#When in reality shits All Gradients Man

[bijoumikhawal]

honestly my hot take is you can end up being culturally Christian if your family is irreligious enough even if all of you belong to a completely different religion, and even if you aren't irreligious being a minority within a majority means the majority culture and customs impacts you, whether you adopt those customs or run from them

[amalgamgooze]

making a text-based adventure game is hard

I've realized that maybe the RPG that I was working on was a little ambitious for what resources I had.

For such limited time (and patience), I've realized that maybe I'll need to postpone any work on a game of such caliber for a bit...

Fortunately, I've found myself enjoying a new genre of games as of late--visual novels and other narrative-heavy games.

"Oh god," you yelp. "My *absolutely-favoritest* blogger has fallen to the clutches of lust!"

Not to worry, my friends. I'm not playing *that* type of visual novel.

I'm talking about Disco Elysium and Kyle is Famous and Night in the Woods.

And I'm also really digging the aesthetic of the Windows PowerShell window I have to use to install Python packages.

"I've got big things planned for this game,"

the foolish never-would-be game dev announced.

"This game will change the industry--it'll change the way the common man sees video games,"

the developer self-awarely pretentiously claimed. They might be a little crazy, but they still knew that changes as big as those wouldn't happen as a result of their little game.

But then I come back down to reality.

Changes as big as those don't *have* to happen as a result of my game.

In fact, I could make this game just for myself.

Nobody else would ever have to play it.

...

But then I'd miss out on all the fun of sharing my works with the world.

I'd miss out on the "what were you thinking here" shared laughs moments,

I'd miss out on the "only someone on drugs would write something like this" compliments,

I'd miss out on all of it.

...

And also making a game of this sort of nature kind of implies I'll be able to get my mom to play *a* video game.

...

Did you know that making a text-based visual novel adventure game is somewhat difficult?

Even if you know how to do classes and object-oriented programming and such?

I've spent a good part of today literally just drawing diagrams of how inheritance of locations is going to work in this game.

Dude. You have to start down at the *text* level and work your way up.

It's... interesting, to say the least.

And I'm sure my methods aren't exactly the best. Yet.

I'm fully prepared to have to scrap it all in favor of a more efficient, cleaner organization method.

...

Prepare for total .JSONification. All things must be JSON.

Everything you love. Everything you hold dear.

I.

Will.

Make.

It.

JSON.

...

Anyway, yeah. I'm going to probably be spending 10 hours a day on average coding for the rest of my life, with my jobs and my hobbies and my projects and my everything.

Fuck, I've accidentally made an interesting image filter for my internship while trying to detect edges using a custom-made gradient algorithm.

That means only one thing--I have the capability to program my own shit for Aseprite and Krita.

...

And it'll all make my art so much easier.

...

And what about music?

What if I make an algorithm that helps me continue the song when I'm stuck and don't know what to add next?

Based on what I've learned in Music Theory?

...

It's daunting that the possibilities are now endless, I suppose.

But at the core of it all?

Where everything began?

...

It was some radical dream in which I so vehemently desired to make a game.

To get my story out there in turn-based RPG form.

A dream that formed well over 7 years now.

And will continue to grow and form.

...

Some radical dream that persuaded this what-would-otherwise-be-just-another-sterile-passionless-STEM-major into taking weird classes like Art and Music Theory and Modern Drama in an immensely passionate pursuit of realizing their insane dream.

You know.

Instead of just focusing on what's important.

...

I could probably be saving *more* lives with more dedication to, oh, I don't know--cancer research? Biotech?

...anything productive?

But instead here I sit, wasting my potential by making stupid games.

...

I don't think my games are *stupid*, per se.

However, when you compare the societal impact of a video game to something like cancer research, well...

I'm just ashamed!

My priorities aren't in the right places, it seems--!

...

But don't try to console me.

I've already convinced myself that even though games might not better society in the same way medical research does, and even though I'm a terrible person for wanting to waste my potential, it's still what I want to do.

Hah.

And so they look in the mirror, at peace with the fact they're a terrible person in the eyes of some.

But in the eyes of others, and even sometimes the same people, they're triumphant.

They're doing shit they physically should not be able to.

They continue to defy expectations.

The logic of the world has gone to shit, and the reflection in the mirror somehow proves this point.

