Hey @kriz-smthn , Finish Your Novel! I Need To Read It And It Sounds Like You're Running Out Of Runway.

I'm in tech and I agree that there are some things that LLMs can do better (and certainly faster) than I can.

1. Provide workable solutions to well-described (but fairly straightforward) problems. For example "using jq (a json query language tool) take two json files and combine them in this manner...."

2. Identify and fix format issues: "what changes are required to make this string valid json?"

3. Doing boring chores. "Using this sample data, suggest a well normalised database structure. Write a script that creates a Postgres database, and creates the tables decided above. Write a second script that accepts json objects that look like EXAMPLE and adds them into the database."

However, while there is a risk my employer will decide that LLMs can reduce the workforce significantly, 99% of what I do can't be done by LLMs yet and I can't see how that would change.

LLMs have the ability to draw on the expertise and documentation created by millions of people. They can synthesise that knowledge to provide answers to fairly casually askef questions. But they have no *understanding* of the content they're synthesising, which is why they can't give correct answers to questions like "what is 2+2?" or "how many times does the letter r appear in strawberry?" Those questions require *understanding* of the premise of the question. "Infer, based on hundreds of millions of pages of documentation and examples, how to use this tool to do that thing" is a much easier ask.

The other thing about having no understanding is that they can't create anything truly new. They can create new art in the style of the grand masters, compose music, write stories... But only in a derivative sense. LLMs possess no mind, so they can't *imagine* anything. Users who use LLMs to realise their own art are missing out on the value of learning how to create their art themselves. Just as I am missing out on the value of learning how to use the tool jq to manipulate json files which would enable me to answer my own question.

LLMs have such a large environmental footprint, that they're morally dubious at best. It should be alarming that LLM proponents are telling us to just use these tools without worrying about the environment, because we aren't doing enough to fix climate change anyway. "Leave solving the future to LLMs?!" LLMs aren't going to solve climate change, they're incapable of *understanding* and *innovating*. We already know how to save ourselves from climate change, but the wealthy and powerful don't want to because it would require them to be less rich and powerful.

The trillion dollar problem is literally "how do we change our current society such that leadership requires the ability to lead, a commitment to listen to experts and does not result in the leader getting buckets of money from bribes and lobbying?" preferably without destroying the supply chain and killing hundreds of thousands.

so like I said, I work in the tech industry, and it's been kind of fascinating watching whole new taboos develop at work around this genAI stuff. All we do is talk about genAI, everything is genAI now, "we have to win the AI race," blah blah blah, but nobody asks - you can't ask -

What's it for?

What's it for?

Why would anyone want this?

I sit in so many meetings and listen to genuinely very intelligent people talk until steam is rising off their skulls about genAI, and wonder how fast I'd get fired if I asked: do real people actually want this product, or are the only people excited about this technology the shareholders who want to see lines go up?

like you realize this is a bubble, right, guys? because nobody actually needs this? because it's not actually very good? normal people are excited by the novelty of it, and finance bro capitalists are wetting their shorts about it because they want to get rich quick off of the Next Big Thing In Tech, but the novelty will wear off and the bros will move on to something else and we'll just be left with billions and billions of dollars invested in technology that nobody wants.

and I don't say it, because I need my job. And I wonder how many other people sitting at the same table, in the same meeting, are also not saying it, because they need their jobs.

idk man it's just become a really weird environment.

English class is excellent, but it needs to be more than just English class.

We need open ended research questions to teach folk how to formulate questions, interrogate data, state assumptions and test those assumptions. For example, using a data set of Senate votes, you can teach how voting works and how votes are counted (Civics), how two party preferred is calculated (Civics and Maths) and get students to write code (Tech) to process the data in various ways. Then use their findings (English) to support an argument (for example living a side on FPTP versus PV).

Science classes often cover pseudo science, but they should also cover how to analyse your test results, and what to do when your test results don't match the results you anticipated.

Religious education classes (where they exist) often cover cults, but everyone needs to be taught about how to identify cult-like indoctrination. It should be part of Health (or equivalent).

