#but its not mentioned ONCE

[l-alan-l]

They could have mentioned Isha at least once!!!

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[grayeet]

I love the pale garden and how it's like a parallel to dark forests. I love how the two divert expectations.

Dark forests, despite their name, are saturated and full of life. Even compared to regular forests, there's a lot more biodiversity than many of the "basic" biomes. There's three whole different trees found there, giant mushrooms, and plenty of flowers. They're one of the biomes capable of spawning a lush cave underneath it. It has its dangers just like any other overworld biome, obviously, but it's nothing overly more than anywhere else. Traversing it can be tricky sometimes and illagers may take residence in the biome's woodland mansions, but it's ultimately a very colorful and lively environment.

Opposing it is the new pale garden. Usually white and light colors are seen as pristine and good, but the pale garden takes it the opposite direction and goes right into uncanny valley territory. It has none of the color of dark forests, none of the biodiversity, none of the liveliness. It has trees and moss that look familiar, but something is off. It has a signature mob, but even the creaking is just a puppet of the trees, not really sentient, not really even plotting against anything. There's "life", but, once again, it's wrong.

I think the pale garden is a wonderful addition to Minecraft's world building as it is, but the deliberate parallel to dark forests? Delicious.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ooh, you want to know what happens at the gay bar run by ex-pirates, ooh...You'll just have to read Tiger Tiger to find out...

(Inspired by this Disco Elysium comic)

[sameboot]

Paraphrasing again buuut I wanted to try illustrating this scene!

[mochirizu]

hey chat what if clementine was real

quick clarification!! there's a running gag in ouaw that torbek is in a supposedly failed ish relationship with a cardboard cutout so i was like 'hey what if she was real and not made of cardboard and they were happy' because dammit he deserves it

[draculaflow3]

[rottengurlz]

she’s like if the virgin mary smoked a pack of pall malls every day 🚬

[thenxthird]

i started at my new job so that means they r also employed

full sketch page vvv

[mamawasatesttube]

yknow how sometimes dogs will hunt things and be like look i did so good!!! yayyy i got you this!!! bc theres a comedy story in my mind in which krypto decides he likes kon's friends and wants to give them presents too! and. well.

krypto leaves a dead bird on tim's pillow and tim goes oh shit fuck is this an oblique threat that someone's discovered my identity as one of the bird-themed heroes in gotham? but then why's it a fucked-up looking pigeon and not a robin or a rook (if youre like me and like tim taking on the name rook later)??????? and why is it so mangled and burned what does it mean is this a threat of a specific way someone wants to kill me?!?! who could it have been from?! when did someone even break in and why didn't they trip any of my alarms?!?! fuck i have to cancel my plans with kon and bart later shit i don't even know how i got compromised so i don't dare see either of them in public i don't want to risk them--fuck fuck fuck how did this happen i don't understand and why is it a pigeon and

meanwhile krypto is just like. :3c i did so good i am SUCH a good dog i leave him presents :) yayyy!!! i even cooked it for him. with heat vision! yaaayyy!!

so tim phones up kon like "listen we can't meet up this weekend i'm so sorry i think i've been compromised--" and goes on about how he needs to go on lockdown alert mode until he figures out what happened and who found him out and meanwhile kon's just. go back. the pigeon. describe that again.

tim describes the fucked up mangled burnt pigeon. and kon, who has dealt with his fair share of Superdog Presents and thought they'd come to an understanding about "krypto you can't do that you'll DECIMATE local wildlife" and such, just narrows his eyes. turns to the dog bed next to him. goes ……………………….. krypto.

and krypto's like :) wag wag wag :) yes thats me :) wag wag :) im good dog :) he is SO pleased with himself. thats one mystery solved!

this ends in tim, haunted, sitting at the farmhouse kitchen table while ma frets over him and makes him hot chocolate, kon wraps him in a blanket, krypto licks his feet, and lois is just like. yeah. been there. just be glad it wasn't sea monsters.

[hinamie]

for @cherryys who (rightfully!) hcs lategame megumi as having a bunch of scars befitting his status as resident punching bag

[skunkes]

[jadecantcreate]

gideon sketch i couldnt help but color and render — a little wink (at kremy, naturally)

[cubbihue]

Does Mr. Turner like rubbing his “son’s” successful career in Dinkleberg’s face??

He does! He brags about Timmy's success to every person within the neighborhood's vicinity. Mr. Turner loves how successful his son is! It really secures his reputation at the neighborhood HOA meetings they host at their house.

Timmy's worked very hard to gain more successes than failures. The more successful he is, the greater his family's social standing!! And the less he gets to overhear his dad ranting to the neighborhood about his failures.

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[surreal-duck]

some business to take care of

[taw-k]

I love domestic Avengers with my whole heart. Showing that they're not just superheros but people too. People that make stupid jokes and love their families and get sick and fail and have parties and mess around and act like children sometimes.