at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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When Al Haitham dreams, it's in shades of sandy blonde and red, metallic gold and feather-blue. His nightmares are colored much the same.
Kaveh leisurely strolls ahead of him, shoes leaving deep treads in the soft desert sand. He keeps a careful distance, arms length, and in return Al Haitham keeps an eye on him, the other man's back dead center in his sights.
He curses the sand in his boots and the long line of footprints he steps into, already the exact shape of the soles of his shoes.
They aren't lost. Al Haitham knows where they are. They've been here before. They are still here.
Kaveh doesn't watch their feet. His head is constantly tipped back with his eyes on the stars and their constellations (of which Al Haitham only knows two, Vultur Volans and Paradisaea). He'll walk right into a cactus like that. Al Haitham yells ahead for him to watch where he's going.
Kaveh reaches up to touch the side of his head in a strange motion, but otherwise there's no acknowledgement. They press on into the dark of night.
Something squelches beneath Al Haitham's boot.
It stops him short, pulls his attention like a magnet and as much as he wants to, he can't ignore it. He doesn't want to lose any more ground. But something won't let him move on. Al Haitham watches as red seeps into the golden sand, spills beyond the border of his bootprint until he slides his foot aside.
It's an ear.
It's a human ear, and there's a heavy earring attached, metallic gold, gems red and green, a familiar shape, a familiar shade-
Al Haitham opens his mouth to yell. Chokes. Swallows the lump in his throat as he quickly restarts his pace. Tries again.
"Hey!"
Another squelch under a hurried footstep. He doesn't stop to look. Al Haitham is pretty sure he knows what it is.
"Kaveh, hey!"
The path becomes littered, little slices and small pieces, fingertips and knuckles, Kaveh's arms once held casually behind his back now strewn along the sands. Every time Al Haitham extends his hand to him, reality warps and bends like the twisted image in a broken mirror, lines mismatched and edges jagged. Kaveh flits just beyond his grasp, fleeting fae, no longer able to hear him or to reach out to him. Al Haitham can only grit his teeth and follow.
His right foot marches forward. His left follows. His right again. His left suddenly doesn't follow, and Al Haitham is thrown off balance and pitches forward, swinging his arms outward to land on his palms and keep his face off the ground, because he's been in the desert enough times to know what a foot suddenly being stuck can mean.
Quicksand.
Al Haitham curses and swears in just about every language he knows as he tries to spread his weight as evenly as possible, stay afloat at the top of it because if he sinks, he knows he'll be done for, and shit, Kaveh.
His neck cranes uncomfortably in his search, Kaveh had only been a few feet in front of him, he can't be sunk much further, and he's in the desert much more often than Al Haitham anyway, he'll be familiar with what to do-
Kaveh stands in front of him, empty sleeves fluttering loose. Still just out of his grasp, still watching the stars. The quicksand is already up to his calves.
"Say, Al Haitham..." It's the first he's spoken this whole time. His voice resonates somewhere deeply nostalgic in Al Haitham's chest, produces a ripple that momentarily stuns his heart.
Kaveh is sinking.
Al Haitham stretches out on his belly as far as he's able, it's quickly up to his knees, Kaveh isn't even trying to redistribute his weight or pull himself out, it's at his thighs, Al Haitham sucks in a breath and yells for him, his hips, yells louder, his waist, Al Haitham's trembling fingertips can almost reach, his chest, Kaveh drops level with him, quicksand about his neck like a noose.
Kaveh's head tips back, back, impossibly far back, until it hangs, angle awkward, and he's looking right past Al Haitham with his tired smile and gouged, blinded sockets full of starlight.
"Do you believe in karma?"
The quicksand swallows him entirely and Al Haitham dives, shoves his arms deep and pushes off with the one foot he'd had left on safe ground, because he can't, he can't, it's not the same without Kaveh, not anymore, he needs him, no one else keeps him sharp, no one else challenges him like Kaveh, if he can just grab him, if he can just pull him back up-
Al Haitham thrashes, against the sands, against gravity, against the hardwood of his bedroom floor. Clumsily scrubs the back of his hand across his face to rub the grit of quicksand and sleep out of his eyes.
Sometimes he thinks he preferred it when the Akasha was still harvesting his dreams.