We need classes on relationships (not just sex ed), such as the importance of self respect, respecting the others, what healthy relationships look like (including friendships), what red flags to watch out for, what to do when you don't feel safe.

"they should teach media literacy in schools" english class "they should teach students how to spot misinformation" it's english class "they should teach kids critical thinking" it's called english class

So this happened on November 14.

The bill that opposition party MP Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke tore up before the haka suggests moving interpretation of the 1840 Treaty of Waitangi from the courts to Parliament.

It is essential to understand that the courts have often been used to rein in Parliament's misinterpretation with respect to provisions in the Treaty.

The Waitangi Tribunal, set up in 1975 to investigate alleged breaches of the Treaty of Waitangi, notes the bill "purposefully excluded any consultation with Māori, breaching the principle of partnership, the Crown’s good-faith obligations, and the Crown’s duty to actively protect Māori rights and interests". It also said that the principles of the bill misinterpreted the Treaty of Waitangi and that this "caused significant prejudice to Māori".

Act - a minor party in the ruling centre-right coalition, and the party that introduced this bill - claim that the Treaty has resulted in the country being divided by race. However, there's no suggestion that this measure will improve the fortunes of the 18% of New Zealand's population who are Māori. Many Māori remain disadvantaged compared with the general population on metrics such as health outcomes, household income, education levels and incarceration and mortality rates. There remains a seven-year gap in life expectancy.

The tabling of the Treaty Principles Bill comes following a series of measures introduced by the government that have affected Māori. They include the closure of the Māori Health Authority, which was set up to help create health equity, and reprioritising English over Māori when it comes to the official naming of government organisations, for example.

much better footage of the haka that shut down parliament today

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?

One can hope...

I love this picture so much! Post it whenever I come across it.

The Depths of Ultra, part 1

This is the first 5ish pages to a short story I wrote in undergrad. I want to be an author, I am a writer, but I work doing other things to make ends meet. This specific story is my best and most polished work, but its too long to be submitted to any competition and too short to be a book. I have no idea what I am doing. -Enjoy ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ -and you’ll never be!” his father growled. Eorling cringed away from the disappointment in his father’s eyes. The burning stare followed him as he ran away through an endless corridor that stretched out to the horizon and up to the sky. Behind him, his father’s scolding rant followed him, growing louder and louder until  the nightmarish specter was upon him.

Eorling flinched and groaned as someone banged away in the hallway with a pair of wooden clackers. He rolled over, peering at the wall between him and his door, as if he would suddenly become clairvoyant. He pulled himself out of bed, and the clackers sounded again. This time, whoever was wielding them called aloud.

“Up! Up, you shiftless, lazy, long-eared louts! We’re digging today! Ankirat burn your slow bones! Get out here now!”

The voice belonged to one Foreman Ozglow. Experienced and effective, he was one of the most favored foremen in all of Ultra. The stout dwarf commanded respect and not a little awe, with an armored beard and arms covered in the scars of many battles. He could also bang clackers together loud enough to wake the dead.

Eorling hastily stuffed himself into his work clothes: a thick linen shirt and canvas overalls. He stomped his feet into sturdy, steel capped boots with thick soles and wax-sealed walls that kept out the water and damp. The hat he fit onto his head was also capped with steel, and the padding inside was brand new. Overall it was a snug, comfortable outfit that was built for hard work. Dressed, Eorling drained the dregs of last night's beer that he had left, tugged his beard, wiped his mustache, and was off.

The rest of the crew was out in the hallway, stretching and scratching themselves. The Foreman was counting heads and was already geared up. A spark of excitement flared in Eorling. Today’s the start of my shift. After putting in a full forty-eight hour shift, he would be a professional miner with all of the glory that came with it. He would also finally be considered an adult. Eorling hoped it would be enough to get the respect he so desperately desired from his father. Eorling’s father was a bitter dwarf. After a smithing accident took his arm, he had become rough and callous and often directed his misery at his only son. Eorling had battled for decades to earn his old man’s appreciation, but nothing seemed to work. Maybe, Eorling thought, this will turn the tide. A nice haul of loot and a good shift of work. He can’t ignore that.

