#my other cartridges I fixed its just this one

[avian-synth]

ok might be taking advantage of all my classes being cancelled indefinitely because everything's underwater due to the biggest flood we've had in history to record my utau voicebank

... after I finish mourning my Pokémon White 2 cartridge that we found in the water and will not run anymore 😔

[pparacxosm]

hunger is ugly

(blue-eyed son 3 !! which, as any third and final installation of a franchise ((back to the future and spiderman withstanding !!!)), is obviously the best one; i’m only half kidding; homeless era!patrick zweig x jaded businesswoman!reader; see parts one and two; tw eggnog; tw coworkers; cw smut but nothing crazy; if you’re seeking closure don’t hold your breath; i’m sick of these two; they clearly don’t know what they want; and i refuse to take blame; tw fitted sheets; tw cocaine talk)

He once told you he couldn’t wear a suit. I couldn’t, he’d said, I’d look ridiculous in a suit. But he cleans up quite nicely, actually.

In fact, he looks good, and you’re not above admitting that. He looks better, actually. Healthier. And he looks handsome in his casual blazer and charcoal linen slacks. Oh God, are you gonna look frumpy beside him?

“I’ve always wanted to go to an office Christmas party,” he says.

You’re on the floor before him, straddling your full length mirror, and all your tumbledown, halfway gutted makeup products are strewn wildly about you.

Your bed, behind you, is a skeleton state, too. When he’d come over, he’d nearly laughed at the fact that you’ve apparently been so busy, your clean bedding is still sitting in a laundry hamper in the corner of the room, and you’ve been sleeping in the inserts on a bare mattress for who knows how long.

Patrick doesn’t pass judgment on the mess in your apartment. He still feels he owes you in some weird, kiss-the-hand-that-fed-you sort of way.

You’re not a slob. You always look put together when you leave the house. You’ve just had to focus on work. You can’t stumble at the finish line. Or… the glass ceiling. Or the penultimate rung on the corporate ladder. Whatever. If you can successfully execute this next product launch, who knows what other doors might open for you. Probably doors in buildings very similar to the one you’re already working in. But that’s nothing to sneeze at. Every morning, you see your reflection in those immaculate windows.

So anyway, it shouldn’t matter. Things just get away from you sometimes.

Patrick’s standing above you pensively reflecting how many undone buttons says Corporate Shindig Eyecandy (Please Give My Date That Promotion) as opposed to Reformed Tennis Heartthrob. His shins are sort of bracketing your hips.

“Well, it’s half an office Christmas party, and half—like—a congratulatory… thing. For Deirdre’s successful proposal,” you murmur, leaning forward, tugging your temple to flatten your eyelid and flick on your liner.

“Aw, what?” he frowns, “Deirdre? We fucking hate Deirdre.”

You laugh. You try not to delude yourself, not to let these moments exist in some flowery vacuum in the eye of your mind, not to ask him to fix your bedding for you. But it’s hard.

Whoever let Sam replace the DJ halfway through the party was either a genius anarchist or too drunk to care.

You know it’s probably the latter. You down the cognacheavy eggnog from your glass and make a disgruntled face. You don’t know what you expected. Shania Twain is belting from the speakers while Sam wiggles his headphones in a dumb, awkward dance.

He’s pretty funny, all things considered, but you’d still like nothing better than to whack him up the head with an ink cartridge.

One of the blousy interns from your department is haplessly flirting with Patrick, pretending he bumped into her and made her plash some eggnog on herself, but she’s trying to be selfaware about it.

“Oh gosh, isn’t this such a cliché: the boss’ plus one wiping a dairybased drink from the subordinate’s—… oh no, I know she’s not technically my boss, but she’s sort of my senior within the company, like on the general corporate ladder, argh, I know, I hate it!”

She could’ve said superior, you think, instead of senior.

You’re feeling too pissy to go and save him from that failed interaction. You turn your back to the crowd and look out of the glossy black windows. That chorus keeps stomping its pointed heels over your fragile nerves.

The best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun!

Do you have a little fun? Are you a Good Time? You have to laugh. It’s just a stupid song. But you need the validation.