He pops his head out from under his weighted blanket and lays where he'd fallen out of bed for a moment, blinking blearily against the lamplight shining from his desk in the corner. Deep breaths. His consciousness shifts along the blurred line of nightmare and reality, crosses over the slow transition into wakeful awareness.
He's home, Kaveh is home. It's dark out. The house is dead silent.
He's just going to go check, he tells himself as he peels himself out of his sweat-soaked shirt and roots around for a replacement. He's already losing memories of his nightmare, the details spilling away from him like wet ink, but he knows he needs to see Kaveh. It'll feel better to do something, anything, than try to go straight back to sleep.
He's quiet when he slips out of his bedroom door, because they both keep late hours but their bedrooms are right next to each other, and Al Haitham will never hear the end of it if he wakes his roommate up.
Lights off, door shut. Nothing conclusive. He moves out to the main room.
Kaveh sits on one of those ridiculous sofas he'd ordered three of for some reason, back to him as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. A mostly-empty wine bottle stands tall on the table, next to the cobbled-together remains of an architectural model that's been picked and fussed over for four days straight now.
"Kaveh? What are you doing?"
This earns him an exaggerated startle, but Kaveh doesn't turn to look at him, preoccupied with whatever new sketch or blueprint he probably has in his hands. "Ohhh, nothing," he slurs cheerfully. "Just working. Just thinking."
Kaveh has always been the world's chattiest drinker. Al Haitham waits for the rest of it.
"Say, I think...I think I asked you this years ago, back then, but you never answered me." Al Haitham feels all the blood drain from his face in ominous familiarity, drip cold down the length of his spine. Kaveh sinks into the couch until he can tip his head over the back of it, looking up at him with a tired smile and exhausted eyes.
"Do you believe in karma?"
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I'm bi and yeah your note on women not having solidarity seems sadly true. Apart from not dating men would there be anything you would suggest to improve ones life apart from stating away from those women if possible?
I love this question because this is how to start thinking: being practical.
What it takes to "improve ones life" is subjective so with that said firstly define what a better life(style) for yourself away from moids would look like. Temporarily mentally remove xy terrorist existence. What would your habits/routine be? What would you work towards & pour your energy into? What would you want to be? What would you center your life around? Take your time with these questions or anymore that come up. Have a general idea then be more specific and start breaking your life down into sectors/sections/areas, then look at where you want to be in those areas and work towards it.
For example; I divide my life into 6-7 aspects:
Physical Strength - Not just about muscle but knowing how to fight, where to hit and when to fight. Being stronger makes it easier to defend yourself in altercations (especially with other women). Some mfs will try you & you cant always rely on others coming to your rescue. Also work on building stamina to help endurance, and keeping as healthy as possible.
Emotional Strength - If you cant control your emotions they will control you. In a world of chaos being emotionally strong will let you cut through the noise and focus on what truly matters. Building emotional strength is not easy but it's worth it. Being able to rise above immediate reactions and pace yourself will allow you to assess situations more rationally & make more beneficial choices.
Finances - Get your bag up. Having money to gain resources is imperative to quality of life. I dont care what anyone says having a certain amount of money in life WILL make you happier as you're able to meet your needs better. Having more money/resources also makes it easier to support other women should you choose to do so, it also allows you to be more influential and have more control over your life. However, dont become a slave to getting money tho because that's how you get scammed.
Network - The type of people you hang around can make or break who you are as a person. Aim to connect with likeminded women who will encourage & inspire you as you go on this journey. Hang around people that value & will be honest with you while giving you grace. Not all women you engage with have to be single & childfree but beware the moid crazy ones because they will bring danger to you in their quest for maIe validation. Life isn't perfect but you cant go wrong having the right people around you, valuable relationships are hard to find but it goes a long way even if it's just online. However, no company > bad company.
Spirituality/Guide - Having something bigger than yourself to guide you through the chaos in this world can offer guidance/purpose that keeps you grounded & focused. For many people generally this is religion/god. Not everyone needs or ascribes to religion/spirituality though, but at least consider sets of morals/beliefs to follow. However even that isn't for everyone. So if you feel better off without spirituality or a 'higher' guide at least be clear on it & your reasons why (for yourself).
