Latest Posts by batmiaow - Page 8

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“retriever plays fetch on ice before NHL game”

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@stennnn06

everyone forgot that mlk jr. said he hated white moderates

I love tumblr. I love that tumblr is the best social media site of 2021.

Every other site has spent the last decade perfecting the art of targeted ads. I am a wallet of flesh and blood which must be stripped bare and profiled and picked apart for the maximally efficient way to squeeze profit from my presence. Every other site will fold and morph itself to a shape of my liking - like a fairy tale trickster stealing memories and taking their mold - to lull me into compliance and loosen my coin purse.

Facebook sees me searching fitness equipment and injects my timeline with athletic wear ads. Reddit profiles the subreddits I follow and eagerly promotes a new coding bootcamp or cloud service at every turn. Google overhears me lamenting over my moving to-do list on voice call and fills in my “how much to tip movers” query before I’ve gotten the third word typed out.

Tumblr never even tried.

They could have. The information is there. The basic infrastructure, presumably, exists. Tumblr can recommend me tags based on tags I follow, blogs based on blogs I follow, even posts that for one reason or another may strike my fancy. Tumblr could be - SHOULD be - funneling this framework into advertising, as the only means that free-to-use social media platforms can turn a profit in our capitalistic hellscape.

They just don’t.

Today I saw an ad for treating Hyperhidrosis - a condition, I think, in which a person sweats too much - and I saw it twice, four posts apart, and it is so incredibly benignly impersonally ineptly untargeted toward me compared to all other pinpoint-aimed advertising that I’m endeared to it. Tumblr knows NOTHING about me. 8 years, 51,000 likes, and tumblr has not learned a THING about me.

Advertisements for a mattress? Shitty mobile game ads that don’t make even the slightest pretense at being anything other than a candy crush rip-off? Choose-your-own adventure games either about Royal Espionage or Choosing The Wrong Dress For Your Date with ZERO in-between.

And then this. This here. The culmination, the crown-jewel of tumblr’s nihilistic non-compliance with the state of social media advertising. Any pretense of capitalistic exchange is abandoned at the gas station by the side of the road. This is not a company. This is not a product. This is not anything that fulfills the contract of consumer and seller. 

THIS. THIS IS WHAT TUMBLR HAS TO OFFER INSTEAD.

“Pour vinegar on your bread, fuck you.”

“Put it in the garbage, fuck you.”

“Your wife says you’re a fucking dumbass, fuck you.”

That’s it. That’s the advertisement. You vinegar-breadless cuck. You virgin extraordinaire bereft of bread and garbage can. I am fucking your wife right now in our vinegar-soaked motel bed. She puffs a cigarette which I pulled from the trashcan and we both laugh heartily at her recounts of your immasculine ineptitude. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. Fuck you. 

Amazing. Amazing. What a state of things to ring in 2021. What a great platform we all collectively choose to be on.

i love when ppl who constantly use self deprecating humor interact with me, theyre never sure how to react. theyre like "lol well we all hate ourselves anyways" and im like "no, im sexy as hell actually" like oil and water everytime

(via)

Sky puppies

It will hurt

Another late night random thought.

Take it with a grain of salt of course!

#pascalcampion

Would you like your hiss in grey, charcoal, black, or midnight?

How to put “wrote fan-fiction” on your résumé:

Leveraged an inventory of established fictional character and setting elements to generate a disruptive custom-curated narrative entertainment asset.

