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webandappdevelopmentscompany · 11 days

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How to Develop an Engaging Slot Machine Game with HTML5 in 2024

The allure of slot machines is undeniable. The captivating gameplay and the potential for big wins have cemented their place as a favorite in the virtual gaming world. But technology marches on, and with it comes the ability to craft even more intricate and thrilling games. This comprehensive guide empowers you to leverage the power of HTML5 slot machine source code, taking you on a journey from initial planning to final implementation of an engaging slot machine experience for 2024.

Planning and Design

Concept Development

First and foremost, having a strong concept is crucial. Choose the design and theme for your slot machine game. Classic fruit machine themes and daring treasure expeditions are only two examples of themes. Examine current market trends to see what participants are requesting. Consider surveying potential players or analyzing popular games for inspiration.

Game Mechanics

The next thing you need to know is how slot machines work. Symbols, paylines, and reels are the standard components of slot machines. Choose the number of paylines and reels your game will feature. Define the symbols and their values. Develop the game rules and payout structures. This is an important step because it sets the player engagement and complexity of the game.

Prototyping and Wireframing

Make your first sketches and prototypes after you have a clear vision. Employ software like as Adobe XD or Figma to create the layout for your game. By visualizing the user interface (UI) and user experience (UX), prototyping contributes to the smooth and entertaining gameplay of the game. Wireframes are like a workflow map for your development work.

Setting Up the Development Environment

Required Tools and Technologies

You must become familiar with HTML5, CSS3, and JavaScript in order to create a slot machine game using HTML5. Moreover, take into account utilizing tools for game production like Phaser.js, which streamlines the procedure. To develop and maintain code effectively, use an Integrated Development Environment (IDE) like Visual Studio Code.

Setting Up a Project Structure

Organize your project files and directories logically. This organization will make your development process smoother and more manageable. Configure build tools and version control systems like Git to track changes and collaborate effectively.

Creating the Game's Core Components

Designing the User Interface

Players will notice the user interface first, so make sure it looks good. Make eye-catching graphics and animations that go well with your game's idea. Make sure your design is responsive to guarantee that it works well on a variety of devices, such as desktop computers and smartphones.

Implementing Game Logic

Now, it's time to bring your game to life with code. Start by coding the spin mechanics and random number generation. This step involves using algorithms to ensure fairness and unpredictability. Manage the game state, tracking the player's actions and updating the UI accordingly. JavaScript will be your primary tool for implementing these functionalities.

Adding Audio and Visual Effects

To enhance the player experience, integrate sound effects and background music. Use audio libraries or HTML5's built-in audio capabilities to add these elements. To make the game more lively and captivating, include transitions and animations as well. These audio and visual signals are crucial to keeping players engaged.

Enhancing Game Engagement

Including Bonus Elements To spice up your slot machine game, add extra elements like free spins, wild and scatter symbols, and bonus rounds. These components increase the excitement and provide players with more chances to win. Carefully design these elements to balance gameplay and maintain player interest.

Implementing Reward Systems

Incentives are essential for keeping players interested. Include daily awards, achievements, and leaderboards to entice players to come back to your game. In-game purchases and virtual money can both increase player engagement and open up new business opportunities. Make sure these mechanisms are equitable and improve the overall gaming experience without being overbearing.

Testing and Debugging

Testing Strategies

Before launching your game, thorough testing is crucial. Perform unit testing to ensure individual components work correctly. Conduct integration testing to verify that different parts of the game interact seamlessly. Lastly, mimic real-world usage by running end-to-end tests. This procedure can be streamlined by using automated testing tools like Mocha or Jasmine.

Debugging Methods

Development will inevitably involve debugging. UI bugs, performance snags, and logical flaws are common problems in game development. To examine and troubleshoot your code, use the browser developer tools. Set breakpoints, watch variables, and analyze performance to identify and fix issues. A well-tested and debugged game will provide a smooth and enjoyable player experience.

Deployment and Maintenance

Getting Ready for the Rollout

Ensuring that your game runs smoothly and loads quickly is essential to user pleasure. Reduce file sizes, employ lazy loading strategies, and reduce picture sizes. Ensure your game is compatible with all major browsers to reach a wide audience.

Hosting and Distribution

To host your game, install a web server on a dependable hosting platform. In order to speed up load times for players worldwide, think about implementing a content delivery network (CDN). To draw players, advertise your game online, in gaming forums, and on social media.

Continuous Upkeep

After your game launches, regular upkeep is crucial. To keep players interested, provide new features and material to your game on a regular basis. Track user input and performance to find areas that need work. Address bugs and issues promptly to maintain a positive player experience.

Conclusion

In conclusion, crafting an engaging HTML5 casino game source code in 2024 demands meticulous planning, design, and execution. Every step, from initial concept to final implementation, plays a vital role in a game's success. Incorporating additional features, crafting compelling reward structures, and rigorous testing are all crucial for captivating players. The fiercely competitive game industry necessitates staying abreast of technological advancements and continuously generating fresh ideas to maintain a competitive edge. By mastering these aspects, you can develop HTML5 casino games source code that not only entertains but thrives in today's dynamic market.

