GoatOnPony's recent activity
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Comment on A 2025 survey of Rust GUI libraries in ~comp
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Comment on Is it possible to completely hide one’s activity on the Internet from one’s ISP? in ~tech
GoatOnPony Link ParentDNS over https is pretty common now afaik. I think it's on by default in chrome and Android so I'd assume it's also on for most OSes and browsers. It's often called secure DNS or private DNS in...DNS over https is pretty common now afaik. I think it's on by default in chrome and Android so I'd assume it's also on for most OSes and browsers. It's often called secure DNS or private DNS in the settings. I'd choose Google or Cloudflare with secure DNS than an ISP's DNS if it's not encrypted.
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Comment on Tildes Monthly Writing Prompts! (April 2025) in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentThank you for the ping and for picking up the writing prompt mantel!Thank you for the ping and for picking up the writing prompt mantel!
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-03-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentUnfortunate that there wasn't continued traction, but thank you for running it! I enjoyed each of the months and think it's been really helpful to get me to write outside my normal stuff!Unfortunate that there wasn't continued traction, but thank you for running it! I enjoyed each of the months and think it's been really helpful to get me to write outside my normal stuff!
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-03-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony LinkCreepy fantasy about the worst kind of parent. Length: About 1500 words CW: death, corpses, License: All rights reserved but feel free to leave a comment/direct message me if you'd like to use it...Creepy fantasy about the worst kind of parent.
Length: About 1500 words
CW: death, corpses,
License: All rights reserved but feel free to leave a comment/direct message me if you'd like to use it for something and I'll consider updating to a CC style licenseCuckoo's Nest
The fire is set at the base of the cottage's walls. Torches nibbling and biting at its ankles, angry little toddlers with bright arms reaching upwards towards the wooden eaves like they want up onto a parent's shoulders. I had watched the mob stay at a fearful distance and throw the torches, their frailty causing them to miss the roof. It will take some time for the fire to climb the walls which gives me some time to think. But perhaps not long enough - the little wisps of smoke start the countdown to conflagration as they infiltrate cracks in the earthen bricks. From between the slats in the window's shutters I can see the light of more torches flickering a cautious distance away while they run to fetch the priest. I wonder which parent will succeed first, me or their priest. They are uncouth and clumsy critics of my parenting and they dare to strangle my children while they are still in their crib. I turn my back to the window and focus on my soon to be newborns. Crouching, I stroke the long hair on the beautiful corpse at my feet. Nothing yet. Damn.I sweep my eyes across the single room cottage, truly taking it all in for the first time. It's a meager affair; the little table with shelves, the hearth with smoldering fire, and mud brick walls with simple adornments. So meagre and austere. I chuckle at my parental compunction to judge how my children choose to live and my heart warms with how much better I will provide for them. How they have struggled and persisted against the forces of the world that I will conquer.
On the wall there's a rough sketch - drawn quickly with loose hatch marks but a fine attention to detail. It is a homely scene of the cottage and my soon to be daughter as she tends to the garden. Amazing that a few marks can trick the eye into seeing neat rows of herbs. I remember seeing them on the way in, but now the garden is almost certainly trampled to death by the mob. It is truly a shameful display of neighborly love to ruin someone's tenderly cared for plants. Long years of effort wasted in an instant. Thankfully there's no need for it now or ever after. My children will instead only need my purest love to sustain them.
The fire's heat is rising up the wall and beginning to seep through; it curls the edge of the page. I can't have my child's drawing burned, so I pry the nail holding it from the wall and stuff the art into the inner pocket of my great coat. I turn to my boy, who is suspended across the single room, pinned to the wall where I impaled him. I'm across the room in a flash. His cold fingers are rough but I know the hands of a fellow artist, delicacy and dexterity in the muscle fibers despite the calluses of peasant life. I'm so proud of him. I entwine my fingers with his and then I adjust the pitchfork stuck through his chest to make sure that it won't be easy to remove. How long will the birth take? The mob's patience is finite and I can't protect my children forever, they'll need to face the world themselves.