I should not exist in the capacity that I do.

And...

...

I believe I've made my argument that a narrative-based game from me would be, at the very least, interesting.

...

And I totally didn't just have an unprofessional breakdown-rant in typed format.

...

def generateNewBreakdown(self, _subject:str=None) -> str:

...

On an unrelated note, I'm really starting to become attracted to the way Python code looks.

It's not a sexual attraction to the way the code looks.

Yet.

[notmuchtoconceal]

bro, stop. people don't study ideas as interrelated concepts with applicability to lived experience which come to collectively compose templates for etching out your own map of reality, the more you come to see in the intersections and overlaps -- the tantalizing ways contradictions arise solely out of misframings, composing egoic traps -- finer gradients leading you to truths more exquisite and refined.

nah, man.

ideas are largely shibboleths one many internalize and perform with the most fiery piety to cement their place in the in-group. ideas are simply a means for men to escape, not even into thought -- as thought engages with ambiguity, and ideas are tangible suppositions supposed as a consequence of thought, and anyone following a train of thought is not a leader, but a noun the truth of which you can conjugate in your head ... thought being the forging of one's own path, while engaging with an idea remains simply taking a pleasant hike through the well-trodden pathways of another man's country, which once you have accepted by following the trail well, it will be stamped in the mind like on the back of the hand, you having listened so well -- but rather (you understanding now, having been such a good follower who hit the button) directly into action, bypassing thought to launch into the sheer fervor of belonging and acceptance.

when you understand how few people possesses self-concept and so allow their self to be possessed by concepts, you can come to see how many people will simply see themselves as a collection of identifications, things to repeat aloud and hypnotically to potential other members of their various in-groups. you understanding well, in america there being no culture but the work culture, of which the political and meme culture are secondary causes (you all being labor drones for reptiles, regardless of how little you make or don't) you can see the tragedy of mass suppression of consciousness where independent conclusions are not allowed to be drawn, simply for there is no time, no resource, and anyway what's the point? it's all affectation, beauty being class signifiers which arise from wealth. why make yourself a target? always short of hand, you will be reduced to shorthand. the people around you will parrot what can only inevitably be their failings, and you will accept them as the norm. everyone wants to see exceptional people, but only on television or behind a podium, never seated next to them in a park or cafeteria.

wouldn't it be fun to torture them simply by being alive and being yourself? wouldn't it be fun to shine bright next to them simply so their dim eyes ache, so well-adjusted to living in darkness? wouldn't it be nice to see the bacteria scrubbed clean with a flash of those pearly whites, camera flashes ringing brighter than the summer sun? how most certainty excellent would it be to let them know you know they're cowards and liars and there's not a thing they can do because you can outplay them while you speak the truth, they being cellular processes layered down low, no different from bacteriophages always eating shit.

it's okay that people choose to be worse than you. if you being alive irritates dead things, well who's going to dig their holes for them? they want to be given a proper burial deep down. all this rotting in the open air and being picked at by vultures? it's nice for a cozy day on a tibetan mountainside, but this is a costco parking lot.

[siljascribbles]

A doodle that turned into something a lot more detailed than what I originally anticipated. I figured it was still sketchy enough to post here 8>

The famous trash rat on the right still belongs to @routaluonnokset​

Underneath is a little thingy I wrote of this picture. Not too happy with it, but exploring these two in written form is always nice!

Yehochanan stepped outside on Lucian’s balcony, the long haired brunette following closely behind him as he left the door halfway open. Lucian’s apartment was pretty warm during this time of the year so might as well ventilate a bit. Yehochanan stopped right before the railing of the balcony and after looking through his pockets, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He took two cigarettes from the pack and offered one to Lucian.

”You want one?” he asked, already lighting his.