#html5 slot machine source code #html5 casino games source code #slot machine source code

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nelsonseo567 · 1 year

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Fully Customizable PHP Slot Machine Script For Your Online Gambling Site - AIS Technolabs

AIS Technolabs has a skilled team of developers who excels in the development of Slot Game Software. Using PHP Slot Machine Script with an excellent Slot Machine Source Code that makes the entire gamut of gaming features easily accessible to players. Get in Touch Today!

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gleenlaura · 2 years

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AIS Technolabs has a skilled team of developers who excel in the development of slot machine php script. Using PHP Script with an excellent Slot Machine Source Code that makes the entire gamut of gaming features easily accessible to players. Get in Touch Today!

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starseo49 · 1 year

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Slot machine game development is nothing but a kind of specialized software development. To get slot machine game source code done for your e-gaming needs has now become so easy.

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finestwebdevelopment · 1 year

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Fully Customizable JavaScript Slot Machine Code for Your Online Gambling Site

Do you need readymade Javascript slot machine code for online gambling? Our java slot machine source code is customizable and delivers an entertaining gaming experience. Get a free quote!

Visit For More Info : https://www.aistechnolabs.com/javascript-slot-machine-code/

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ranticore · 3 months

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Chapter 1 - Seven Years

[Forward by the author]

The protagonist of our story was born like this:

At an engineering facility on a planet called Ceti, a Human named Dan Loris worked for an entity called Atom GeneWEAVE. He* was tasked with writing the genetic code of a variety of engineered humans and he composed them with the skill of a master musician, for a very particular brief. The first six attempts were not viable and his computer** simulations didn’t predict a favourable outcome for them. The seventh attempt, however, would work. He implanted this genetic code in a Human egg and fertilised it in an incubation chamber, and it began to grow.

Outside his facility, under the unknowable sky of mysterious Ceti, there was a great ship called The Lonely Sailor. This ship was larger than you could ever imagine, large enough to hold thousands of Humans and the requisite cargo to let them live on a new world long enough for them to become self-sustaining there. Measurements on record state that The Lonely Sailor was more than a kilometre long.

The Lonely Sailor was owned by Atom GeneWEAVE and would carry a cargo container full of fertilised Human eggs to the new world. These were known as embryos and were mostly held in a frozen state, but there were twenty of them which were not frozen. They were placed in false amniotic sacs and allowed to continue growing throughout the entire voyage of The Lonely Sailor, even though the adult Humans themselves would be frozen instead.

Dan Loris slotted his first viable attempt at life into the cargo hold last, knowing that it would be the first to wake. He used a computer machine called a Deep Dreamer to monitor the growing life, and encoded within it an operation called ‘Athletic_Boy_Childhood_03.deepdr‘. He wrote on the amniotic sac the name of his creation: Ishmael© property of ATOM GENEWEAVE®.

Dan Loris then settled himself into a sleeping chamber which would freeze him harmlessly for the duration of the voyage.

The journey from Ceti to Siren would take seven years. Ishmael grew from fertilised egg to embryo and then became a baby in the normal period of time that these things take. But he was not born then. He remained asleep, dreaming that he was living a Human childhood.

We can only guess at what he dreamed of, as the memory encoded into him was designed to fade, leaving behind only the lessons that Atom felt were necessary for him to learn, to function normally and not emerge from the seven year journey in a feral state. He learned how to speak, how to read and write, all without ever having taken a single breath. When he was old enough, he moved his body as though he were engaging in games of chase and team sports, and this allowed his muscles to develop.

Atom was as a deity to the Humans sleeping in The Lonely Sailor – Atom decided that they were going to Siren and they were not able to refuse. Throughout every source I could find, I never came across one that described what Atom was at its heart, only that it was unimaginably powerful and had bases on several planets.

Atom was so omnipresent, so all-encompassing, that no one thought to explain it, or question it, or even remark on its presence particularly often. The Humans worked for Atom. Ishmael and his cohort of engineered embryos were born to work for Atom. Working for Atom, it seemed, was the only reason for anybody to live in Precursor society, and they were utterly shackled to its side whether they liked it or not.

Atom chose Siren for three reasons: the atmosphere had the right sort of air and had grown its own plantlife; there used to be very extensive ice caps around North; and a rival entity known as The Authorities could not interfere with Atom on Siren. The writings of Dan Loris state several times that Atom held The Authorities in contempt, but they were the only force powerful enough to punish Atom for poor behaviour. Genetic engineering such that had been planned by Atom was not permitted by The Authorities, and Atom GeneWEAVE, the part of Atom responsible for it, wanted to work with projects which would be profitable in spite of their illegality in the eyes of The Authorities.

Despite the unclear nature of Atom and The Authorities, I believe this is a story which has been repeated time and time again throughout the centuries. Whom among us has never found a secret corner to hide our trespasses? This was a game of chase, and the only thing that motivated Atom, the thing which caused it to sink a considerable amount of resources on The Lonely Sailor, was the pursuit of profit on a scale so grand that the modern Sirenian can hardly comprehend it. And, in the face of this monumental scale of profit, it was hoped that the Authorities would be rendered ultimately powerless.

The Lonely Sailor arrived on Siren on the date ‘20/07/2378’, which I am sure was significant to the Precursors. For the sake of legibility I will refer to this year as Year 1, the first year of Humans on Siren. The Sailor found pleasant weather, low winds and a water level slightly raised from the baseline in West, where the settlement began. While this was noted by the meteorologists aboard The Sailor, they weren’t to know its significance, which any one of us will recognise immediately; West was recovering from a High Tide which must have taken place only months before.