A smell reaches me. Not the blood, though there's a lot of it; not the fire, though smoke is now pooling about the rafters; it's the odor of stew rich in fat. I'd not noticed it in the earlier frenzy but on the hearth near my pretty girl is a pot beginning to bubble over. Spatters of fatty broth burp over the edge and slosh onto the floor. I can't have my child scarred now! It would ruin her beauty forever. I dart to it and snatch the pot off from over the hearth. I stick a finger into the boiling stew and lick the sizzling stock from it. Delicious. Cooking, that's an underappreciated skill - least of all by me. Along the top of the stew is an unctuous and thick layer of fat from what must have been some freshly hunted rabbit. Arguably a tad overcooked, but that may just be my palate's preferences. I croon at her that she'll learn my tastes soon enough. Her lifeless face stares back. Slinging the hot pot under my arm I carry it to the wooden table that dominates the room. A mirthful mood is capturing me so I mutter to myself that I should set the table, maybe invite the mob in for supper. They surely would appreciate some warm stew after standing in the cold night. I begin to do it, the thought is so captivating. A bit of hospitality to show such crude and impudent people that they should just embrace my patronage and parentage.
As I pull the bowls and spoons from the shelves my fingers run over the rough whittled implements. The little crags and nooks speak to the hours of work to produce just one simple spoon; the countless knife strokes gouging little chips out long into the night. The final imperfections showing the hand of the artisan, the grain the history of the tree branch it came from, the stains the humble life of stew and lips. I feel the sublime nature of God in it. He has guided these peasants to make something so imperfect to remind me, his most perfect servant, of the humility one must possess to carry out his will. From the ultimate Father I've learned all that I will pass onto my children. God made me in his image and so my children are made in mine. I make the sign of the cross and his presence warms my skin with fiery prickles. It is the only heat I still feel.
I notice the fire has reached the rafters. Or perhaps the mob expedited the process with more accurately placed torches hefted onto the roof. This is a disaster! My children will burn up and no one will be able to appreciate my efforts. They have already taken my other children from me and chased me from my home. I must rebuild. I will start again with this two children here, that God caused me to stumble upon in my darkest hour. Why has God not released their souls back to me yet? I pace as doubt and panic encroach like the flames surrounding me, but no, I cannot waver. Tests of faith require resolve and it is through such perils we come to understand our true nature. The mob at the door cannot best me in matters of faith even as their priest begins his preparations. They cannot best me in matters of patience; as a parent of hundreds, my patience is infinite.
I pull a chair from the table over to my daughter on the floor and sit down; the smoke is beginning to cloud my vision and close off the world. It's just myself and my stillborn children now. A rafter collapses down and strikes my shoulder. I toss it aside and stir a whirl of ash and sparks. Some falls down on her pallid face so I stoop down to protect her and brush it off. My fingers graze her face. Please don't leave your parent alone in this angry world. The fire and mob I can withstand, but those damnable priests need more than what I can muster alone. I pray and kiss her forehead. There's a little flutter of the eyelids, nearly imperceptible through the smoke, and I smile. There's just enough time remaining before the priest's work will complete. I pull the drawing from my pocket and a finely gilded fountain pen along with it. It takes just a few quick marks. I add myself to the drawing. There I am, joining in on the pastoral life of farm tending, there with my children. My youthful boy twitches and then thrashes, perhaps an automatic, vestigial reaction to the fire engulfing him, fire which won't harm him anymore. Joyous births!
It's important to deal with newborns one at a time so I ignore his violent thrashing and crouch down to my lass. Parental love fills me as I see my eyes reflected in hers. Beastly eyes, the eyes of a predator, of one who will hunt the night peer up at me. They are calculating and sharp. With a practiced flick I cut myself on the pen's quill and offer her my blood. My daughter rises and bows to me. My son, rebellious in youth, requires some convincing so I twist the pitchfork until it presses like a stake against their heart. I show him the drawing which confuses him long enough to force the blood onto his lips. He calms and smiles, so I remove the pitchfork and the wound closes quickly. The cottage is ablaze as we leave it, finally strong enough to fight back. The priest's shout of "Begone vampi-" is cut short by my children as they have their first feast.
I struggled a bit with the prompt, so I don't know that I really met the intent of it. Hopefully it's still in bounds enough :)
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Comment on Professional writer endorses short story written by OpenAI's new creative writing model in ~books
GoatOnPony LinkSetting aside the ethical and philosophical issues for a moment, I liked it? It's not the best thing I've ever read, but I didn't regret reading it either. It had some thought provoking imagery...Setting aside the ethical and philosophical issues for a moment, I liked it? It's not the best thing I've ever read, but I didn't regret reading it either. It had some thought provoking imagery and poetic phrases that stuck with me for a few minutes.