”Oh, sure, thank you…” Lucian nodded, took the cigarette from Yehochanan and looked at it. He had been craving for a smoke all day… Maybe one of these days he’d be able to quit his bad habit but, for now, reducing it was the best he could manage. Yehochanan leaned closer and light up the cigarette in Lucian’s hand, then took a long drag from his and blew out a small smoke cloud that soon faded into the warm summer air. Lucian followed his example and soon felt a calming wave rush through his body, making all the muscles in his body loosen up and relax. That feeling alone was one of the addicting aspects that kept Lucian clinging on to his smoking habit even if he knew how bad it was for him and how it made him feel worse in the long run. The human mind sure was a strange and stubborn thing…

The two men stood in silence for a while and watched over the beautiful city view that opened before them. The sky had turned from a beautiful pink to a deep, inky black color as however many hours had passed – Lucian didn’t know anymore, he had completely forgotten his sense of time many, many hours ago. All the light coming from the streetlights beneath them and the buildings in the distance created a warm, golden and orange glow that blended into the black sky, creating a beautiful gradient. As the duo were multiple stories off the ground, the only noise that accompanied them was a cooling breeze that came and went as it pleased. For some people, the silence was uncomfortable, awkward, and spoke of a lack of connection between people, but for Lucian and Yehochanan, it was quite the opposite. For them, it was a much needed break from their otherwise chaotic and unstable life. And besides, sometimes all they needed was someone’s company, even if the silent kind. And they were fine with that.

”Hey…” Lucian suddenly broke the silence between the two men as he sighed and looked up at Yehochanan who, in turn, replied with an asking look on his face. ”Thank you for coming. I… I think I really needed this.”

”Don’t mention it”, the redhead replied and blew out another smoke cloud. ”I’m glad if my company suffices to ya. And y’know, I happened to be in the area so I thought to come and stop by.”

”How very considerate of you”, Lucian teased with a smirk.

”Well, you know me, the world’s most considerate man”, Yehochanan sighed dramatically and soon the two men chuckled quietly. Silence fell between them as Lucian turned his gaze back to the busy streets below them where he spotted a couple walking together. He hummed silently. Sure, he was only joking around, but it was actually nice that Yehochanan had thought about him and even bothered to come and see him. Lucian enjoyed his company and it was a nice thing to have every now and then, even if Lucian had a hard time admitting that to himself.

Lucian glanced at the redhead from the corner of his eye. He felt like… He could be himself, nothing more or nothing less, in Yehochanan’s company. Both knew exactly what kind of work they were doing, how it almost split them into two different personalities, and they had agreed not to talk about those sides of them. Instead, they had focused on what kind of people they were outside of their work. What they were interested in, what did they like to do in their free time… Lucian liked that. For once in his life, he like he could be just a normal human being instead of a horrible monster, who had taken the lives of so many people he had lost count, when he was with Yehochanan. Moreover, Lucian liked his attitude towards life. He had a tendency to live in the present and, while usually having a lot of going on at all times, he also knew how to take it easy without too much worrying. He had his spontaneous side to him as well, as he sometimes helped Lucian get out of his apartment and explore the city around them. Lucian also liked his sense of humor. It was dry and sarcastic yet surprisinlgy witty. Overall, Yehochanan was a man with a very rough and coarse exterior… Yet, somewhere deep inside of him, Lucian could feel the soul of a good, loyal man. Perhaps that was why he felt so safe and good around him…

”...Is there something on my face? And don’t say my scar - I know. That joke has been beaten to death.”

...Huh?

A familiar voice dragged Lucian back into reality as he quickly shook his head. Shit, he was staring again, wasn’t he?

”Ah, no, no, not all! Sorry, I just… Must’ve spaced out. It happens often”, Lucian sighed and quickly looked away.

”Got a lot on your mind?” Yehochanan asked, raising and eyebrow at him.

”When don’t I…” Lucian groaned and took one long drag from his cigarette before he smothered it in the ashtray. ”Sometimes I wish I could stop thinking altogether. Maybe then I’d actually get some sleep.”

”Yeah… I have my ways for silencing thoughts, but you wouldn’t like those.”

”Is that so? Do I even want to know?”

”Nope.” Now Lucian was really curious, but sometimes ignorance was bliss… That, and he had learned not to ask too much the hard way.

”Well, nobody’s perfect as they say…” Lucian huffed and then turned to face the redhead. ”But even so, I…” Lucian shut his mouth before he could even finish his sentence. He wanted to say so many things to Yehochanan, but the words couldn’t come out – or perhaps they didn’t even want to. He felt an ache in his chest… An ache that wasn’t quite what he usually felt when he was having one of his sudden ”attacks”… It was an ache he hadn’t felt in many, many years and the kind that he thought he would never experience again. Lucian relaxed his fist that he had clenched without even noticing and sighed. ”…I still think you’re a good guy, despite what everyone else might say. Like I said, you even bothered to come here.”