The captain of the ship was a Human called Ivana. She* was the highest authority under Atom itself on the ship, and the first to wake from her frozen sleep. She gazed down at Siren from above and wrote her observations, which I can reproduce here following extensive translation work:

Beautiful morning on Siren. What I wouldn’t give to show Dad this. A career first! We will land in seventy-two hours after finishing our preliminary rotation and once the landing crew have walked off the brain freeze.

I assume ‘Dad’ is a significant other of some kind, perhaps deceased, judging by its absence.

The landing was described in a series of cargo logbooks and completed by a small crew which had been woken up from their sleep. Supplies were conveyed to a low mesa in West and within a matter of days the settlement was born. It was built out over the surface of the sea, anchored to the mesa with powerful brackets that remain today. Throughout the entirety of its existence, the Atom Settlement continued to grow outwards, so the very heart of it was the oldest, the bowers constructed to house the first crew. One of those very first bowers was the gene laboratory, which had been transported in its entirety from Ceti.

Dan Loris offloaded the embryo cargo pod thirty-nine days after landing, still in the first year. Five days later, Ishmael’s amniotic sac was drained, and his deep dream interrupted by his birth.

The last moment of his encoded dream was common to all artificial dreams, designed to ease the transition into true waking life. He was falling asleep in his bed (an archaic sort of bower), his body feeling tired but satisfied after a day of typical, perfectly generic childhood games. He had something called a mother in this dream who pulled the blankets around his shoulders and kissed him as he drifted off, though he did not remember what their face looked like, only that they instilled within him a sense of perfect safety.

His moment of calm was soon eaten by sensation. It was cold, he realised. Colder than anything he had ever felt. The fluid that had supported him at a constant temperature for seven years was draining away and he reached out, to grab at the blanket he half-remembered. His nerves were alight with new sensations and the world was so bright it felt that he was staring into Odr’s eye.

Dan Loris described him as strong and healthy, but Ishmael did not feel that way. Everything was loud and bright and his body was so heavy. He had never truly experienced gravity, but that alone did not account for the disconnect. His dream had been the dream of a Precursor Human, a bipedal creature with a fully upright stance, straighter even than a shortwing’s, with no tail, no flippers, no phocid morphology. To the newborn Ishmael’s mind, he had just undergone a horrifying transformation, and his body was wrong.

Modern selkies and phocids are likely to imagine a child similar to their own young, but this is not the case. Ishmael was unnaturally pale and almost colourless save for a growth of hair which was a light red. His skin was very thin and translucent, with no markings aside from a blue pictogram on one shoulder, a stylised Atom emblem which had been engineered to form from his own skin pigments.

He was large and heavy compared to Human children of the same age, with a long arched neck connected to his head at the back rather than the bottom as was normal for Humans and harpies, which made it difficult for him to stand upright and look forward without inviting neck pain. He had very large and powerful hands with short webbed fingers, and a combination of long torso and short legs which would help him walk on all fours and swim cleanly with his tail fluke. His arms were quite long in comparison to a modern phocid’s and, at this age, he was exclusively bipedal.

He was born with pale eyes which were white around a pink iris, though that changed over the years. The first things he saw—that he consciously remembered seeing—were his own fingers clamped over those eyes to block out the lights at the laboratory. He opened them a crack, so that the light shone through the pink webbing. It confused him—there wasn’t supposed to be webbing there. Humans (and phocids) do not have webbing between their fingers, after all.

He was curled in on himself on a cold hard surface, while somebody spoke in the background. It is a great blessing that the automatic transcriber machine is still intact today, and we can access the exact words spoken in the laboratory for the entirety of its existence. After lengthy translation work, it can be rendered intelligible to us. Later I will share the correspondences between myself and the anonymous linguist who so greatly aided me here.

“He’s a concept, Ivana, we’re not putting him in the water until we know for sure the probes were right about that sea out there. And I kind of want to leave the actual bodywork to the betas, y’know, Ishmael is just a precaution before we wake them up.”

“Could you turn down the lights a little? I’d have a headache too if I was staring up into those things for the first time,” said Ivana. She had come down to the lab out of curiosity, to see the first-born Human on Siren.

“I need to be able to observe every reaction,” Dan Loris said. “Ishmael will get used to it. Delayed births can cause absolute havoc if the modifications aren’t tuned properly.”

His hands, dry and shockingly cold, caught Ishmael’s blocky wrist. Dan Loris pried the webbed hand away from Ishmael’s eyes and shone a pen light in each. Ishmael’s eyes stung and burned and he tried to wriggle away, but Dan Loris took no notice of this.

He passed a heart scanner along Ishmael’s front and watched the live feed appear on a display window in the side of the lab. Ishmael was rapidly forgetting his dream childhood in the face of this confusing start, but he did remember, for a moment, a similar scene. The childhood deep dream that he had been given included a scene of hospitalisation, to acclimatise children to medical checks.

So the footage of his skeleton and pounding heart on the wall was oddly familiar, though the shape was wrong and freakish to him. His head felt light and dizzy and he, only seven years old, had no ability to reconcile what he saw and felt with what he thought to be true. When Dan Loris pushed the wet red hair away from Ishmael’s face, Ishmael tried unsuccessfully to bite him.