Setting back the ethical and philosophical issues, I hated it? This was time and attention taken away from reading works by other people to have some alien intelligence attempt to pull on my feelings. I'm not ready to be bombarded on all sides by this content with all value and political ideology likely directly controlled by some oligarchs.
As someone still struggling to get better at writing (thanks to TheMeerkat's monthly writing competition threads!) I have very mixed feelings...
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Comment on An appeal to the community for non-algorithmic recommendations in ~talk
GoatOnPony Link ParentI mean, my personal favorite Greg Egan books are actually permutation city and diaspora, soooo... Permutation city is an interesting thought experiment about consciousness, free will, and the...I mean, my personal favorite Greg Egan books are actually permutation city and diaspora, soooo...
Permutation city is an interesting thought experiment about consciousness, free will, and the nature of time. Basically, if your mind is just one state moving to another, why must those states be sequential or in order? Then take that premise to the extreme.
Diaspora is relatively tame in comparison but it's a great examination of post humanism and what the purpose of humanity is.
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Comment on An appeal to the community for non-algorithmic recommendations in ~talk
GoatOnPony Link ParentAnother Greg Egan book focusing on non-Euclidean space is Dichronauts. As with any Greg Egan book its an absolutely wild premise done by someone who actually did the math behind it to know that it...Another Greg Egan book focusing on non-Euclidean space is Dichronauts. As with any Greg Egan book its an absolutely wild premise done by someone who actually did the math behind it to know that it works. I can't really explain the physics behind it that well, but the gist is that certain directions convey light and orthogonal directions convey sound because the curvature of the universe is a 'saddle' shape with a world positioned right on the saddle point.
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Comment on Digg is relaunching under Kevin Rose and Alexis Ohanian in ~tech
GoatOnPony Link ParentBrainstorming: what about the ability to post under a throwaway name but allow a ban/moderator action on that throwaway to remove the underlying accounts ability to post with new throwaways. I...Brainstorming: what about the ability to post under a throwaway name but allow a ban/moderator action on that throwaway to remove the underlying accounts ability to post with new throwaways. I think there are interesting topics where throwaways are useful but I agree that it shouldn't be a mechanism for ban evasion or be the default.
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-02-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentThank you for the kind words and feedback! I really struggle as a writer to let my works breathe and have the reader inhabit the space for a while. Next time this event happens (please add me to...Thank you for the kind words and feedback! I really struggle as a writer to let my works breathe and have the reader inhabit the space for a while. Next time this event happens (please add me to the @ call out!) that's something I'll work on :)
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Comment on Tildes worldbuilding thread in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentI kinda have a list, but it's very barebones in my notes still since it's intentionally my "I will not try to do anything with this" world and as a result is the least fleshed out. A random-ish...I kinda have a list, but it's very barebones in my notes still since it's intentionally my "I will not try to do anything with this" world and as a result is the least fleshed out.
A random-ish sample of areas in the world:
- Fruits & Vegetables. Each fruit is associated with a noble house which has dominion over some element of society related to magic power while the vegetables act as the broad labor base that supports them. Some example powers: poison (apples), gene manipulation (pluot), produce acid (citrus), cloning (banana), control vines (grapes), thorns (blackberries), grow to large size (melon), body transformation to a task (brassicas), strength (spinach - yes this is just a Popeyes reference), stamina (corn), etc
- Power tools. Region filled with dinosaur-esque beasts which have amalgamated with power tools. Humans who get the regions magic experience similar modifications - think chainsaw man if you're familiar with that anime.
- Toys. Vast megadungeon with magic often warping the persons behavior. Eg. conscription into endless conflict (tan vs green army men), controllable entangling hair and clothes (dolls), ability to build and reshape the nearby environment but typically follow specific eldritch plans (legos)
- Meat. Summoning and necromancy magic. Biological experimentation is the norm
- Alcohol. Mind control which results in cults trying to get ever higher 'proof' individuals via larger and larger sacrifices.
- Guns and bullets. Magic takes a group of people and one person is randomly made the gun, the rest become bullets. The gun's magic is to kill anyone in their line of sight, but each time they do so one of their bullets also dies.