The others were all there: Rikin, the foreman’s second, who had spent more time in the dark of the depths of Tera than in Ankirat’s daylight; Azik, who always carried his pick and shovel across his shoulders and bragged about his way with the lasses at the tavern; Krozlin, the only female dwarf on the crew, who was more than a match for any of them; and Eorling, the greenbeard. Foreman Ozglow turned, nodded as he counted Eorling, then spoke again.

“Right, lads! I’ve got a treat for the lot of you, and, if you don’t appreciate it, then you can sod off! Heading to Kron three. Gear up there.”

The rest turned to hustle that way. Eorling did too, but Ozglow stopped him with an outstretched hand. The foreman’s deep amber eyes studied him seriously. Previous apprehensions about his father’s lack of acceptance crept back into Eorling’s mind.

“Watch yourself down there, lad. I ain’t keeping firm eyes on you, and neither are the others.”

“Yes, foreman,” Eorling replied.

Ozglow’s stare was unblinking. “I mean it lad. You want to be a man? Act like one. Get moving.”

The hand was raised, and Eorling carried on. He trundled along through a maze of gray, stone tunnels, navigating in the dim light by reading the tunnel names at each intersection. The flickering lantern lights would not give enough light for humans or elves or immortals, but for the superior eyesight of the dwarves it was more than enough. After a short jog, he puffed his way up to a large, mostly empty room. Other than its entryway, it had three more portals, set into angled walls at one end. All three of these arches were numbered on their keystone, with the title for this section of the mine carved above them: “Kron.” 

The rest of his crew were pulling equipment from a set of battered old footlockers, and joking amongst themselves. Rikin did not speak much, and when he did, it was in a low, soft tone. Azik was loud and boisterous, always looking to get a snide jab in, whereas Krozlin was simply untouchable by the insults, always giving back as good as she got. Azik found no purchase today and turned to Eorling.

“Greenbeard! Glad you finally caught up.” With an easy smirk, the dwarf leaned back against a wall.  “I was worried I’d have to do all the mining my own damn self!”

Krozlin snorted and retorted with her North-Laker accent. “Oh give off, you blow-beard. You couldn’t work a stout into a froth with those arms of yours.”

Azik waved a hand as if he was swatting her words away. “I told you I’m not talking to you anymore, lass. No use in it.”

“Because you cannae stand a lady.”

Eorling kept his head down as he began to untangle a harness from one of the lockers. He knew joining in was a sure way to become the butt of the joke, and he had no want to embarrass himself on his first shift. Azik and Krozlin kept going.

“I love my ladies! And they love me! You’re just a curmudgeon what doesn’t know when to stop!”

“Hah!” She laughed, pausing in the act of pulling her harness up to her hips. “ Those skinny flits at the tavern, ladies? I’ve found human lads firmer than em! Those are sickly girls, and you should keep your hands off of em!”

Rikin made himself heard. “No, he should feed them. I agree, some of the younger ones have begun looking too thin for their own good.”

“Hear that Azik? Right from one who ought to know!”

Eorling continued getting his gear on. A shovel, a pickaxe, a small hammer and chisel, his harness and some protective plates, a cap spindle to hold a candle for light, a mine mug with a hinged lid on it, metal edging for his boots, and a few brass beard-studs to keep his facial hair firmly fixed in its braided pattern. This kept it from getting frizzy in the damp of the depths. He sat to dig out his gloves, as the rest of the crew were sitting by now.

Azik turned to him. “Well, what about you? You’re young, and you don’t look too thin, but your arms could do with a good double shift.”

“Ah,” he stuttered, “m-maybe, yeah.” Eorling had never known he was embarrassed about his lack of a love life. Until now.

“So shy! Kroz, you might like this lad, he’s all meek!”

Eorling felt a blush rising as the miner lady laughed. “Maybe! But no, I’m going steady still.”