“Funny little guy, isn’t he?” Ivana said, leaning into his line of sight. “Why’d you make him so pale? Like a lab rat.”

Dan Loris snorted. His medical scissors snipped by one of Ishmael’s ear holes and sliced off a chunk of hair. “Why d’you think those are white, too? He’s not here to look pretty. The betas will have proper pigment, they won’t fry in the sun.”

It was at this point that it all became too much for Ishmael. He broke into a sobbing fit with remarkable suddenness and didn’t stop until Dan Loris clamped a mask over his nose and mouth which delivered a soothing air into his lungs. Ishmael’s eyelids drooped. He looked around for his mother and didn’t see one. Calmer, he sat on the examination table and watched over the rim of the mask as Dan Loris performed all manner of tests on him, most of which made no sense to him, and seemed pointless. Every joint was checked for smooth abduction and adduction. Skin scrapings were collected from his tail. They took his blood and his saliva, and every inch of his body was captured in image form by a roving, flashing device.

His first meal came next – a pouch of gel designed for people who had been born in similar circumstances, which might prepare a stomach that had been empty its whole life for the rigours of real digestion. He had been fed through a large blood vessel in the artificial amniotic sac, and not through an umbilical cord. As a result, he had no navel, and spent his first few days alternatively vomiting and crying as his digestive tract learned how to work.

Delayed birth, while preventing a young mind from being irrevocably damaged by sleeping through key developmental periods, was still no substitute for a true childhood when it came to mental development. Ishmael could speak and understand others, but he essentially entered life as an unusually well-educated infant in a large and overdeveloped body.

The accounts of his mental growth during his early years are somewhat sparing. There are abundant records of the tests in which he was forced to participate, the exact parameters of his growth, his weaning from gel to solid food, even records of each trip to the latrine. But nobody thought to record his mood or emotional state beyond “Ishmael was cooperative today” or “Ishmael needed sedation today”.

What I can tell you is that by age ten he stood at average adult Human height and just about average adult Human weight. He rarely spoke and gave little indication of understanding anything said around him either. By this time, the second generation of Sirenians, the beta generation, had been given their own delayed births. But Ishmael did not interact with them and it appeared that he knew very little outside the confines of the lab.

At this point in life, he met Dan Loris’s own fosterling, known as a biological child. This biological child was called Callum and he had not had a delayed birth. In fact, he had been in frozen sleep alongside Dan Loris himself. Although he was also ten years old, he had lived in total seventeen years, even if those seven extra years had passed in the blink of an eye and left no lasting impression on his body or mind. By all accounts, this was a far more ethical way to transport someone great distances on The Lonely Sailor.

Callum’s interactions with Ishmael are well recorded, and the earliest examples we have of Ishmael expressing any desires or opinions – the daily records began to include lines like “Ishmael asked about Callum” or “Ishmael was upset at Callum’s absence”. And while there are transcriptions of every word spoken within the lab, the record banks are so huge that it becomes difficult to sift through for any clues as to how Ishmael was developing internally during this time. It seemed, in any case, that he enjoyed the company of another child his age, which is only to be expected, and that he was able to ask to spend more time with his only friend.

There is another side to this. Among other records we located a diary of Callum’s. All of the Precursors were required to write reports of their weekly activities, and the children in particular were encouraged to keep journals, to discuss their emotional reaction to the great upheaval in their lives, and their imaginings of an Atom-controlled future on this new world. Callum’s diary spans his teenage period, not this earlier time, and we will delve into its contents in a later chapter. But it does mention that, at age 10, Callum was wary of Ishmael, and that after a series of incidents which are poorly described but culminated in Ishmael pulling the laboratory door off its hinges, Callum no longer felt safe in his presence.

Indeed, the incidence of “Ishmael was sedated today” in the record logs increased quite dramatically at around this time. A reason is never explicitly stated but I would make an educated guess that Callum, growing more uncomfortable, was not spending as much time with Ishmael, causing distress in the latter. Ishmael was prone to tantrums, often wordlessly lashing out and, on the aforementioned occasion, breaking a door.

Ishmael himself was never consulted to determine the cause of these incidents, with all indications being that the lab workers did not believe him articulate enough to bother reasoning with. As anyone who has spent a season in the nursery knows, underestimating a child’s ability to understand on some level precisely what distresses him is a fool's error.

At the age of eleven, the tantrums had clearly become dangerous, given the damage to the lab infrastructure and Callum’s unwillingness to spend time with Ishmael. Ishmael was growing physically powerful in a way that had not been anticipated by his creator. It may seem surprising, but the art of genetic engineering was never so simple as merely picking and choosing what traits to instil in an embryo. As Dan Loris noted, the science was still relatively new, and their techniques, while powerful, were not precise enough to predict every single possibility. Thus the need for refining a design over concurrent generations, and for producing one-off ‘alpha’ variants like Ishmael himself. Either way, Ishmael was showing a tendency towards gigantism which had not been anticipated.

Management plans had to be drafted, and Dan Loris records the first ever instance of an attempt to understand Ishmael on an emotional level. He brought in a Human called Maris to talk to Ishmael once a day, in the hopes that it would calm him and provide some insights into his psyche. The notes of Maris are an invaluable resource, providing the most detailed written accounts of Ishmael’s childhood, which even Ishmael himself did not adequately record (citing trauma and personal distaste as his reasoning).