”Didn’t I tell ya not to worry about it? It wasn’t that big of deal, really”, Yehochanan snorted and finally put out his cigarette as well. ”...But thank you, I guess. You’re all right, too.”

”’All right’?” Lucian scoffed. Phew, he bought that. ”I think that’s the most genuine compliment I’ve ever got from you.”

”Oh, fuck off”, the redhead huffed and smirked. ”Anyway, shall we go inside?”

”Sure”, Lucian nodded. Yehochanan already stepped inside when Lucian still hesitated, his hand on the door handle. The ache in his chest was still there and it seemed like it wasn’t going anywhere soon.

He would have to talk about it with Yehochanan at some point. He wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret forever.

Lucian sighed and closed the door after him.

But not yet. Not that night.

[hellyeahomeland]

“Useful Idiot” | Directed by Nelson McCormick

The first stop on Yevgeny’s BMW-sponsored trip through the mid-Atlantic is the airport hanger. This scene gave Gail “Long Time Coming” vibes and it gave Sara “Super Powers” vibes. People on this show sure do fly private a lot!

It’s here where the Yevgeny/Carrie parallels start. Committed to the mission, willing to leave behind Simone (with whom just a few minutes ago he was daydreaming about a month-long sex-filled getaway) but not willing to leave behind “his guy.” There are many echoes not only of late-season four Carrie, unwilling to leave Islamabad before she can find Quinn, but also of all seasons Carrie. Yevgeny is the most evenly-matched adversary Carrie has ever known (although, ironically, she’s never actually met him), created in her own image of “mission over man.” And this episode gives a laundry list of reasons why.  At the end of the scene, he says, “I can’t!”--a familiar refrain to all of us who have followed Carrie’s journey.

Sara had a slight panic attack when she saw this moment. One of the most disturbing moments of “A False Glimmer” (and there are many) was Carrie digging her fingernails into her palm in the hospital chapel. Here she is, doing it again, underlining the similarities between the situation she found herself in at the end of season five with Quinn, and the one she stands in now with Dante.

Dante’s BMW Journey continues. Look at how focused he is. He is all about the 10 and 2, ain’t he? Real talk, you can really tell a lot about a person by the way he drives.

While Carrie and Yevgeny are evenly matched and remarkably similar, their approaches to dealing with Dante couldn’t be more different. Let’s start with body language. Carrie stands over Dante, looking down at him, just after he’s woken up. She is incredulous and forceful and passionate. She practically wills him into flipping.

Oishk. First, Carrie, please find a hobby that is not this. You just sociopathically lied to the dude you POISONED and now you’re smiling in your car about it??? Girl, please. Also, the music that played over this was stripped-down, season one-era Homeland theme. You know the one. This is like the old school Carrie smile so I guess it fits.

(Sara would also like to point out that she was right on Sunday about Carrie smiling meaning that everything was about to go to shit.)

(Sara would additionally like to point out that, removed from context, Carrie certainly does look like a little button here, doesn’t she?)

This goob is also smiling like it’s 75 degrees outside for the first time in six months. Saul and Carrie, please find NEW HOBBIES. Preferably separate ones.

We will hand it to Saul. We didn’t think he’d be able to create a Power Point presentation on such short notice and with such neatly organized graphics. He even did a gradient background! We call BS on Wellington not being labeled a “UI,” but everything else looks pretty nice. (Wasn’t O’Keefe a UI, too?)

So many facial expressions this episode! Here is Max looking from Carrie (on his left) to Sandy (on his right), who are sparring about whether to use the burn code. Some men just know when to keep their mouths shut.

The set decoration of Paley’s office is really something. We spy:

Not one but two American flags

Possibly a Dilbert cartoon on the bottom right corner of his bookshelf?

A Washington monument replica

A bust of someone

A set of bullhorns

A cowboy hat

The decoration here is verging on caricature, but we also don’t doubt that Paley wants everyone who walks into his office to know he is a ~maverick.