That’s why Patrick picks the wrong moment to come and talk to you.

“Hey, this chick is chasing me with a napkin around the room.”

You snort. “Not my problem.”

Patrick leans against the buffet, delivering a wry salute when Sam points at him from the DJ booth and winks. “That guy’s something,” Patrick chuckles, “He asked me to sign his dick.”

“Did you?”

Patrick hums like he’s ambivalent and places a large hand on the small of your back. “Would that be good for you, if I did?”

“I’m fun, right?”

You swirl the remains of eggnog in your glass. You ask the question like he’s been holding out some big secret from you.

Patrick blinks. He scoffs in disbelief, but also smirks pointedly at your glass. “You’re asking me?”

You stare at him through the briar lace of your eyelashes. Everyone who’s met him today has had their own lashes drenched in laughter. You hadn’t realised it first. You’d figured those were mutually exclusive things, downandout charm and the breathing room of comfortable success. But no. He’s charming, anyway. It’s just that he’s not haggling for scraps of generosity anymore so much as he’s lapping at the fleeting dregs of likability. And you hate that you notice that, and you hate that you notice him, that you know him, in a sense. Because what are you supposed to do about it?

“Everybody loves you. Just… be objective.”

Patrick still laughs. He rubs his stubble. He should’ve shaved this morning. He thought he was doing something for you, something nice, by coming with you to this thing and wooing everybody’s pants a little tighter, but maybe he’d missed the mark. “You know I can’t be objective.”

“Why not?” You sound petulant, leaning angrily against the buffet. You’re old enough to know what he’s saying, of course. He’s being nice. He’s telling you he thinks you’re fun, that the rest shouldn’t matter, but then he doesn’t need anything. Even when he had nothing. So he wouldn’t get it. He wouldn’t notice.

Patrick tilts his head and narrows his eyes in that way he does when he’s vivisecting you, then clears his throat. “You’re drunk.” He laughs again, a little gratuitous. Then, after a while, “I have fun with you. You’re engaging.”

“Engaging?” you echo, frowning. “Seriously? What am I, an essay?”

“No, I just— Jesus, what do you want me to say?”

You clench your jaw. Okay, you are drunk and you’re at this office party from hell and a hard rain’s a-gonna fall, so goddamn it, he will call you fun.

So you get right into his face. You’re good at that, even if you barely reach his shoulder. “Tell me I’m fun, because I am, and you think I am.”

You try to swat his hand away, but his palm stays put, a hot magnet just above your tailbone, and he doesn’t even look like he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just that he feels an emptiness in his stomach, depressing but also thrilling. Like taking a hit. Like you’re a little bag of white powder. Beyond the dark windows it starts to snow. He used to do a bit of coke, when everything around him dropped dead and started to rot, and he couldn’t stomach the smell. He doesn’t seem like the poster kid for moderation, but the coke was good, and he didn’t let it be any more than that. In fact, at times, the coke was great. The coke was fun. But he couldn’t live with the coke. You understand? He couldn’t settle down in New England and raise a cat with the coke.

“I don’t think I can win with you,” he murmurs, and, for his part, he at least sounds like he needs to change that.

It’s supposed to be a comfort fuck—and you call it fuck in your head dismissively—but it’s too raw and unknown. You’ve spent so much time in this questionable relationship with existence in his life. In and out. You thought you’d learned him, or at least learned the both of you, but his hands on you, his mouth on you—it’s frightening, finite, foreign. Somehow divorced from this man who, for all his egofueled casual mania, doles out intimacy like free samples.

This is what it feels like to watch him unravel, but it’s not just beggar’s desperation. No, he’s making room for someone else beside him in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

He keeps touching every part of you, frantically, trying to feel all of you, sinking his head between your thighs with a groan of relief, immersing himself in another body. But not just any body, because he keeps mouthing your name. As if to remind you that he is here, and you let him in. Because it matters that it’s you, that someone who knows him is letting him in. He’s humming to himself as you come against his fingers and mouth.

... hunger is ugly... souls are forgotten... I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it...