For stationary I don't have anything yet, but my brain jumped to: control over memories. Imagining dark rituals where master book binders carve secrets into the bodies of 'pages' with sword-pens which seal the secrets from the mind of anyone else. The book binders live in richly muraled mansions which chronicle their deeds. The society is heavily based around favors and the exchanging of ornate cards as the 'currency' of getting things done.
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Comment on Tildes worldbuilding thread in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentI think resources will come down a bit to what interests you and what purpose the world will serve. If you're building a D&D campaign that's very different from putting together something for a...I think resources will come down a bit to what interests you and what purpose the world will serve. If you're building a D&D campaign that's very different from putting together something for a graphic novel. Some haphazard advice and resources to explore:
- Look into ttrpg worldbuilding games - these are niche games which you can typically play solo where they give you prompts to help flesh out parts of a world. Examples: beak, feather, and bone; microscope; artefact; ex novo; etc
- If you're familiar with playing table top RPGs - become a DM and follow the advice in channels like mystic arts. Being a DM will ensure that you create something each week and help focus what you need to create
- If you just want to exercise your brain then my suggestion is to install obsidian or any other knowledge graph software and set aside 10 minutes each day to think of something new or expand on an existing idea. Use random tables (often found from TTRPG spaces or just random dictionary words) if you need a seed for freeform association. I have a huge list of categories (music, architecture, warfare, language, social relations, creatures, locations, etc) that I put ideas under and try to flesh out for various worlds. I genuinely just enjoy trying to think of tweak, exaggeration, or extreme extrapolation of our world, eg. "only liquid foods", "cars never invented", "corporate jobs awarded based on battle", then expanding on them over time or seeing if they can be put into one of my existing projects.
- For speculative biology/conlanging Biblaridion is kinda off the deep end but you might be able to find similar channels
- For other tools besides a notes app, you can look at world anvil
One property of worldbuilding is that it can't be completed, there's always more to add if you want to. That can become a trap if you want to actually use the world for something or it can be liberating - stop worrying about 'finishing' and just add whatever is interesting.
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Comment on Tildes worldbuilding thread in ~creative
GoatOnPony LinkOh my, I love worldbuilding! Perhaps too much since I tend to create new settings rather than do much with them (although I am trying to get better about it). Since I've got a fair few worlds...Oh my, I love worldbuilding! Perhaps too much since I tend to create new settings rather than do much with them (although I am trying to get better about it).
Since I've got a fair few worlds knocking around in my obsidian notebook I'll just leave some brief summaries for each and if folks are interested they can reply and I'll give more detail :)
- Beyond the Awakening - All of humanity across the galaxy awakens sans memories and surrounded by extraordinary technology that they can no longer manufacture. Rivaling factions like the Last Kingdom of Mankind, lead by super powered humans, and the Confederation of Independent Worlds, who are the only ones to possess FTL ships, spread out to rediscover and "help" all the lost worlds. This is one of my first worldbuilding projects and has been a FATE campaign setting for my partner and I over the last 6 years.
- High Winds - Humans live on floating islands which rise up from unknown depths below the clouds and spiral around an eternal storm. Setting is mostly focused on the ecology of the islands and how humans interact with it, eg. bacteria that produce hydrogen to keep things afloat, people graft plants into their bodies, what energy rich but land starved industries might produce. My plan (long on hiatus) is to use this for a graphic novel setting where a swashbuckling crew would be sent to investigate some new dangers rising up from the clouds below.
- 100 Years Adrift - Human terraformers spend millennia terraforming a planet but right before completion they lose contact with Earth, leaving them now on a world overbuilt. The human society is divided into three parts who engineer the social, biological, and material world and all have conflicting views on how to proceed. The focus is on the tension between the engineered (fit for purpose but often overly rigid) and the natural world (chaotic and wants to change). All of the creatures on the planet are bioengineered to accomplish specific tasks. This setting was used for a novella that I need to heavily re-edit and might try to expand into a novel some day.
- Superstore - Humans are shrunken down and live inside a gigantic magical dilapidated shopping center/grocery store. Each area of the store contains unique magic that humans can pay (price might range from taking many peoples lives to just a few bits of food) to be imbued with magic that corresponds to that area. Some random examples: apples - create poison (cyanide), bananas - morph into a clone of every other banana, alcohol - sacrifice others and gain mind control powers, etc. I use this as a thought exercise space where I pick some object that can be found in a store and maximally anthropomorphize it: what magic would it have, how would someone dress to represent it, what kind of society would it have, how would it relate to other similar items, etc.