“What, with that clerk lass–”

Ozglow marched into the room, hands full with rolled parchment and the specialized equipment of a foreman, such as a compass and loupe, pens and ink, and a set of acidic vials designed to detect metal purity. Each dwarf stopped talking and stood. Allowing your foreman or superior to stand alone was a grievous offense. He stayed silent and pulled to a stop, distracted by a few extra candle sticks that were refusing to sink into his pocket. He jiggled them a bit, and they finally fell into place. Then he turned to face his miners.

“You’re all suited and ready. Good. The last crew will be up soon, so hop to it! I need three barrels of beer, a box of rations–the ones with the good jerky, mind you–a box of flints and steels, a dozen torch points, some of that Drunder Good Bread, and three lengths of chain.”

He turned to each of them “Azik, you go get the beer–and none of that Sonder Suds swill. Krozlin, you get the jerky and the bread. Rikin you get the odds and ends, and Eorling,” he said as he turned to the new miner, “get the chains. They are two lefts and a right. Well? What in Judge’s hammers are you all standing about for? Go! Get me my equipment, you slow bones!”

Krozlin cackled a laugh and they each hustled off to their duties. Eorling saw that they did not need directions to get their materials, and felt slightly ashamed that he did. He followed the direction, leaving and turning left out of the door, then left again at the nearest intersection, and finally a right. The endless grays of the dusty tunnels could be confusing, but Eorling made sure not to stray from his given path. This led him into an alley full of heavy equipment, including the chains he needed. Each chain length was standardized, being twenty feet long.

The chains were an odd part of dwarven society. Some of them had existed for a long time, helping works for thousands of years. Though it was not difficult for the dwarves to make more, there was a certain love for old chains. Each chain had a history, a lineage. Each one was a chain to the works of their ancestors, both literally and metaphorically,  and some of the lengths here were thousands of years old. In the King’s Peak, there were a set of chains that were over ten thousand years old. They had aided in great constructions and even the killing of great foes, and were venerated by all dwarves.

Eorling selected three that seemed young enough for him to move. Touching or handling older chains was inappropriate for him. He slung one over each shoulder and swayed with their weight. They were heavy, and as he grabbed for the third, he pitched wildy off balance. With a clank-filled crash, he crumpled back against the wall, smothered by the chains. Eorling struggled to stand or wriggle out of the chains; he simply could not muster the strength.

Thankfully, he did not need to call out for help, which might’ve shamed him eternally. A soft voice spoke from the mouth of the alley.

“Hands full then, greenbeard?”

I can see why Mastermind gets "disaster bi". What a great piece! Thank you for putting this together @beanthebugboi ❤️❤️

Canon/Headcanon likelihood chart

So I've been thinking about @macdenlover 's "levels of headcanon" chart (about how heavily a HC is influenced by canon), so I decided to make my own scale about how likely a HC is to be true (including different levels of canon) using queer cartoon characters as examples :)

I just spent an hour making this because I was bored. Enjoy.

Inspiration:

Tumblr

macdenlover

it came to my realization that 99% of my fandom related headaches would be cured if everyone understood this

When you see it, REBLOG IT.

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

If you ever want to talk: My Tumblr ask is always open.

Solid advice even for folk without ADHD. Especially those who have allowed their attention spans to grow short due to the endless stimulation from our devices.

Not to go "if you have ADHD just go for a run" or anything, but I am so serious if you have ADHD you should regularly go outside, no headphones no phone no nothing and just stand and observe for a while until you've had enough. Not until you get bored, until you've had enough. Drink your coffee without watching tiktok. Have a bath without music. Turn down the volume in your headphones. I cannot overstate how much learning to be bored is cruicial with ADHD. Life is not just about pleasure, no matter what your dysregulated dopamine system thinks, and when you teach your brain to be okay with being bored, then boring tasks stop feeling like torture. By letting yourself be bored you are yoinking your system out of the high/low binary and allow for the highs to feel like actual highs and not just anything that isn't low. I am so serious go literally touch grass. Listen to the sounds in your flat. Stimulate your body the way it was designed. It lowers anxiety and makes you feel like you're real and best of all it's completely free