You like his full weight on you, sinking you into your undressed mattress, trapping you, suffocating you under his bottomless gloom. He has one hand on your thigh. He lifts it at an uncomfortable angle, sinking his cock deeper into you, making it ache. How does he know you like that, anyway? He doesn’t. He noticed.

You want to resent what he’s doing here, which is trying to ‘win with you’. Because he’s been on a winning streak, and you’re not about to spoil that.

And these demeaning, mechanical thoughts probably aren’t reflective of his inner monologue at the moment, but it’s easier to believe he doesn’t respect you than to contend with this whole thing.

You want to tell him, you don’t know what I like, but he starts talking about this tournament. There’s a match in Boston, for real this time. You’re having trouble paying attention.

You fall asleep with him still inside you, head on your chest, and you, crushed comfortably by his weight.  

You wake up before him. He must have rolled off you in the middle of the night. He’s sleeping next to you, one hand stretched towards you, head on the pillow at a strange angle.

You turn away quickly.

You sit on the edge of the bed, breathing in and out, staring at the heap of his cocktail wear on the floor. You feel sore and stupefied. You feel cramps in your muscles. You feel weak in the best and worst way possible. You keep breathing in and out, hoping you’re keeping quiet.

But he wakes up anyway.

You can feel his gentle eyes on the slightly hunched line of your back.

“Hey.”

“Morning,” you mumble, throat dry. Why does it have to be morning? Why does it always have to be morning?

“Come back here,” he says, as if it weren’t morning.

You shake your head softly.

His silence is edifying. It goes on for too long.

“You’re not gonna stay, are you?” you ask, serious and formal, gripping the edge of the mattress. You clench your jaw, body taut.

You can hear him swallow, throat working to get the syllables out.

“I’m not, like… leaving you.”

You close your eyes.

“No, I mean—yeah,” you chuckle miserably. “You’re probably doing the right thing. The best thing for you.”

You feel the tears slide out one by one, and your shoulders shake slightly.

“Please don’t cry.” He’s using that soft and primordially tentative voice he uses with your cat. “I’m not worth it.”

You look over your shoulder at him. “Then why is it so fucking hard to watch you go?”

It’s only recently you’ve started getting angry with him. You used to get grudgingly amused, perhaps vaguely reproachful, but now his stupid face just makes you livid.

His eyes tremble pensively. “I don’t know. But that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You turn your head away, rolling and wiping your eyes at the same time. “I just don’t see how it could work.”

And there’s a door he could open for you. There’s something he could say at this juncture to reassure you, momentarily, that it could. But he can’t bring himself to lie, because he cares about you too much to take a bump of that powder.

He hangs his head and looks at the beautiful line of your back, memorising it.

Then he gets up.

“I’m gonna make coffee, then we can get that fucking fitted sheet on, alright?”

You nod absently. You don’t turn to look at him as he puts on his clothes.

He comes up to you before he leaves. He runs his finger under your chin and lifts it up. There’s a kitten scratch on his cuticle.

You could come watch the match.

But he doesn’t say that. You haven’t seen him play since New Rochelle. “I’ll fill the demon’s bowl. I think she’s starting to like me.”

You laugh, wiping more tears.

Patrick takes that hand, your hand, wet with tears, and brings it to his mouth. He kisses and licks the salt away. He keeps it there for a moment longer than he should. You gently pull away.

You only exhale when he’s gone.

Toby slinks out from behind your mirror, swishing her tail back and forth in contempt.

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, shut up,” you whisper.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon Alexa is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

If you own an Alexa, you might enjoy its integration with IFTTT, an easy scripting environment that lets you create your own little voice-controlled apps, like "start my Roomba" or "close the garage door." If so, tough shit, Amazon just nuked IFTTT for Alexa:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/10/25/23931463/ifttt-amazon-alexa-applets-ending-support-integration-automation

Amazon can do this because the Alexa's operating system sits behind a cryptographic lock, and any tool that bypasses that lock is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that it's literally a crime to provide a rival OS that lets users retain functionality that Amazon no longer supports.

