Association, Julie Ecell have been in touch and thanked her for allowing her to spy on our group. It's a pity that she wasn't there today to see us getting back to normal. We still don't really know what she was after but can have a good guess, as she's off to the Stroke Association meeting in London Road at a social gathering later on in the month.

Kathie seemed to think that the Criterion theatre in Blue town , Sheerness wasn't our cup of tea unless we liked Elvis, which left

Brick Lane Music Hall's pantomime from 23rd January next and it's Pinnochio and his big nose

So we'll need to decide next time, who would like to go, when and whether we want the three course meal and transport requirements. Then there's next Christmas and a few were more than satisfied with lasty years venue and menu

Kathie has a bell ringing appointment in Headcorn this coming May and wondered if anyone would be interested in attending and maybe, Barry said, his next tome might be available for distribution

Who nose

No news about a Spring Break but it's still on a few minds, as is a local luncheon party and there hadn't been any news from our 9 County Councillors, who we'd approached before Christmas but an AI letter was in the designer stage before being released locally before March and before the end of the tax year.

So there you have it and we need ideas for places to go, places to visit, things to do and funds.

So please help us with ideas.

Richard visited Old Town Hastings when his youngest was down before Christmas and was very impressed with the art gallery in the fish market area, he had a bite to eat in the upstairs restaurant, accessed via a lift and admission was free for a carer, so 24 could go for the price of 12, then there's the wet fish market and the old street that was filled with amusement arcades in days of old is now a decent few cafe's, antique and bric-a-bat shops with various paintings and manners of junk

So just an idea

Ideas on the back of a postcard to Kathie for the next meeting on Tuesday 4th March

So we'll see you there or be square

Happy daze

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (721): Fri 8th Mar 2024

I remembered being cast as one of the ugly sisters in the school pantomime of Cinderella when I was at school and I wondered if you could still have ugly sisters in Cinderella based productions today or if the PC brigade would intervene and insist that you rename them the "Not Conventionally Attractive Sisters". Quite worryingly the PE teacher in charge of the costumes during that production went to the head teacher and told he he was struggling to come up with ideas for out costumes that would make us look ugly. The headteacher asked him what he found repulsive in children and he replied "pubes" and sure enough the lightning fast intense background check the headteacher performed revealed that this PE teacher shouldn't have been allowed within one hundred feet of a school much less employed by one. I used my emergency holiday to finish early so that I could go to the town for my next laser removal session. I've been coming here every six weeks for almost a year now in order to get this hideous black star removed so I can replace it with a portrait of Jim Morrison and it's still barely faded. I think it will still be at least another year until it's completely gone, unless I fall off my motorbike with my shirt off and happen to land on my upper right arm and the friction peels the image off completely. It'll be even more convenient if the scar that it leaves when it heals looks exactly like Jim Morrison because then I won't need to get the tattoo. The laser still hurt like a bitch even with the machine that blows cool air onto the area while the artist is working but at least it only lasts a minute or so. While I was there I decided to book in another tattoo session as I’ve long wanted an image of my dog Lucy dressed up as The Green Lantern etched onto me. There was a slot available next Tuesday so I booked in a session and I can not wait. Even though I was keen for 2024 to be the year that I got absolutely smothered in tattoos I think this Lucy ink will probably be my last tattoo for a while since I have a holiday to Greece with the family to pay for so It'll probably be wise to knock these on the head to start saving up the spending money. Having said that the last I heard the Greeks are pretty much flat broke so maybe if I take all my tattoo designs with me then I might be able to get them all inked on me for pennies. There was a news story about an AI robot built in Saudi Arabia that "groped" a reporter on live TV. In the footage the robot puts it's hand out and pats the reporter on the arse. Looking at this news story made me think maybe that teacher at my primary school might have been a robot. If this had happened to me I would have done an interview with the press afterwards claiming that reporter has claimed that this experience has left her unable to work, dealing with post traumatic stress disorder and unable to enjoy Robocop anymore. I imagine the robot's lawyer has claimed that the cable to charge the robot is actually in the palm of it's hand and the robot thought that the reporter's arse crease was the plug socket. Imagine if all the robots suddenly got a lust for sex with humans and started hunting us down for an orgy of robotic rape. The only way out would be for all the humans to dress up like robots and then just wait it out until the actual robots ran out of charge. This would be problematic too as the real robots would see us in our robot costumes wandering around acting normal and would wonder "why are those robots not looking for humans to bugger?" so to combat this we'd have to accompany all our movements with chants of "must…rape…humans".