Hobbies & Interests - As turbulent as the world is, find things to enjoy amidst the chaos. Constant work, doom, and gloom will not change anything you will only hurt yourself. Take time to indulge in things that make you happy to recharge & relax. Engage in hobbies that serve you, share your passion with other women & hear theirs out too. It goes a long way in terms of mental health.
Security - It takes privilege to decide to not get married or have children as a woman & live it out. Everyone's situation is different so what I'll generally suggest is to constantly look into how you can protect yourself, have backup methods, and stay in the loop of xy predation. Dont drown in it but moids are predators & being completely blind to them is being blind to danger. Elaborated on point 10 here.
Sounds like a lot? Great, it'll keep you busy because this isn't a vacation or destination but a lifestyle. And to be honest, some of y'all can do with the busyness as it'll let you focus on what actually matters. This not to say to overwhelm yourself in things for the sake of it but to prioritise your energy on effective things for your life. As you focus on building you'll find that you have less energy to care about insignificant stuff or stuff out of your control anyways. For example, Instead of getting wound up about user somerandomadjectivefem stirring discourse calling you an extremist or whining about how impossible it is for her & other women to live without romantic love n' whatnot (or even women irl pulling this crap), you either ignore or quickly shut down the conversation & swiftly move on.
Everything I've mentioned are just examples, you may feel differently do whatever you feel best applies. Also remember to enjoy the process along the way as you are living through it afterall :3
Long story short: Work on building resources & other aspects of your life up for yourself.
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Simon's joke of "soup of theseus" is so damn good & way more layered than most people think.
Okay so first- what is the ship of Theseus?
So amongst his many misadventures and legends the ship of theseus was a ship the Athenians believed connected them to the divine living person that was Theseus. The thing is, he was maybe Poseidon's adopted kid/the King if Athen's son and probably not real (or at least if he did his misadventures were super exaggerated as royals = divity stories are) but the fate the Athenians had for him & Apollo (the 6 labors is a fun legend that explains their connection and what the original ship may have been) was so intense, they would constantly give maintence as a form of religious worship to said ship on the island of Delos (where Apollo's most sacred sancutary is) every year it would dock to pay respects.
Btw we don't need to know the specifics of Theseus but he did infamously slay a minotar and Finn did have a good exchange with the Mannish Man to get the enchiridion aka the book that sets Betty & Simon on the paths they are on now so that's neat af
So if you've ever heard about the ship of Theseus being paradox- it comes from the critique that's always existed about that ship's maintenance & religious practices tldr if you are constantly replacing each rotted and borken part of a ship, is it still the same ship?
The soup is a paradox like the ship
That paradox exists in many many scifi and adventure stories like the Nier series & Ghost in the Shell but in this instance we got to first look at the joke literally. Farm world's Finn's wife's soup is the same as the ship. The original soup farm world HW made no longer exists on a technicality, but the way Finn and his kids continue to add on and consume the soup is exactly like the Athenians. It's about the intent of carrying on the memory and keeping the soup around to honor the dead rather than the soup's original recipe {which also is incredibly sad & imples that farmworld Finn is both coping and never learned the original soup recipe}. It's a beautiful way to honor their dead mom/wife and it makes you wonder if that Finn did die if his kids will continue the practice.
But the paradox goes beyond the soup & into our reality
A lot of people have noticed that Fionna's last name is Campbell and Campbells is a real soup brand that would've been around before the great mushroom war. When Marceline gets sick as a kid, Simon goes great lenghts to get her chicken soup- that only worked out because the primordial version of the Mother Gum assisting {which is extreme Bubbeline foreshadowing}. And in that scene the can low key is a campbell design. But what if I told you there's more?
In Cheers, the tv show Simon is seen constantly watching and referencing throughout the original run of Adventure Time & in the recent Fionna and Cake had Carla Tortelli work at a Canpbell's Factory.
Neat references aside the soup ends the moment the main trio hit the remote button and I have a BA in psychology & interest in childrens media and entertainment that I want to milk for once. Metaphorical intention is beyond relevant episode specifics but actually the foundation of Fionna and Cake when it comes to the paradox.