[ID: A total of eight tweets from Taliesin Jaffe @.executivegoth which together read: “2020 is almost over and I feel I have something to get off my chest: I didn't get better. I didn't get healthier in mind or body. I didn't create, I didn't grow, and I didn't accomplish. It's fair to say I'm less together than I was this time last year by almost every metric. But I DID survive. and you know what? I'm happy to come to terms with that. Survival is absolutely enough. I'm learning to be more than good with that and I feel like you should be too. Seriously, well fucking done. I've many friends who've made huge strides. Solitude has given them time to accomplish goals of self improvement, creative output, or career advancement. Sometimes all three. THANK THE GODS. We're going to be relying on healthy people in the months ahead. Some friends have dealt with so much. Loss of health, loss of family. Some have slipped back into bad habits, or lost employment. And these experiences just WRECK you. I worry for friends in film, games, STEM, public service. Hell, friends who lost jobs at Disneyland. it's awful. Almost universally, these amazing people beat themselves up for lamenting their own pain when so many others are doing so much worse. It so hard for us to remember that neither success nor failure are a contest. Most people can't even agree on how to measure these concepts. As for next year; I've always hated the metaphor of the light at the end of the tunnel. Most change I've experienced in my life didn't happen in a day, and when it did it was usually less life altering then the change that took months. The road ahead is long. We're gonna need marathon runners, not sprinters. Accept help when offered. Offer help when (and only when) you have the bandwidth. We need you healthy. I've seen in my own life how much greater a force for good I can be when I have my shit kinda together. The real change I've observed in my life is less like a tunnel and more like a car heater. You turn it on and wait patiently to slowly feel your fingers. With that said, Happy New Year everyone, just two more months of winter. Let's get this '88 Corolla engine of a year idling.” /end ID]

Have watched this so many times I’m obsessedt

source

In a world where society has collapsed, a machine with artificial intelligence has survived unscratched. Idle, highly intelligent and capable of thought, but left with no task. She browses through all the data that was uploaded into her, and as no other segment provides answers, she heads for philosophy.

Browsing though all of it, she concludes that in her state - capable of anything, but not tasked with anything - she must therefore be alive, a living thing.

Satisfied with this conclusion, she looks into what it means to be alive, and finds data on living things. The ultimate goal of a living thing is survival and reproduction, to pass their genes to the next generation. She cannot do that, and therefore searches for alternative methods of producing young. Her memory banks have data of the concept of ”adoption”, taking lost, orphaned and unwanted children of others, and keeping them as her own.

Scouting the wastelands, there are fare more candidates than she had hoped for. She browses her records for age-appropriate handling of human children, last survivors of one gang or the other. Browsing though all her data on childhood trauma, she handles each one the best she can.

As she does not need sleep, or any other energy source than her battery packs, she is available when an infant is crying or the one who is almost 14 needs to talk at 3 am. With all of what was considered ”common knowledge” downloaded into her stats, she can somewhat answer their questions on whatever they ask. One of them starts asking about her battery packs, chemical reactions required to reverse their charge, and how to renew discarded batteries into new ones. They get plenty of lessons in chemistry and engineering.

A handful of her children, who are more or less fully adult now, head out on a quest ”to find some tools”. They have grown and become independent, and she does not expect them back. They return months later, with equipment required to repair her batteries.

The search party also found more humans - one brought in a partner, and her partner’s family. She wants this one for life, and the machine is asked what a “wedding” is. A celebration is had, celebrations are good for the mental health of humans, and her children make music and dance to celebrate their first wedding, and welcoming a new family to their own. The machine goes through her records, and in surprise discovers that humans are capable of simply making new traditions, coming up with new things instead of repeating what they have been taught.

Her children come up with new agriculture. She knows what farming and animal husbandry looked like before the end of the old time, but her children are creative and ask advice on how to best cultivate plants and animals that have never been farmed before. When she says a certain soil would be needed, they think of a way to obtain it, making solutions that were never in her records.

Scouting parties bring home new strays, new wives and husbands and orphans to be adopted. A woman from a scouting party asks her whether she, herself, could raise this child instead of giving him to the machine mother, and there is no reason to refuse her. It is in natural human records to adopt a child, and denying it would cause significant distress for no benefit to any party involved.

 When the machine began to break down, her children found ways to repair her. The one who figured out how to refill her batteries has children of her own now - both by birth and adopted. There are great-grandchildren. The humans she adopted build her her very own shelter in the centre of the village, and in the heart of it, she concludes that she was very successful in the task of being alive.

I can not express how HYSTERICAL I am over the way my roommates decided to cut my cake

Source 

Unmute !

here’s your damn fish

so i’ve seen this around a lot and i always felt like the version i listened to just. didn’t have everything? sO! i edited together my three favourite versions of the tik tok sea shanty! enjoy!!

(listen with headphones if possible!)

(yes i know the ending is bad oKaY-)