32, 33 The National: Laugh Track/First Two Pages of Frankenstein

There’s recently been a lot of talk over what jobs will be the first to be replaced by AI, as all of humanity furrows its brow in the staff break room after the massive buy out of the company by robots. Part of the reason behind the 2023 actors and writers strike was the studios admitting that with AI it now took them no talent at all to make movies, with one studio exec admitting that “Mate, I caught Taylor Lautner’s face in my dashcam* while driving through Hollywood last week, now I have enough footage to release a dozen more Twilight movies. Watch out for ‘Twilight 8: Imprinting on Elves‘ this Christmas! Does anyone have any cocaine? Don’t print that last part”.

are Mandy, Indiana the version of Anna Indiana that caught a computer virus?

(*he was asking to clean the exec’s windows at a traffic stop. Taylor Lautner is… not in a good place, man… Partially because of AI! But, yes, mostly because of the PCP)

The UK government has “pledged to ask responsibility” on AI weapons, with a government source quoted as saying that “We would never enact the use of our kick ass, super cool war robots with anything less than absolute seriousness”. The source then did a robot dance with a toy gun in each hand while making ‘P-choo! P-choo! P-choo!’ laser sounds, before stopping, putting the toy guns back in their briefcase, clearing their voice and announcing “So, yeah, that’s pretty much how it works”. The government pledging to ‘act responsibility’ in the production of autonomous weapon systems – widely known as ‘killer robots’ – is like your weird uncle Danny pledging to ‘drink responsibly’ after lining up a dozen Jägerbathbombs (like a standard Jägerbomb with a sprinkling of bath salts) on the bar in front of him.

AND I DON’T WANNA FEEL HOW MY HEART IS RIPPIN’

2 SPELLLING: The Turning Wheel

2019 #10

Gee, thanks a lot Christmas Day…

Now I’ve got to start at the first day again! And finish, because it’s currently close to midnight on Boxing Day while I write this, and numbers two and one of this year’s list will be announced before many of the millions (and millions) of fans of this blog get out of bed. Isn’t it a damn shame that I had to stop at fifteen consecutive days though? I hear that when you reach twenty consecutive days you actually start earning money for writing. New York Times columnists get paid $350k a year, and you know how? They just never stop their daily streak! Charles Blow is currently on a 16,939 [SIXTEEN THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY NINE] day streak! He started on his fifth birthday by harshly critiquing the level of presents that he was somehow expected to enjoy that year (“A Space Hopper, mother, really? And how, exactly, is one expected to improve one’s life by simply bouncing around on an inflated orange ball? What epiphanies is one expected to reach? Am I expected to gaze into that lifeless face and see myself reflected in his sad eyes? Perhaps this is intended to be Gerald Ford, whose ‘bouncing’ support is laughably intended to keep myself and others like me precociously and intermittently above the bottom line of the hard ground below us? And you said it talked. It definitely doesn’t talk, you fucking whore”. Yeah, some of Blow’s early work can seem a little problematic to modern sensibilities), and has just popped out another article every day since. Admittedly, he can sometimes obviously be struggling for material, His fourteen thousand eight hundred and seventy second article was just him ranking the different noises his chair makes when he sits down, his fifteen thousand and twelfth post was just the entire lyrics of Scatman’s World by Scatman John followed by the sentence “Is it not still the case? #ScatmanDidItFirst”, while his sixteen thousand four hundred and second post was just a piece of clickbait suggesting that Kylian Mbappe might be sighing for Liverpool. But you know what he did after writing each article? A spellcheck, yeah? To check the spelling? Or, perchance, the Spellling?? See, it all fits in, don’ tell me how to do my job.

I’LL BE RIGHT HERE, LITTLE DEER

Entry #4 Marina and the Diamonds: Obsessions

What is the point of this blog? I mean, really?

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Don’t answer that.

I don’t mean to say ‘don’t answer that’ as a joke, like the answer would somehow be difficult to hear, it was an entirely serious suggestion. An order, really. It would really slow this entry down to a standstill were I to pause now to open it up for reader’s suggestions. It’s pretty much the definition of a rhetorical question, see? I’m not actually expecting you to answer, merely just asking it for dramatic effect. Do you see? Good.

Continue reading “Entry #4 Marina and the Diamonds: Obsessions”