Ok, so we skipped forward from Yevgeny’s BMW road trip (we don’t have much to say except homeboy should invest in a Bluetooth). We want to note how similarly he’s dressed to Carrie here, again really underlining the parallels the show is drawing between them. He’s got the black coat, leather jacket, dark pants, and boots. This is the Official Carrie Mathison Uniform. He’s also got the “surreptitiously looking around corners” look down pat so we’d say he’s well on his way.

We touched on this a bit on the podcast, but the scene as Carrie is leaving Maggie and Bill’s house is filmed with a handheld camera (after being steady when she arrives home). The ensuing shakiness here amplifies the instability of the situation and seems to precipitate Carrie’s loss of a grip on reality.

While we’re at it, we’ve also been thinking about the stained glass in Maggie’s entryway. Gail is convinced it’s intentional, a kind of marker of the sanctity of that household and just how much Carrie has disrupted order there.

Hop sighting!

Is this the moment Yevgeny decides to shoot Clayton? Look at the calculation going on there behind the scenes. The plot of this season has been successful in a lot of ways, but Costa Ronin deserves all kinds of credit for bringing Yevgeny to life in such vivid, dynamic, unpredictable detail.

In an episode in which Carrie is shown later with blood on her hands, it should come as no surprise that her foil wipes blood on his own. The “hands dirty” motif has weaved itself throughout many seasons of the show. Back in season two, Dar accused Saul of not wanting to get his own hands messy; he’d rather have others do his bidding. Carrie, meanwhile, try as she might, can’t help but get her hands dirty. And here we have Yevgeny, practically volunteering for the task.

After once again sneaking into a locked ward in the hospital (sometimes our most powerful enemies are hidden in plain sight; Yevgeny--and Russia IRL--has proven that to be just the case this season), Yevgeny takes a seat in Dante’s room. His posture and demeanor here is identical to how he’s been several other times this season, whether it was with Ivan or Simone’s lawyer. He’s casual, (now clean) hands folded demurely in front of him, feet out in front. He wants you to know he’s got nothing to hide. Contrast this of course with the way Carrie approaches Dante earlier in the episode. She was hovering, loud, and lying. Yevgeny is calm, quiet, and completely honest.

Sara’s note here was “if we are talking Carrie/Yevgeny parallels, he does what we all thought Carrie might have done at the end of ‘A False Glimmer’ by smothering Quinn.” Gail’s response was “WHOA, mind blown.”

The last three minutes of the episode play like a nauseating horror movie. This shot of Franny ushers in that feeling. Seriously, this is creepy as hell. Actors looking directly into the camera make us deeply uncomfortable.

Can’t get much more literal than this. She runs the stop sign, of course, but its message is blaring nonetheless. It’s what the audience is feeling and what everyone around Carrie has been trying to tell her since the season started.

There were a few shots in this sequence of Carrie squinting her eyes at the blaring sun. We’re not sure if this is a reference to Quinn’s light, her “beacon,” but in an episode that evoked his memory in more ways than one (and the fact that we hear those words at the beginning of every episode), it’s hard to feel like it was completely coincidental.

The sound editing during the sequence of Carrie walking through the hospital is impossible to capture visually, but we just want to note it anyway. It was impeccable. We hear the din of the crowd at Brody’s hanging slowly build, then her cries as she climbs the fence. While the flashbacks move to Aayan, we can still hear those crowds. And then the hail of bullets come in. It was unsettling (to say the least), but technically remarkable. They really throw you into Carrie’s head here, and the cacophony of her own memories replaying in her head is such an integral part of that.

That sensory immersion is visual, too, though. Once Carrie’s flashbacks start, she walks through hard, vivid overhead light (contrast with the shot above, right before the flashbacks start). This is remarkably similar to the lighting we saw in “Marine One” when Brody was in the bunker. Then, it was meant to evoke the stress and instability of the situation, and it accomplishes a similar feat here.

….And, here’s the blood on the hands. Interestingly, our focus here is mostly on Carrie’s face, as she stares directly into the camera (again, gosh, that’s so unsettling). Contrasted to Yevgeny, whose bloody hands took up the entire frame, it’s almost easy to miss. Then again, maybe that’s the entire point.

The episode ends, of course, with another sequence that also belongs in a horror movie. The slow push onto Carrie, backed up against the wall. The shaky cam, rendering her face blurry and unfocused. And her screams, sharp and high-pitched and seared into your memory, eventually indistinguishable from the flatline of Dante’s pulse.