Simon making the soup of Theseus joke is the main problem Fionna and Cake has to address
If Simon can summon his & Prismo's au from his head without proper MMS (Magic, Madness, and Sadness) where does Simon the human start and Ice King end?
As viewers who grew up alongside the series, the majority of 25+ watchers are finding Simon, older Finn, and Fionna painfully relatable because good fucking god we are all traumatized because of the ongoing pandemic.
If you want to focus on the main topic you can skip this part. But if you want to get very serious for a minute, please stay. The majority of people wont to accept what I just said about the pandemic being ongoing because global governments pretending the pandemic is over, the rise of depression and escapism in real time at a social level at a global level but especially in the US where the series is being made, and the daily interactions we have with most people refusing to mask up {with a violent reaction} when there still isn't a cure for COVID has created the perfect enviroment for most people to not accept change or crave extreme change. Fionna and Cake tackles these 2 very common forms of how depression tends to manifest when it's not fully manic to be displayed through Simon (self isolation from poor coping due to loss, detachment from society, dwelling on the past to the point it effects social interactions, extreme forms of religious practice, etc.) and Fionna/Finn (pretending everything is fine, avoidance, going through the bare minimum motions to survive, escapsim and dream of grandure, not caring about sel preservation, no/lack of self control with sweets/coffee, etc.). And I've noted there's a subset of AT viewers who don't relate or find the depections too real to the point they're upset the show's tone isn't as light hearted as AT. The thing is when a global disabling event happens, unless you were under 10 when it happened and even then it's a 50/50 because you probably did lose or know somebody who did die these last several years, you will have some kind of trauma response to it whether you like it or not. Hell, some of you unknowlingly have a gap in your memory about 2020 specifically due to inconsistent sleep schedules that have nothing to do with the shrinking of the brain mass COVID causes that we all call "brain fog" and now that I pointed it out you're probably going to go stare at a wall for 5 mins {sorry btw, doubly if you have long COVID and this is how you found out what brain fog partially is}. As someone who's been dealing with depression since I was a child, it's okay to be not okay given the last several years and doubly if you've been conscious long enough to see the US freefall into fascism too {which I hope encourages those who weren't aware that's been happening to go look into that because we can't get into it right now}. Because I unfortunately know what manic depression can look like - if you find yourself relating to Simon a little too much during ep 3, please talk to somebody who is licensed and trained to do so {not me, I haven't done suicide prevention work since 2017 and am not licensed- I genuienly won't be enough of a resource} okay? Don't throw away yourself nor change yourself for others only. You need to work to accept the past, move on to live in the present, and change yourself for yourself. It won't be easy and resources are out there to not do it alone, alright?
Becuase of how paradoxial and fluid mental health (espeically undiagnosed depression) can be and how AT has it's own version with MMS, could Simon have unconscious MMS still because of Betty's with without a battery but can't tap into it because of his mental state? And could Ice King as we once knew him even be considered a proper person Simon could return too?
The original wish of why Ice King's appearance & abilities is the way it is IS because of Evergreen's impression on Gunter {Evergreen was one of the ice elementals of the past btw- go watch the original Adventure Time for that context}. So Ice King isn't even an original character, just the crown building off the wishes and manifestations of each bearer by emulating a warped version of Evergreen. And that's the main reason why I speculate Ice Thing aka Gunter the Penguin is chill af to the point he got married and can exist with less gems. His wish didn't build off of power to protect Marceline (Simon) nor the power to copy Evergreen (Original Gunter).
As the main trio jump from connected universe to connected universe, more Simons and crowns will appear that are even more removed from our Ooo's crown and it's version of Ice King or Ice Prince or Winter King will only manifest because of the prior and current wishes made. So if Simon does get a crown that isn't the Ooo crown, will the Ice King that once existed even be THE Ice King he wants to be? And will Simon want to be Ice King or an Ice King when the trio do return to his Ooo?
The crown and it's many versions is a paradox that can only be resolved if Simon and Fionna can work together but also set aside their depression to address what they both really want and what that wish's intention will do to themselves and those around them. In short, shit's deep
I applaud the team for Fionna and Cake for tackling such a layered problem and I'm excited to see how Simon's soup of emotions, Fionna's growth, & magic crown of Theseus is addressed.
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