jotfabe

[jotfabe]

https://www.tumblr.com/a-mimic-and-a-jester/741526696625324032?source=share

anyone got that comic thats like they put a butch in a dress as like a makeover or whatever and then theyre like oh god you look uncomfortable okay plan b

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Weird looking racoon

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line sketches. 2025

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Ablative Humanity

An old story about mechsuits and identity, copied from my former twitter account (originally written on August 10th, 2018).

So the war comes, and we have to use mechanical exoskeletons to have any chance of fighting back. They're mind-linked, so you control them by just thinking of moving, and they learn from you to get better, predict your motions, and you become a better fighter.

At first you're just wearing it for when you go out on raids, or when you're on guard duty, but after so many surprise raids you end up wearing it all the time.

it's comfortable enough to live in, and with the sensors hooked up you don't really feel "you" anymore, you feel the suit. After a while it starts to feel weird when you have to take it off for a medical check up.

In the early days, you felt "big" in the suit. now you feel "small" when you take it off. You stop taking it off, as much as possible. towards the end of the war you're wearing it for weeks at a time, then months at a time.

Finally, the enemy is pushed back. Security can exist again, the random raids slowly trail off, and slowly things settle down. you remember what "calm" is.

There's never a treaty, but at least you're no longer staying up for days at a time watching the horizon with the suit's far-beyond-human eyes, watching for an attack. You're no longer keeping a satellite feed up in the corner of your vision, watching for movement.

And the day you were waiting for, at least at first, finally comes. You're going home. The war is over, or over enough that you're no longer needed here. You can take off the suit for the last time, and go back to your pre-war life.

You approach that appointment with some trepidation. you've felt so weak and tiny and powerless when you've had to be outside the suit before, will you ever get used to being a normal human again?

It takes three techs and 2 doctors to get the suit open at this point, given all the armor and modifications that have been made. it's basically grown around you like a second skin, just a second skin that can shrug off high-explosive anti-tank rounds.

They start with computer connectors and migrate to screwdrivers and by the end they're using something that looks like halfway between a crowbar and the jaws of life, while you're busy keeping your automatic self-defense reactions from frying them.

And finally they crack it open, and someone vomits from the smell. There's nothing but a decaying corpse inside.

There's confusion at first, someone asks if you're controlling the suit remotely, but they check the dogtags. Then the DNA. It's you. or, "you". Cause you're you, aren't you? This is just a human body... and you're still alive.

The suit's mind-link systems grew into your brain and took over functionality and worked on emulating your reactions so it could do what you want, better, faster.

And at the same time, your mind did what human minds do: they adapt. Humans are naturally cyborgs, you only have to pick up a pencil to realize that. It's part of your body image, and you think of moving the pencil, not moving your fingers to move the pencil.

So your human mind got more robotic, and the suit's computerized mind got more human. At some point you met in the middle.

And then one day on the battlefield when the biological half died, you didn't even notice. It was just another redundant part, just your ablative humanity.

You're still you. You're not the you that was born all those decades ago, but the you that was built and given life by bonding with a biological "you" that you've since discarded.

It's the Ship of Theseus, replacing every plank and beam as they rot, and there never being a point when it stops being the original and starts being a new thing. You have continuity of self from when you were born to now.

It's just that the Ship of Theseus started as a single-sail wooden ship with oars, and is now an aircraft carrier made of titanium and iron, with nuclear fire in its heart.

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100 year old Galapagos tortoise with a few weeks old Galapagos baby posing for a new family photo, and its own baby photo from 100 years ago.

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A minivan is the most useful vehicle a person can own if I'm being honest and I will die on that hill.

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Fiat Topolino Gallo, 2025. The Italian clothing brand has created a series of 4 liveries for the electric microcar in association with Milan Design Week.

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1$ flea market score. Tiny glass 1960s perfume bottles. I love them.

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Datsun 620 Pickup

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Spent 20 minutes editing the Casino Royale poker scene to be chutes and ladders instead of finishing my English homework.

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Oh crap!

Quick everyone, make a bunch of the weirdest post you can.

No, weirder than that!

Make any execs coming to check our hellsite reel in abject terror.

Become unmarketable!

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You need to print this out and surreptitiously leave it near their workspace.

Work vacuum died. This is the fifth one since I started working here five years ago.

The first one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The second one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The third one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The fourth one died for unknown reasons that involved my coworker vacuuming up rocks.

The fifth one died a few minutes ago and it was a big mystery and my coworker was like “oh I don’t know what happened it just overtaxed for some reason” so I looked inside the hose and—get this—it was jammed with rocks.

He keeps buying bigger and more expensive vacuums and complaining about how shitty and faulty the last ones were and every time I suggest something like “what if you didn’t vacuum up rocks” he’s like oh no it is the vacuums who are wrong.

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