She also captured moving ‘video’ images of Ishmael during these sessions which I have been able to access. If not for these, critical moments and historical figures in Siren’s history may have been lost to time forever, leaving nothing but a dry tally of facts recording Ishmael’s physical parameters, as though he were little more than livestock.

*Humans refer to themselves as ‘he’ or ‘she’. I will leave this untranslated as I believe those are different enough to be significant to this society. Based on my studies of Atom society I believe that their usage of 'he' is entirely unrelated to its modern-day counterpart.

**it is my understanding that a computer is a type of machine which can receive information fed to it by a person and produce a mathematical calculation based on that information which the person can interpret, or cause another machine to perform a specific operation – this was used for every facet of Precursor life to automate their machinations, from food production to predicting the outcome of specific events. We may be more familiar with computers in the form of harpy visors though these could be of almost unlimited use.

#setting: siren #there ya go. needless to say our guy had a rough start and a rough middle and also a rough ending #writing tag

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marmalised · 20 days

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--------------------------------- THE SMILER PIZZA BAG --------------------------------- Original price: Free, given away as a promotion. Price I paid for mine: Won for £77 but total cost with postage was £81.20 via Ebay bidding. I however was originally not going to bid on this item as I knew it would go for something like £100+, however i chanced a bid and ended up winning the item in the end and while £80 is considered a lot of money to pay for a plastic empty pizza bag, this item is considered extremely rare and may only pop up now and again if you're lucky to come across one. As I collect merchandise for The Smiler I am lucky to have come into possession of one of these bags as there may only be 40 made out there in the world (This is according to Paul Jones who owns five of the bags in storage) - sources for this come from Paul Jones himself who used to be an avid collector of the older merchandise of The Smiler and a collector for Alton Towers merchandise. --------------------- Item information: Come the year 2014 a single vending machine appeared on the Alton Towers plaza in collaboration with GoodFella's to giveaway The Smiler branded pizza along with The Smiler branded pizza bags to carry the boxed pizza in for free. You were ordered by the information on the side of the vending machine to take a selfie (presumably outside the vending machine) to get your free GoodFella's pizza and then tweet your selfie to the twitter page @ GoodFellas_UK using the hashtag #goodfellasmiler to receive your free pizza around the corner (front of the vending machine). - A single person would stand inside the fake vending machine and then the person inside would dispense the pizza once a button was pressed by a member of the public who had just followed the steps above, allowing the said member of the public to collect the pizza in the branded bag once dispensed. Each person got a singular pizza each, however I do not know if you could have gone back and gotten multiple bags (personally I will assume that it was one bag per person but take that with a grain of salt as I am following information I have researched and inquired about to those who have experienced this promotion. - On the side of the vending machine there was also a QR code to scan where you could receive £1 off on The Smiler pizza in any of the stores selling the branded pizza. - The Smiler branded pizza was available in various supermarkets for a limited amount of time and offered a 2 for 1 promotion for entry into Alton Towers Resort. It was a deep pan pizza base topped with tomato sauce, cheese, spicy sausage, pan fried onions, and Jalapeños with a rating of three chili peppers to equal the pizza was quite hot. ------------------- The bag feels very durable and not like your average supermarket plastic bag that can easily tear. Inside the bag is white and features a slot to slide the pizza into or anything else you may want to place inside the bag. The bag also closes with a clasp and features a plastic black handle on the top. The Smiler logo is placed on the front bag along with the GoodFella's logo on the left hand side in the corner. The text under The Smiler logo say "THE SMILER PIZZA" "LIMITED EDITION" in capital letters featuring the font Orbitron commonly used for The Smiler marketing and ride as a whole.

------------------------------ Year promoted: 2014 only. ------------------------------ All information and photos given in this post have been through my own research, my own photos featuring the pizza bag, Paul Jones over on Facebook (TowersFanatic on other socials) for the item description (rewritten in my own words) and the last three photos featuring the pizza box, vending machine, and the group photo featuring himself and the Goodfella's promotion team. All credit goes to their respective owners and I have been given permission to repost the images above, I am simply documenting my merchandise collection and not using any of this for profit.

#alton towers #the smiler #the smiler merchive #smerchive #collection #the smiler merchandise #yes there was even a pizza branded with the smiler theme #yes i spent £80 on a bag #yes i am insane #yes my parents faces looked like that one video of the angry cat when i told them what i bought and how much #shout out to the singular person in the vending machine #the smizza #smoninoes #smizza hut?

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unclekoopus · 2 months

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Art theory states that art should have intention. A dissertation on "AI Art".

A disclaimer first of all that I am someone that has dived deep into AI image generation, I've worked with and created my own models and generated my own images using the open source code. I did this to understand what it is and how it works and I'd say I understand it more than most artists that talk about it online. I feel confident saying that I know what I'm talking about in this matter. I know its capabilities and limitations.

I'm not going to get into the morality of the use of it. I won't defend the rampant theft and copyright violations, I'm someone that believes that AI image gen at the very least should never be used for commercial purposes, but in this post I only want to talk about something else: Tte plain and simple merits of AI art as "Art" itself.