- Hallowed Ground - A nation goes and steals heaven from the gods, chaining it to the ground. From this they can harness many magical powers, but the gods regularly create and send giant magical beasts to try and retrieve it. This has resulted in a world simultaneously ravaged by the magical beasts everywhere but the central city around the Hallowed Ground and experiencing an industrial revolution of sorts as slain magical beasts become a source of power and sustenance (think like 1800s whaling). This is my current project where I hope to turn it into a TTRPG book based around the wild words system.
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-02-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony LinkThanks for running this! I really appreciate the effort and it's been great to have something to push me to write more frequently. The story is a fantasy/alt-history set of diegetic excerpts...- Exemplary
Thanks for running this! I really appreciate the effort and it's been great to have something to push me to write more frequently.
The story is a fantasy/alt-history set of diegetic excerpts carrying forward the titular phrase through time.
Length: A little over 1000 words
CW: death, state violence, single sentence reference to sex work
License: All rights reserved but feel free to leave a comment/direct message me if you'd like to use it for something and I'll consider updating to a CC style licenseOnward peasants, to judgement and death
"Onward peasants, to judgement and death," said King Grelhord, Ruler of all the land on Heaven and Earth. As they commanded, it was done - of the petitioners for life, not a one would be granted. Judge Leweng read them their sins and the red cloaked executioners swung the long blades through each neck. They measured the process in the number of executioners needed, one replacing the next. The long thick red cloak dyed with death taken off and passed to the next as arms and blades became worn down. When the cloak became stiff with blood, the King's Prestige supplied a light rain to soften it. By such mercy did the act progress quickly, so it was with great surprise that a peasant protested before their allotted time to petition. A peasant shouted, hands and feet bound but mouth unsilenced, "Please, I've got family to see. Pass your judgment quickly so I can get out of the rain." It was Judge Leweng who stalked through the rows of crouched petitioners and pronounced, "Your petition is denied. But lo, you have been judged worthy of the King's mercy," before plunging their dagger into the neck of the protestor. As the peasant gasped and died, there was a great ruckus as many clamored for a similar mercy and were granted it.~ Extract from the Histories of the House Grelhord referring to the punishment given to 300 peasants for failure to pay taxes.
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"Onward peasants, to judgement and death
Onward soldiers, don't save your breath
The King killed three hundred I hear
Now it's off to war within the yearOnward peasants, to judgement and death
Onward pensioners, they steal our wealth
The King's tax wasn't paid
Now it's our funds they raidOnward peasants, to judgement and death
Onward workers, sapped of your strength
The King worked them to the end
Now the owner's only pretendOnward, onward, onward
Soldiers, pensioners, and workers
Onward, onward, onward
Soldiers, pensioners, and workers"~ Work song which spread among the non-prestigious class in the year 477 leading to work stoppages. Due to the war, this was suppressed with vigor by the Royal Executioners Brigade led by the Prestigious Captain Crey who was awarded the Silver Grel for their actions. The cost to marshal the Brigade was graciously paid for by the owner of the Wool Rock Company, Ist Corrat, who was granted the Prestigious class for their contribution.
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"We are the judgement and death". The basement glows under red halogen lights, bathing everyone in a single overpowering color - red, blood red. After the ritual greeting the Fraternal Order of the King's Men comes to order. Sweat trickles down under my mask, tickles at my brow, but removing it would be an unwise risk. The fake, and frankly ahistorical, Judge's mask isn't the only thing protecting my identity, but it is probably the most important. I have no intention of testing whether the executioner blades are as dull as they look. Or whether the assembled know how to wield them. The lithe and pretentious man who takes the stage and dons the ceremonial fibers: the rock wool cloak is one you are likely familiar with from our prior reporting. Three generations separates Mr Corrat from the factory owner who was made Prestigious for paying to bust heads, but the demeanor and bearing remain the same, I'm sure. The same vitriol and disdain persists. Hatred at a status they never actually held being taken away. Heaven and earth I do not wish to convey to you, reader, the words that are uttered at these meetings. Perhaps I should if that would stir your hearts to condemn them? On the other hand, perhaps these folks are just missing something that condemnation would freeze out forever.
