Jashtober Day 7: Moss

Ok, so we can all agree this is the finally ship of theseus, right?

The song actually ended in a way a song would end, the description thanks all the artists, and of course the ship has been completely replaced. From the sails, to the face decoration in the front, and even the sky and ocean aren't the ones from the first artwork.

My guess will be he'll combine them into one very long song tomorrow. Maybe not, but that's what I think.

Update, he made a blog. He's fallen in too deep now. No going back @darrelnumber1fanboy

I got one of my friends to match with me in Discord. Him as mind and me as heart, and I've never been happier

Damn everyone forcing me to reblog today /j

PJSEKAI Saki but HEART???????

OG under cut

Ooh! I wanna poke Mind!

The game continues! Here's your result:

Uh oh, we've got our first true low roll - and it's a bit spooky for today's occasion 🎃

Jashtober day 11: 8-bit

There's nothing quite like a dusty old console. The substantial feeling you get when putting a cartridge into the slot. The whirring that emanates from the system as you wait for it to boot up. Even when never experiencing one in childhood, it feels like a nostalgia machine. I get a giddy feeling when I sit down with a stack of these old games with me. All these possibilities. In many ways, modern innovations have brought much fluff. These games didn’t have such luxury. They had to be tight and straight forward. In many ways they feel like the past itself. It makes sense. The world was simpler and easier to navigate. Well that’s how it feels anyway, but I know that’s not true. As much as I want it to be true, that the world was less complex and more composed, it simply isn't. Have you ever tried to play the first Zelda or Metroid without a map or guide through. It's nigh impossible. The world’s intricacies and confusions have always been the only constant. Perhaps that’s for the best. At least the world isn’t getting worse, just different. Maybe even better.

And yet I don't get one 😔 /j

I guess this is a thing now as my friend asked for one too

wow more writing practice this time about my dislike for AI

One thing I’ve had to grapple with during this surgence of AI is that not everyone wants to be an artist or creative. I’ve always just assumed people take other jobs to sustain themselves, but truly many if not most people don’t want to do something creative with their life or leave any sort of lasting impact. Most people just want to enjoy life to the fullest or at the very least just survive. My understanding as art being the ultimate dream is my own experiences clouding my judgment. Despite this art still defines our culture an insane amount along with being a representation of the times. As silly as it is to say stuff like “Seinfeld” reveals us a look into 90s culture just as a more seriously taken art piece like the “Merchant of Venice” can give us a look into the late 1500’s/early 1600’s. Most importantly to me it’s an expression and a look into a part of the human experience. AI is more or less a pattern machine. It takes what it's been fed and finds patterns to make something ““new””. There is no motivation behind what it’s doing. No need to scratch a creative itch or want to share and express one's life. It does what it does because it was told to. With this realization it not only delegitimizes the point of art but also shows that in the end these soul crushing recent events comes not from the AI but still the greed of the richest amongst us (I swear to god if I get one comment about that stupid game)  and the misunderstanding of art by business people. Even if AI art was just as good as a lot of human art, it is not, it still betrays the very core of what art is. Despite what the CEOs of the biggest media companies may think, art is not just entertainment but an important part of the human condition. Of course for the many creatives in every corner of the world but also for everyone in between. More than likely you’ve seen a piece of art that's connected with you. It’s shown a part of you or your experiences that you may have not been able to explain or maybe it’s made you feel for someone in the story evil or good, personal or universal. Isn't that kind of amazing. That us humans’ empathy sense is so strong that even to a character we know isn’t real we can still have an emotional reaction as big as crying or laughing or tensing up or whatever. AI has none of this. It is not a being capable of emotion, free will, or expression. We can not allow these old greed bags to take more from us than they already have. We can not have tech bros decide our culture. We can not have the representation of our culture be made by an emotionless, moralless, and uncreative being incapable of moving things forward. Only by taking the old and rehashing just enough to seem distinct enough. Some may say that humans themselves have no originality but I disagree with our distinct ways of taking old formats and archetypes, then mixing, adapting, and changing the very foundation of the original work. We are not a pattern machine but a remixing artists that take many different ideas and motifs, add a bit of our own likes and experiences and make something wholly distinct from its inspirations. Don't let any billionaire tech bro tell you differently.

What makes this extra funny is that I'm pretty sure it's said or at least impied that mind doesn't flinch when he was shot at. This meaning mind had a shotgun barely miss him and he just stood there and just looked at heart like "you done?".

Heart with a pistol is LAME. Give that man a shotgun

You will not use AI to get ideas for your story. You will lie on the floor and have wretched visions like god intended

Jashtober day 7: Moss

 I look upon this world and I see beauty. It is finite and it is easily defiled, but it is beautiful. A set of random events caused one single-celled organism to evolve and split into a system of complex webs and ecosystems. Each animal, plant, and bacteria rely on each other to prevent their lives from falling into entropy. I was formed from the cosmos. Perhaps from a dying star or a collapsing blackhole. Maybe even the big bang. Whatever it was has long ago left my memory. I’ve seen every dwarf planet and neutron star, but this– this is amazing. I learn of the humans’ fascination with space and find myself confused. They talk about space's vastness compared to the earth’s tiny nature in the grand scheme. I reply: the desert is large and the oasis small, but that doesn’t make the oasis any less brilliant. The simple and elegant greens and blues that twist and entwine. The water and greenery bring life to everything around it and in return the animals bring their own life to sustain the greenery . Much more interesting than the grains of sand we call the universe. As strange as the humans’ ideas may be, I can not help but find peace and familiarity within the little creatures. They’re like microcosms of myself. Loving and hateful. Hopeful and nihilistic. Elated and bored. A being of gorgeous inspiration and disgusting shame. They see the same love in nature as I do. Well, some of them do. They might even be better than myself. They've created things I wish I could claim to be of my hands. Noises into music, shapes into art, and symbols into writing. I’ve collected as much of it into myself as I can and it’s wonderful. To be human is to be everything that is the oasis, right on the cusp of finding the mysteries in the desert. I suppose I would be those mysteries. I hope they never find me or any other of those mysteries. I am not grand, not as grand as the moss that grows on the trees. Not as grand as the fungi sprouting from the dew. Not as grand as flowers that sprout despite a prison of concrete. Not as grand as mammals that manage in the water. Not as grand horrors that creak in the darkness. Not as grand as the animals that once ruled, forever entrapped in rock. Not as grand as burrows that keep warm during the cold months. Not as grand as the web perfectly crafted by a spider. Not as grand as each painting, ballad, and sonnet I intake. Not as grand as this oasis. Perhaps I shall learn from the humans and start a journal. First entry: legend of the moss.