I'll start with repeating my premise statement: "Art theory states that art should have intention in order to be art." Does AI generation meet this criteria? Well, no, not really. Specifically it's not an image generation user's "art" if it is art at all.

With pattern biased algorithmic image generation, AKA "AI art”, someone pressing a button after typing in a prompt just doesn’t amount to a person actually picking and choosing their subject, their composition, and ESPECIALLY their meaning and message. The result is most definitely not the button-pusher's art, the generation is too random and what comes out belongs far more to the machine than to the prompter.

And a machine cannot by itself cogently make the essential choices to make an image successfully have intent. Language models we currently have cannot communicate a person's intent to the machine beyond a few broad strokes tags and trigger words, and pattern bias will often supercede those prompts anyway. A discerning eye will always be able to tell which decisions were made by a machine because it is not making them in the way a human being would, they appear uncanny in the most basic way. The generator is not understanding and interpreting the space and subject in the way that someone who lives and breathes with binocular vision and a human's infinitely more adaptable brain would.

The generator is incapable of truly understanding stylization or design principals, and all its continual, persistent mistakes in numbers of fingers, in anomalous anatomy, and broken gestalt, in nonsensical perspective, and merged and floating objects are a byproduct of this lack of living intelligence. These are things that will never go away, no matter how much data is fed into it because it is flawed at the core by the very basis of its pattern bias. It cannot "learn" how to fix them and so it can only hope to, at best, get lucky enough, or generate enough iterations of the same prompt that the images won't show the cracks. And that process is not creative, it's gambling at a slot machine hoping for a payout.

AI gen really is just a parlor trick at this moment in time, it’s a parrot that’s been taught to repeat phrases in response to certain stimuli to fool you into thinking you’re having a conversation, but it’s just really been trained to recognize noises, not meaning. It's a very pretty bird, but it's no replacement for the real thing, and the longer you "talk" with it, the more obvious that will become.

Art, the real art that the machine is trying and failing to learn from and replicate, requires a human’s creativity and problem solving to be able to make the decisions that will create a piece of art that someone can confidently call their own.

#ai art #text #art theory #anti ai

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littlemssam · 2 years

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Mod Updates

As always delete old Mods Files and the localthumbcache when updating my Mods!

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Added 5 missing Recipes the "Optional Feature Ingredients Required" Addon More Servings Options & Better MealTime Menus

Fixed an Issue with autonomously learning via pc not working Online Learning System

Sims should not magically wash clothes miles away from the washing machine anymore Small Laundry Overhaul

Fixed an Issue with other rugs getting the same slots i added since all rugs ingame use the same source. To fix that i had to make a clone of the tarp which you can find under - Activities & Skills/Misc. You need to take a tarp with you to the FleaMarket an put it into World there to sell stuff via the tarp. Sell more self made Woodwork at the Flea Market

Random Small Mods:

Added Support for Highschool Janitor cleaning Tables Auto Use Picnic Table when eating

Added some codes so Sims should choose close by Sinks more. Auto Brush Teeth (after Puking)

Added Meat Substitute to be buyable Order More Groceries

Added Werewolf Trait No Auto Club Gathering (Active Household)

Random Bug Fixes:

Compatibility Update for my upcoming Calendar Tweaks Mod Take Exam Fix

Added Support for the "Missing Furry Friends" Buff from Animal Enthusiast Trait Trait Buff Fixes

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Translations

Live in Business (Update of Russian by texsss) More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types (Update of Russian by texsss) Choose Your Roommate (Polish by livi) Live In Services (Polish by livi)

Don’t download these Updates if you have the Legacy Edition!

***

Support Questions via Discord only please!

#LittleMsSam #sims 4 mods #updates

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carltonlassie · 1 year

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AI art is not your art. It's sketchy at best if you wrote the code to train the model yourself, but you didn't train the models! You didn't source the dataset with consent! You didn't create anything! All you've done is just pull the lever on the mindless slot machine hoping you'd get something cool that you can post online for clout.

#only if stem majors took humanities courses #now have a whole bunch of technologists who are shit at thinking about the repercussions of their actions. this shit makes me so mad #i cant believe there is an ai art channel at my company slack. its not something to go 'ooh wonders of technology' 'ooh innovation'#tech ppl r so. infuriatingly dumb.

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nelsonseo567 · 2 years

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gleenlaura · 2 years

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#slot machine c #source code #c #slot machine source code #code

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jarfulloftears · 2 years

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just the good parts [3/4]

gif source: @chewynecklace

whew! it’s been a while, huh?

here’s part one and part two of this mini-series, for those who missed it.

the following part includes: vulgar language. enjoy!

word count: 2k

featured song:

Chatter and jeering exploded from the booth, syrup being passed and utensils clanking as the friend group reminisced and debated.

Amid such rambunction, there was a peace and contentment that radiated from Dilan. She watched them liven up the diner all on their own, a soft smile painted along the gloss of her lips.

When another round of hotcakes were suggested and a couple of people wanted to make way for the restroom before the food would be delivered to the table, Dilan and I were obligated to rise from our seats.

And as we waited for the shuffle of passing bodies and the re-sitting of our arrangement, Dilan caught sight of the jukebox stationed allll the way in the back of the diner’s seating area.

Her body became another one that passed mine, and as if she were a magnet of opposing polar attraction, I trailed right behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at me, a flirtatious glint in her eyes as she asked if I had some change.