~ From an expose by the journalist Fae Leweng covering the Fraternal Order of the King's Men. They would be found murdered later that year.
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> narbon_plague: onward :peasants:
> narbon_plague: judgement :hammer: :mask: and death :death: :sword:
> iamcat123: :death: :death: :death:
> fartgun: :death:
"Chat, calm yourselves."
> xxX_rCloack_Xxx: ONWARD PEASANT, DO BETTER
> xxX_rCloack_Xxx was warned for all caps
"This game is hard, I'll get it though. Don't lose your heads."
> xxX_rCloack_Xxx: haha
> fartgun: :laughing: :sword: :death:
> anonopus: stupid presty playing as a red cloak
> anonopus: why play this stupid game
> anonopus was timed out for 300 seconds
> xxX_rCloack_Xxx: damn dude its just a game, chillax
"Heaven and earth, chat, that was a joke. No one is coming for your heads. Let me enjoy the game - it's fucking fiction"
> fartgun: :caught:
> iamcat123: enjoy what you want
> narbon_plague super boosted this message: don't let the haters get to you~ Recording of streamer playing legendary game Carrion Crey which won game of the year despite controversy for its portrayal of the titular character.
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The immersive art installation "Onward" presents the modern world in stark imagery. From the moment you enter the virtual environment the exhibit presents you with investigations into people both real and imagined and gives you a simple command: "judge". As you explore their lives, you will realize the autonomous art agent is weaving you into their lives, closer and closer. Eventually, before you can realize the transition has happened, the agent has you replacing the person entirely; putting you directly into their position. Swing the pick, lithium miner. Fuck the customer, sex worker. Stir the chemical slurry, electronic waste recycler. In the end you must judge yourself, but only one choice will ever be presented - "death" - and you'll look down to see the red cloak embracing you like a straight jacket. That the exhibit is opened across from the House of Judges is a bold proclamation by the artist.
~ 4/5 star review by anonymousFuck this artist
~ 1/5 start review by anonymous#
On the crumbled plaza celebrating Captain Crey, graffitied with the lyrics which they tried to erase, three hundred thousand are gathered to hear speeches before they march on the House of Judges and to give it their verdict. A wreath hangs for a dead journalist. An art gallery across the street hands out first aid kits. Among the signs and smoke and teargas the final words are spoken in the final speech. The people, rulers of all the land on heaven and earth, begin to chant, "Onward peasants, to judgement and death."
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Comment on Kagi search introduces Privacy Pass authentication in ~tech
GoatOnPony Link ParentThe thing to search for is 'blind signatures', they are a very cool cryptographic system! A client can blind a message (often just random bytes) and get back a signature for the blinded message...The thing to search for is 'blind signatures', they are a very cool cryptographic system! A client can blind a message (often just random bytes) and get back a signature for the blinded message from a signer. The client can then unblind both the message and signature and present them to another entity for verification. The important property being that only the client sees and can link the blinded and unblinded message and the signatures for both. So even if the signer stored the exact message they saw and signature they returned, the verifier sees a completely different message and signature. Yet they can still ensure that the signer did in fact sign the blinded message.
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Comment on What have you been watching / reading this week? (Anime/Manga) in ~anime
GoatOnPony Link ParentYour rating system reminds me of my own internal one which is that I have a plugin for controlling the playback speed. Basically everything gets watched at a rate of 1.25 to 1.75 (at 2 I'd only be...Your rating system reminds me of my own internal one which is that I have a plugin for controlling the playback speed. Basically everything gets watched at a rate of 1.25 to 1.75 (at 2 I'd only be able to read the subtitles and it feels like a complete waste of time). The worse the anime, the faster the playback. S tier is 1x, good is 1.25, mediocre is 1.5, trash is 1.75.
I feel like there's a lot of ok premise but weak execution this season in the isekai/generic fantasy space. I kinda hope the genres/tropes there are on their way out and we might be able to get more variety in the future.
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Comment on What have you been watching / reading this week? (Anime/Manga) in ~anime
GoatOnPony LinkNow that the first few episodes of the winter season are out I'm starting to coalesce on the few that seem worth following (at least on Crunchyroll): Zenshu: Mappa studios new anime, so the...Now that the first few episodes of the winter season are out I'm starting to coalesce on the few that seem worth following (at least on Crunchyroll):
- Zenshu: Mappa studios new anime, so the animation quality is really good. The story is unique and interesting but so far a little too on the nose.