[astercontrol]

Tron Jokes and Memes

(an Asterpost)

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Text

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Alan/Lora

Aster-ology

lay and relay

2.0 retro

legacy of quorra

1337

AI BJ

Real People

i'm in

nice

Deus

a Free System of governance

Kevin's digital Disneyland

Rizz

siren song

junior

Blocking and Antagonizing

RedGram BlueGram

Bit Jury

Moebin'

Journey Asterisks

Meanwhile in the Cromdo Mollari World

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Images

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Dodge

What If God

Unsolicited

Film On Location

About the Parking Tickets

Darling Clementine

Not Just Oranges

YES-diamond

SCP MLP MCP

bit icon

like father like son

Wheel of Fortran

No Tron

MCP (nails??)

Wikipe-Tron

ass backward

simp

barcode

Jokers

Ram (adorable)

same dick energy

Sark No

Subatomic Bits

Radia Mollari

Good Boy

Shipping Us

Everybody Loves

color theory

Scanner 2.0

white russians

Limerick

Zacc

Fall of Rome

Ram (gay)

Adventure

Red Triforce

Blue Triforce

Academia

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Video clips

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Program Games

Change the World

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Cookies

Getting some Stranger (and Stranger)

Solar Power

Do it Flynn

Solar Sailer Stimulation

Ticking my Boxes

Paige Loading

Tron Loading

Let Her Rip

Dude

Can't Commit

Map To The Destination

little bugger

Gibson, Report

Cult

Red Dead Guard

And After All

That Encom Booty

Disc Angel (Meta Tron)

Rider

Closer to God

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Back to the main Asterpost!

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[ultramaga]

@fans4wga  “That’s a full-time job. “ So ... not the one I was talking about. You ignored my argument, which was about the people who do very little per year, and hyper-focussed on the few who get regular work. The trouble with unions is they want the guy who does bugger all to get the pay of the top guy who earns the megabucks for their employer. And we saw that with the whining from the feminists who demanded equal pay when they couldn’t earn the same amount of profit for their employers. The claim of the strike is that AI will replace the actors because they can take a dude, pay him in exchange for his likeness, and puppet that forever more. The trouble is that the strike demands that the dude get paid forever more, despite doing very little work. In no other industry do you get paid for doing nothing.  “ The show requires them to live in Los Angeles “ So it sounds like they should do literally anything else, because the market recognises they already are utterly replaceable and doesn’t pay them much.  There’s no demand for these workers, and an unlimited supply of folks who see the apex and ignore the conditions of the multitudes below.  Those workers are choosing the low pay. They could walk away which would drive up demand - but they don’t. So they are responsible for the consequences. That means they have chosen the same path as the “starving artist” who looks down on the wage slave but doesn’t sully their own hands in the boring grind as others have to do. “ you’re siding with CEOs “ Fuck off, I say Hollywood should burn. Saying that the strike is stupid doesn’t make me automatically side with the people who degraded it to garbage like She-Hulk.  If a Leftist says anything honest, their brain explodes. So they have to present things as a binary - you are for the Leftist workers or the Leftist bosses! Nah, fuck’em both!

None of them are necessary now. They have made themselves obsolete. Attacking customers? Putting out shite like Coal Black and the Seven Completely Normal People? 

Every member of Hollywood could quit tomorrow and the world would be just fine. @ mockingburb Ahh, a totalitarian telling me I like to lick boots. No, fuck off you pinko fascist, you’re not my type. Isn’t there a schoolboy around you’d prefer to molest? “ I work 60 hrs/week, and that’s considered a low amount of work among my peers. Most of my crew coworkers work 70-90 hrs/week and still struggle to make ends meet. “ Ok. Let’s say a buggy whip maker made a thousand buggy whips, and couldn’t sell one. They make nothing. They cry, they scream, but people just don’t pay for their buggy whips.

They could go on strike and maybe paint it as some sort of oppression that they aren’t being paid as much as some successful jeweler, or ... they could move on. Do literally anything else. Because the market doesn’t value you. Your skills are not important. Prove me wrong. Write up your resume, and find a better employer. But your kind never do. You are in the same boat as the shelf stacker - but you don’t see yourself as being like them. You think you are working class, when you are surrounded by people grinding out their lives at boring or dangerous jobs. You think you are better than them, that you don’t have to play by the rules they do.

And when the ordinary folk lost their jobs to automation, what was it the Leftists taunted them with? “Learn to Code”. So, maybe you should take your own fucking advice. Oh wait - coding is being automated too. Outdated occupations that have bitten the dust

Leftists: We only work a few hours per year and its not enough to live off! Strike! Strike! Strike!

Everyone else: Why would you expect your casual gig to pay so much ?

Leftists: HOW DARE YOU EXPECT WE SWEAT LIKE YOU, PEASANTS!