“Sure,” I shrugged, fishing out my wallet as we approached the machine and the big price notice taped to the display glass.

Since when were jukebox selections more than twenty-five cents?

She didn’t blink twice at the quadrupled price, waiting patiently for me to somehow scrounge up such currency.

All of my money was tied up in digital means. Who carried around money, let alone change, anymore?

Luckily I did, for one song and one song only.

Once a dollar’s worth was slipped into the coin slot, the archaic machine came alive with dancing incandescent lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, beginning to flip through the automated sheets of song selections.

“Of course,” I shrugged, leaning on the opposite side of the machine.

“You must’ve used one of these before,” I commented on her evident familiarity.

“Yeah, my folks had one, back home.”

“Cool,” I nodded, taking note of the increasingly loud table talk coming from no other table except ours.

I chuckled, “Your friends are a trip.”

“Don’t I know it. They’re good people though,” she giggled.

“Yeah, they are,” I agreed.

She continued to flip and look, flip and look.

“Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Something to dance to.”

“I figured you’d be all danced out.”

“Never that,” she scoffed before abruptly gasping. “Oh my gosh, no way!”

“What?”

“This song! I haven’t heard this in so long. You’ve gotta dance with me on this one,” she wasted no time in punching in the song’s selection code and motioning me to follow her.

She stood only a few feet away from the contraption, an urgent wave of the hand beckoning me over again. I didn’t want to waste any more time, so I approached with some pep in my step.

Keys and windchimes came raining down from a cloud of wonder. Dilan’s hand became a puddle in mine.

A smile brushed up on the shores of her cheeks, and although it was whatever o’clock, I could see sunsets in her eyes. Our bodies were strung together in tender intimacy, our gazes mingling like grass blades in the wind.

I didn’t have the mind to ruin our peace with the storm of anxious hypotheticals that would typically steal my joy. Any self-imposed pressures to live up to whoever I was in her head had long since melted away.

Thank god for asteroid delta-four.

All that mattered were those lakes beyond her pupils and that coy simper that kissed her lips.

The sweet melody of a faceless singer seeped into the warmth curated only by the two of us. I grinned at the sound, mentioning that this sounded like something my parents would’ve sung to each other.

“That’s sweet,” she said. “Your folks, are they still together?”

“Nah,” I almost laughed at the thought. As long as they’ve been separated, it’d be weird to actually witness a union between them.

“Mine neither... Legally, they are, but… people grow apart, ya’ know?”

“Yeah,” I offered an answer just as we swept ourselves into a sway, just until a prominent tempo would arise from the jazzy improvisations of the song.

Her gaze fell from mine, her eyes swiping my lips as she spoke. “I think they’re still together for me… but I don't want them together. I want them happy.”

“Maybe them thinkin’ they’re doing what’s best for you makes them happy,” I proposed an alternative to her train of thought.

Her attention reverted to my eyes again and a tiny smile found her face again. The bouncing notes of a keyboard cued the rest of the accompanying band. Thus, our sway became a two-step filled with intent.

The hand that happily resided on my shoulder became planted to my face— only to knock waffle crumbs from the side of my mouth.

I laughed like a goof while she cracked an amused smile and used her voice to join the introductory harmonies that poured out of the jukebox.

And i’ve just got to be me... me... me

“How long had that been there?” I was still chuckling about waffle crumbs.

“Long enough,” she gave a brief laugh of her own while pulling me closer.

With arms that locked around my neck, her head lay gently against my shoulder. My hands were married at the small of her back as we continued our tandem stepping.

I embraced her fully, my face nestling in her hair as my head rested against hers.

Solace was provided in the flowery sounds of a 70’s classic and the vanilla-y scent of conditioner. With closed eyes, I allowed the stylings of a soprano to lure me into a place where I was as free as she yearned to be.

“This song is crazy beautiful,” I commented just after the horns joined the cornucopia of ethereal sounds.

“Yeah,” she agreed before lifting her head to catch my sight.

Her eyes gleamed with oncoming tears, those lakes in her gaze shining under fluorescents.

“Doesn’t it, like, make you want to cry?” She sniffled with a smile fighting to keep its place amid the invasion of waterworks.

No way those tears had been induced solely by this song, especially with it not even being halfway over.

I spared my assurance anyway, hoping it was some consolation for her bittersweet sorrows.

“Yeah,” I mirrored her smile as she fanned her face in an attempt to dry the tears before they could even spill.

She tossed an awkward laugh. “I forgot to tell you I become a crybaby when I get too high.”

It was the first time I witnessed her hiding behind a mechanism, using fallacies dipped in humor to deter my sympathy.

I couldn’t blame her. Tonight was supposed to be fun. That was the tone she set from the moment we locked eyes in the club.

But just because that’s what it was supposed to be didn’t mean that it had to stay like that.

Besides, I didn’t mind a splash of reality in this wondrous bubble we made for ourselves.

I craved a sense of humanity that would show the shadows of my two-dimensional goddess, that way I’d know I wasn’t dreaming.

“What’chu frontin’ for?” I asked with my hand raising to fluff her hair, one side had flattened during our slow dance.

“Because i’m fucking crying and probably blowing your high… This is so not on-brand for me,” she shook her head with just enough force to emphasize her point. But not enough to shake my hand away from her fro.