- Solo Leveling Season 2 I read ahead in the Manhwa quite a ways and I'm looking forward to this season. Animation quality is pretty good so far.
- The Red Ranger Becomes an Adventurer in Another World There's a lot of weird concept, mediocre execution fantasy/isekai this season for some reason. This one is at least pretty funny IMO
I've not yet started watching Apothecary Diaries season 2 because I know that once I start watching I'm going to need a few episodes to satiate. Hopefully it's as good as the first season.
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-01-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony Link ParentThank you immensely for the kind words and for taking the time to read it! Your comment is now saved for when I need a rainy day self esteem boost :DThank you immensely for the kind words and for taking the time to read it! Your comment is now saved for when I need a rainy day self esteem boost :D
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Comment on Creative short story writing contest—prize for winner! (2025-01-07) in ~creative
GoatOnPony LinkSubmission: The Shortcut Content Warnings: None that I can think of Hope you enjoy it! Story here You're standing on a makeshift stage in someone's backyard. An expectant crowd shushes as they...- Exemplary
Submission: The Shortcut
Content Warnings: None that I can think of
Hope you enjoy it!
Story here
You're standing on a makeshift stage in someone's backyard. An expectant crowd shushes as they beacon you to say something. You don't know what to say. So you start from the beginning.One year ago you looked down at the pouch of your stomach, remembered the latest disdainful look from the too young checkout attendant, and doom scrolled through too many too expensive Ozempic ads. Jogging it is, then, you thought. The back of the closet yielded a pair of snug running shoes with your ex's note still attached. The donate-or-rags bag of clothes that'd been building steadily for years produced some athleisure wear that was all the rage five years ago. An unopened dusty package in the garage contained one of those ultra bright LED lamps that you'd meant to give to your nephew as a present. You grab the spare set of noise cancelling earbuds that form an integral part of staying sane at the office. The assembled tools sat in the entryway to your suburban home. The initial energy of collecting them mollified the bits of your brain saying "just fucking do something", so there they lived for a few weeks. One day after a sleepless night, in the wee hours before dawn, you yanked the clothes on, tightened the shoe's laces till they hurt, clipped the light onto your chest, popped the earbuds in, put a podcast on, and headed out the door.
You stepped straight into the maze of cul de sacs and identical houses. Harsh circles of bright from streetlights form a network of liminal spaces stretching off around the corner. You had no destination in mind; there was no real destination that could be reached on foot. So you started to jog. You follow the slow twists and turns, picking forks at random, and doubling back frequently when they turn into dead ends. At some point you passed the school, the dog park, the grocery store, all quiet and closed in that pre-dawn time.
When the exhaustion finally caught up to you and you stopped to look at your phone, the map taunted you. A mere thirty feet separated you from home. Thirty feet of someone else's lawn between two houses. The map reported two miles along sanctioned roads to get home instead. You'd jogged further than you thought, further than you wanted to do again. Pristine and dewy, the lawn enticed your feet which ached from pounding along the concrete. This was someone else's property though. Crossing through it would be trespassing. Collective imaginary lines sheared the world into individual inviolate places. Those lines were important. You toed the line furtively anyway. New sweat broke out on your brow from the anxiety of transgression. It was dark, darker now after you switched the LED light off. As though switching the light off made you invisible. No lights came from the house. Could you even have made it home if you didn't take the shortcut? Certainly the risk of collapsing was a higher need than property law. So you cut through the yard. A quick five seconds and you made it home. And when you ran the next day, drawn inextricably to the same spot by the winding contours of fate and the whims of some crazed architect, you walked across the imaginary boundary again with less trepidation. It soon became your regular shortcut.
You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about desire paths, the trails people create when the built environment asks for a circuitous path.
You didn't notice the kids until you had already jogged across the lawn. They stood there on the sidewalk looking tired and miserable, heavy backpacks and little sleep. Their dimmed eyes regarded you and deemed you non threatening. A simple suburbanite going for a run. You didn't even realize kids lived here. A car pulled up and they piled in, headed to school. As the boxy cage trucked the kids off you caught them looking towards where you had come from, your shortcut. A pang of fear as you hoped the kids wouldn't rat you out to their parents.
