Baubles #4
I’ve let these build up too long, so they’re going to come hard and fast.
Interplanetary romance
Perhaps “assclown” is a bit strong, but…
A furry indie game dev and naughty artist neatly captures the soul-sucking nature of AI.
I don’t think anyone is obligated to do anything in particular. If you don’t want to draw, or write, or compose, or program, or whatever, then don’t! That’s fine.
But I think the core of what pisses me off is that selling this magic machine requires selling the idea that doing things is worthless. Because if doing something has some value, then it must be somehow better than pushing a button and receiving Whatever for essentially no cost. If you’re some assclown like Sam Altman, whose graph-go-up depends on convincing you to replace all your employees with ChatGPT, you have to destroy that idea. It is the greatest threat to your business model. You have to destroy the idea that things are worth doing.
I’m making a Whist game
My latest Victorian-era distraction is Whist, the most popular of the card games played in the era.
I got a hankering to not only play, but do a little virtual world-building by dusting off the old LSL and creating my own playable version inside Second Life. It’s fully playable now but I’m still working on making it pretty enough to be a sellable thing. I may throw some kind of in-world event around the launch (a tournament? an in-character dinner of lords, ladies and demons? TBD). If you’re into that kind of thing, find and join the group “The Emmeverse”.
I bet you can guess what a “fatberg” is
In my latest chapter (spoilers!) we take a trip underneath London’s surface. My research for it took me to the article below, which I would consider a dereliction of duty if I did not share.
The walls were strewn with what looked like toilet paper but was actually decomposing wet wipes. One of the major offenders that cause blockages. Like prayer flags in the Himalayas, they hung from anything they caught hold of. I gave up with the pictures for a while, waiting for my cameras to acclimatise to the warm, sticky atmosphere. I looked around to see fungi growing on the top of the waist-deep excrement. Worms slithering on the surface too. Upon closer inspection, tampon applicators, sweet wrappers, drinks cartons, plastic bags, pens and sanitary towels. Later, Tim collected more unsavoury items on his spade, a hypodermic needle, a light bulb and some condoms.
Welcome to Hell, Victorian-style
Thankfully my chapter features nothing so putrid. You are welcome.
What technology did Victorian spies and pornographers have in common?
From the Public Domain Review:
With the enormous popularity of Stanhopes, and the increased number of manufacturers, it was possible to buy microscopic photographs in almost any item. These included watch keys, bracelet charms, brooches, needle cases, manicure sets, letter openers, pipes, rings, crucifixes, pocketknives, rattles, and even, in one reported case, a bullet. The images showed the typically popular subjects of the era — important landmark buildings, for example, or portraits of family and royalty. But a microscopic image hidden in a personal item, known only to its owner, naturally lent itself to one other subject, a subject that the photo journals of the day described as “indecent”, “lewd”, or “objectionable”. In a perfect match of format and subject, some Stanhopes also contained tiny nude images and depictions of sex.
Here’s a lewd picture they hid in a little gold pig that hung from a charm bracelet, only viewable if you knew to hold the pig’s butt really close to your eyeball.
If only it were that easy
From Reddit
Stop reading fairy smut. When you read fairy smut you are literally summoning demons that will harvest your life force energy. In order to combat the rising tide of this fairy smut, I wrote a spiritual spiritual antidote…
Is this guy so close to the truth that Nin Zarni and the Ministry of Lies need to silence him, or is his book itself the work of the Ministry, leading seekers away from dangerous truths? We report, you decide.
And finally, owls in towels
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