I probably should’ve asked before palming the soft zigzags of her crown. Not too long after the thought occurred, I apologized for my lack of boundaries.

“It’s fine,” she didn’t seem all too concerned with my regretful acknowledgement. Her pointer finger was hooked, her knuckle patting her waterline as if she were manually forcing the tears back into their ducts.

“You’re not blowing my high. If anything, this makes it feel more surreal,” I offered a miniscule smile.

“What’s surreal about it?” she gave a slight pout as my hand finally withdrew from her head.

My hands reunited on her back again. “Seeing this tantalizing force show some… layers,” I shrugged, not being able to think of a more eloquent way to put it.

She allowed my words to sink into her thoughts, a slight smirk tugging at her mouth. “tantalizing, huh?”

My confirmation was paired with a genuine smile.

She relaxed in my embrace. her hands set themselves on my shoulders as she gazed up at me. “Layers... You don’t do the superficial thing?”

“Not really,” I scoffed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know… I just don’t,” I’d never really thought about it before. “It’s just not me.”

“Well… you’ve just gotta be you,” her smirk had fattened into a grin at the song reference she just made.

I initially didn’t get it, giving her a bemused smile out of courtesy. The chorus of the music sprang out of the jukebox just in the nick of time, saving me from a missed joke.

“Oh!” The realization struck like lightning. Laughter trailed like thunder.

She giggled too, a sweet, close-lipped smile melting onto her face once she finished. My cackles ceased shortly after hers, and while soulful adlibs floated on, I scuba-dived in her eyes with glee.

“So, I gotta be me… who you gotta be?” I queried.

“I gotta be… everything… to everyone,” she shrugged with her smile having a melancholic shade to it now.

I shook my head. “Not to me.”

“You don’t know that yet,” her head tilted.

“Neither do you,” I countered.

Her eyebrows rose while she fought to keep her smile from widening. “Touché,” she was impressed.

I felt it was only right to respond with a French term. Not knowing much of the language, I presented her with, “voulez-vous.”

“Do I want what?”

“Oh, shit. Is that what that means?” I snickered.

“Yeah, it’s the beginning of a question,” my silliness entertained her so much that she began laughing harder than she had all night.

She roared all over a fading keyboard solo, only stopping once the chatter of the diner was the only music left of our time spent.

“That is the funniest thing ever!” she somehow found herself slipping right between my fingers.

“Touché, voulez-vous,” she giggled while beginning to amble off of our imaginary dancefloor.

“Where are you going?” My hand attached itself to hers in an almost desperate attempt to keep her close.

“To get another dollar. I wanna hear that song again,” she beamed.

“I got one, right here,” I dug into my pocket, retrieving the same bill given to me in the earliest hours of my evening.

I’d forgotten that I even had it.

“Oh, okay,” she said while retracing her steps.

It took some elbow grease in rubbing the paper over the nearest available table corner, but the bill was finally straight enough to insert into the song machine.

Within seconds, the walls of our bubble shot up once again, and our closeness was reinstated. The quiet storm of percussive instruments brewed yet again.

“No tears, this time. I promise,” she vowed with a chuckle.

“Oh, no. Bring on the waterworks. I want the Hoover Dam’s worth,” I replied, triggering another giggle as her hands joined behind my neck.

The ivory stones that lived beyond her kissable lips were put on full display. The sight turned my heart into gunk, slopping at our footsteps as we swayed yet again.

She shook her head with a sigh. “I bet you got hella girls wrapped around your finger.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re so charming,” it was with that statement that her own charm encroached on me like a predator.

Her seductive nature had been lying in wait since we left the club, and now, it was preparing its launch on to me. Even under the haze of a high, our attraction couldn’t be dampered— at least not for long.

Her fingertips skated up and down the nape of my neck, prompting a slight smile to settle on my face at the soothing gesture.

She bit her lip as if she knew the action would be a beloved torment.

She was offering me another opportunity to play up my smooth-talking abilities just by pointing them out, and I didn’t hesitate to deliver.

“Only girl I’m tryna’ have wrapped around me is you.”

A delighted smile saturated her face. Her caress seemed to drag now as she diminished the space between our faces.

With a fiery kiss pressed to the corner of my lips, she upheld her tempting persona. Seconds later, she leaned toward my ear and solidified the mold she’d built of herself— tall and enticing.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” she whispered.

Her soft lips were stamped just behind my jaw, my eyes fluttering closed at such bite-sized ecstasy.

With that, her head was pinned to my shoulder, and her arms stretched to lock around me yet again.

The music played on, wrapping us in its embrace while we found contentment in our rock and sway.

It was the most peace i’d felt in weeks. From gazing at the stars and clasping one between my arms, this was somehow the most exhilarating night of my life— even more than when I got caught up in a street race, back home.

“Dylan,” her angelic murmur wasn’t hard to hear, even as soothing harmonies held my ears captive.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter to talk?” She asked.

I didn’t give it much thought.

Tonight’s events were proof that I didn’t really care where we went, as long as she was in my company.

With a quick glimpse at the booth, at which the gang continued bantering over another round of pancakes, I took pleasure in using her own words from earlier as an answer.

“I say we ditch these fools.”

[read part four here]

#spence moore ii #writing #fic writing #makeboyscry #jarfulloftears #JTGP #Spotify

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