Something Went Wrong

Memory hut working as planned, my dear diary, gentle readers, giving my own (still quite good) memory a physical anchor. A chain between physical and actual Johnny.

Case in point. I've told the joke about how all that radioactive fallout and never-before-seen chemical poisons, toxins, heavy metals, excretions forced upon the Boomer generation. Maybe not the Most Poisoned generation, but for sure the Most-Novelty/Variety-Of-Poisoned generation. 

Thanks to simpering liberal pussy regulations, the air and water are SO much cleaner than when I was a youth, and yet not before Gen X breathed more leaded gas fumes than any childhood generation, Millenials get their PCBs and PFAS and who knows how much nanoplastic. What of Gen Z, awaiting some unknown horror, some time bomb from the Aughts?

See, I've already lost the joke, let me cut and paste it in from this essay.

All those atmospheric tests, all that radiation affecting the brain development of human fetuses, anyone born after, say, 1954, is severely and profoundly retarded. And so, our parents, and older brothers and sisters, have worked feverishly to create a Fisher-Price civilization to accommodate all of us Boomers & progeny.

I told this fantasy at a family gathering once, and got a laugh out of everyone except my parents. They gave me the cold fish eye, and maybe even looked at each other and thought "What do you know, he's on to us".

Idiocracy.

If I brought someone (you!) back 14,000 years ago, people back then would see us as fairies. Light boned, weak , but tall and comely of face and limb. No wings. Not fairies. They would also figure out we are stupid. Not know how to do anything. Don't even know how to make a fire. Don't have all of civilization packed in one or ten skulls. Shitty memories. Easily distracted. We would appear to neolithic humans as human do to Klingons: Klingon children.

You want my conspiracy theory? The most boring day in history, April 11, 1954.

Some kind of cosmic horror shit hit the fan. Who can say what it was but everyone wants to forget. Especially in the USA but It happened everywhere. If you want to call it alien, for common purpose? There was no take me to your leader stuff. Everyone had an alien in the head, talking at the same time.

Am I saying it was aliens? 

I just used that as one example, but Something Happened, or Something Went Wrong, or we are just an angry ghost of a planet. 

Regardless, some people have the skinny on what happened. And those people are looting the Earth of everything, furiously scrambling, and why? Because there's a deadline. And it takes a lot of moneyto get to escape velocity. 

To what end? Death awaits all. All else is memory.

Who will the future remember? Pee Wee Herman.

 

Barbie and the right-wing outrage of supposedly grown men

 My take on the manosphere is that such is the fate of the dickless right. I wrote a prior essay about this, called The Interminable Dicklessness of the Political Right. Feel free to read it before continuing.

I had a discussion with my brother about this. He considers himself a conservative and all the squawking hens on the media are, according to him, not conservative. They are the radical right. The last vestige of the so-called patriarchy.

The term has been bandied about, and though I consdier it a bit simplistic, there is evidence that it is a ephemeral thing, possessed of both imperfection and impermanence. The narrative goes that the patriarchy started with the arrival of horse riding bornze age central asians migrating into Europe. But that is too simplistic an explanation. Archaeological digs of the steppe peoples and their descendants find a lifestyle equivalent to rodeo people today, with all the broken bones and impressive physiques read from their bones. One thing to note is the women are just as busted up and sturdy as the men, indicating no division of labor by sex. Move forward a few thousand years, and my northern barbarian ancestors display a similar lack of division of labor. One can easily find burial mounds of Viking queens as of Viking kings. In fact, Vikings were equal opportunity employers. One can find burial mounds of chiefs who were not ethnically Scandinavia, including one treasure horde found with a viking chieftain of African origins.

Point being the patriarchy is neither permanent nor perfect and situations for the past 99.9999% of human existence shows a shared lifestyle egalitarian and equal.

So, what to make of today's big babies? Case in point: Ben Shapiro annoying little fly was so upset about the Barbie movie that he set dolls on fire. Which means (not unlike Kid Rock shooting up Bud Light cans) he went out and bought the product so he could videotape his temper tantrum.  

What to make of this? Aside from the dopamine thrill of media exposure, I can only think to say fucking grow up. Or move to an island of similar weenies to circle stroke the spot where once your peens existed.

Digital claymation and some loose threads

 Medium by Adobe, formerly Oculus Medium, is a clay-based 3d modeling program. I've used it since 2018 at least. Five years on and like driving the same car I get more comfortable, less afraid, more poised and graceful in economy of movement. The is as close to clay sculpting in meat space but with magical powers. Anyway, it struck me that I had not done stop motion photography using digital clay. I mean, it should be wild Frankenstein light show, but the figure as ground is my artificial rule and ground is everything.

It took me maybe 30 minutes to an hour for one second of video, but you get mindful of how it strings together in time, the space works itself out as you move stuff and take pictures. We forget our brain is a multi-dimensional survival machine. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker, sure, but first and foremost, warrior.

(It's hard to admit we monkeys are so clever. This little monkey singularity of ours, 100 plus years on and waiting, is 100% electricity. This is the magic of the monkey singularity.)

Update: I've got it down to 5-10 mins per second of video through something called pre-production. I have a automatic machine gun of images pre-loaded and then its mindless repetition, which, hey guess what, perfecto for #AI performance. AI is neither A nor I. I said that back in 1987 and no one was around to hear me say it. So I wrote it down and here it is.

Am I going to continue this boring tedious claymation task inside the computer with VR goggles? Fuckers I've been doing stop motion since junior high. Why I never went into the business was not fear of failure, but of mediocrity.

At the age of ten (TEN) I felt I had lost my creativity, I was losing my edge. I found a book at the public library called Lateral Thinking. I read, then skimmed, then just looked at the pictures through the book without really understanding it, but I did get that a joke is logic sideways, on the x,y,z,t,donut axes. The joke is most of what we do,we do autopilot, because, again, survival machines.

A nuclear booster rocket. No fuckiing way anyone would want this, but- If you use an unshielded core, the weight to thrust vastly exceeds chemical rockets. It has been determined that you can cluster nuclear rockets without them setting each other off, and with the cargo shielded by the hydrogen fuel, an easy ground to orbit and back again, 3-4 runs on one tank of fuel. Radiation? Hell yes! One has to worry about anything within 50 miles of your rocket field (not to mention a tidal wave of legistlation to prevent redress from the atomic rocket corporations I'm guessing Nevada passes state laws to open up atomic rocket ranges.. Nevada is the future of US states)

Anyway, with an unshielded thermal nuclear engine core, you are gettting spectacular blue Cherenkov radiation (eyeballs melting? too close!) from spitfire neutrons hitting atmosphere. Those neutrons are sterilizing everything down to viruses and weird proteins for thousands of yards, and it is the most peculiar form of taxidermy known to this writer. 

Your fuel can be the preferred hydrogen, but methane and water will do. The engine is a liberal, of flexible tendencies.  Rocket malfunctions are U235 or U233 fuel getting spit out rapidly decaying to the worst product is Strontium-90 which gets in your bones and has the half-life of the average human being. So, ixnay on the ocket-ray.