You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about the lack of autonomy for today's kids dependent on their parents to get anywhere.
While running one pre-dawn morning your light bobbed across a new poster among the mishmash of lost pet wanted signs and long over yard sale ads. You didn't pay it much mind at first but the posters kept appearing on power poles along the route. Comic sans boldly exclaimed "Robbers among us hunting for your valuables! KEEP YOUR HOUSE LOCKED!" You slowed down to check if it included any details but it kept to vague testimonials of people looking into their houses at night. You never had anything of value and ignored the missives. But when you noticed a cop car sitting next to a curb, you felt disquieted and watched. You slowed to a walk and tried to calm your heartrate. You were a criminal, however minorly.
You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about the fear mongering about cities and crime rates despite them largely being safer than ever.
Months had passed. The idea and fear of transgression had long faded and you ran towards the shortcut, shielding the light without even fully turning it off. It was thus a surprise to feel not grass or the mud patches which had begun appearing but something hard. Your hand fell away and let the light spill across the ground. Hard pavers sunk solidly into the ground greeted you. The tingle of realization tickled the part of you which remembered that this was breaking the law. Your mind raced to fill the other side of the lawn with cop cars and drawn guns ready to blast you away for your heinous actions. But the other side presented nothing more than the empty street. You held off running for a few days, a vague paranoia that arrest was right around every corner. But soon you're jogging again anyway.
You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about how communities can build their own networks of support and improvements to the neighborhood.
The dog greeted you so cheerfully as you passed through the shortcut, wagging its tail and prancing around you. It darted up along the pavers to the other side and off to meet its owner a ways up the street. Anxious about meeting people, especially amongst this illegal foray you sped up and nearly tripped over the donation cabinet. It was a wooden set of shelves dolled up with colorful paint and already full of items. You use it as a bit of cover to slide out of view before the dog walker approached and headed through the shortcut.
You jogged while listening to podcasters talk about how to practice mutual aid to help each other and provide basic necessities.
It was just last week when they were there as you came jogging up. The kids were on their bikes with school backpacks after having just crossed through the shortcut, anxious to be on their way to classes. The angry gesticulations from someone you didn't recognize waved the poster around with an additional bundle of them tucked under their other arm. The homeowner was in their pajamas, pissed at being woken up early. As you approached they turned and launched into explanations, tirades, and platitudes as though you were some arbiter of things. You pushed your hands up in a defensive measure and side stepped them all, ran past and through the shortcut - cut the Gordian knot by feigning confidence and normality.
You sat inside while fretting, a doom scroll feed on stand by.
When they knocked on your door you thought for sure this was the cops to come haul you away. Instead it was some city official and the home owner. They said that the homeowner had agreed to have the shortcut turned into an easement controlled by the city with a new sidewalk to run through it. Even more shocking they told you they'd like you to speak at the opening ceremony, which is why you're here speaking today.
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Comment on MasterCard sells my transaction data in "anonymised" form; but I get targeted spam related to credit card use. How does it work? in ~tech
GoatOnPony Link ParentA major issue in this space is that different entities use the term 'anonymized' for very different privacy bars. A common definition of anonymized is just 'I removed the unique identifiers of...A major issue in this space is that different entities use the term 'anonymized' for very different privacy bars. A common definition of anonymized is just 'I removed the unique identifiers of name/email address/ip address etc'. This is a very weak approach and there's been many examples over the years where the other fields in the dataset (even if some aggregation and randomness is applied) were sufficient to link back to individual users. It's only been somewhat recently that better approaches to anonymization have appeared which better match the colloquial idea of anonymization. The main approach being something called differential privacy, which is a set of aggregation techniques that provably bounds the probability that adding or removing any single person from the dataset would be detectable. This is the technique that for example the US Census adopted in the most recent census. Applied properly it provides very strong protections against re-identification, but it can also add a lot of noise and removes outlier rows. It's what I'd consider the gold standard for anonymization and anything else is basically just marketing or security through obscurity.
My conjecture is that writing a new imperative UI framework just isn't worth the effort vs creating bindings to an existing framework. New frameworks need some hook especially when competing against well established systems.
Separately rust's reference rules probably push towards avoiding shared state or at least obscuring it from developers. Imperative UI code often has a lot of mutable references being accessed from a wide variety of locations