This is the proverbial gun on the mantelpiece, a moral hazard and invitation to mischief that tempts Amazon executives to run a bait-and-switch con where they sell you a gadget with five features and then remotely kill-switch two of them. This is prime directive of the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

So many companies got their business-plan at the Darth Vader MBA. The ability to revoke features after the fact means that companies can fuck around, but never find out. Apple sold millions of tracks via iTunes with the promise of letting you stream them to any other device you owned. After a couple years of this, the company caught some heat from the record labels, so they just pushed an update that killed the feature:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/10/30/apple-to-ipod-owners-eat-shit-and-die-updated/

That gun on the mantelpiece went off all the way back in 2004 and it turns out it was a starter-pistol. Pretty soon, everyone was getting in on the act. If you find an alert on your printer screen demanding that you install a "security update" there's a damned good chance that the "update" is designed to block you from using third-party ink cartridges in a printer that you (sorta) own:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Selling your Tesla? Have fun being poor. The upgrades you spent thousands of dollars on go up in a puff of smoke the minute you trade the car into the dealer, annihilating the resale value of your car at the speed of light:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/23/how-to-fix-cars-by-breaking-felony-contempt-of-business-model/

Telsa has to detect the ownership transfer first. But once a product is sufficiently cloud-based, they can destroy your property from a distance without any warning or intervention on your part. That's what Adobe did last year, when it literally stole the colors from your Photoshop files, in history's SaaSiest heist caper:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

And yet, when we hear about remote killswitches in the news, it's most often as part of a PR blitz for their virtues. Russia's invasion of Ukraine kicked off a new genre of these PR pieces, celebrating the fact that a John Deere dealership was able to remotely brick looted tractors that had been removed to Chechnya:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Today, Deere's PR minions are pitching search-and-replace versions of this story about Israeli tractors that Hamas is said to have looted, which were also remotely bricked.

But the main use of this remote killswitch isn't confounding war-looters: it's preventing farmers from fixing their own tractors without paying rent to John Deere. An even bigger omission from this narrative is the fact that John Deere is objectively Very Bad At Security, which means that the world's fleet of critical agricultural equipment is one breach away from being rendered permanently inert:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john

There are plenty of good and honorable people working at big companies, from Adobe to Apple to Deere to Tesla to Amazon. But those people have to convince their colleagues that they should do the right thing. Those debates weigh the expected gains from scammy, immoral behavior against the expected costs.

Without DMCA 1201, Amazon would have to worry that their decision to revoke IFTTT functionality would motivate customers to seek out alternative software for their Alexas. This is a big deal: once a customer learns how to de-Amazon their Alexa, Amazon might never recapture that customer. Such a switch wouldn't have to come from a scrappy startup or a hacker's DIY solution, either. Take away DMCA 1201 and Walmart could step up, offering an alternative Alexa software stack that let you switch your purchases away from Amazon.

Money talks, bullshit walks. In any boardroom argument about whether to shift value away from customers to the company, a credible argument about how the company will suffer a net loss as a result has a better chance of prevailing than an argument that's just about the ethics of such a course of action:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Inevitably, these killswitches are pitched as a paternalistic tool for protecting customers. An HP rep once told me that they push deceptive security updates to brick third-party ink cartridges so that printer owners aren't tricked into printing out cherished family photos with ink that fades over time. Apple insists that its ability to push iOS updates that revoke functionality is about keeping mobile users safe – not monopolizing repair:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

John Deere's killswitches protect you from looters. Adobe's killswitches let them add valuable functionality to their products. Tesla? Well, Tesla at least is refreshingly honest: "We have a killswitch because fuck you, that's why."

These excuses ring hollow because they conspicuously omit the possibility that you could have the benefits without the harms. Like, your tractor could come with a killswitch that you could bypass, meaning you could brick it at a distance, and still fix it yourself. Same with your phone. Software updates that take away functionality you want can be mitigated with the ability to roll back those updates – and by giving users the ability to apply part of a patch, but not the whole patch.

Cloud computing and software as a service are a choice. "Local first" computing is possible, and desirable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

The cheapest rhetorical trick of the tech sector is the "indivisibility gambit" – the idea that these prix-fixe menus could never be served a la carte. Wanna talk to your friends online? Sorry there's just no way to help you do that without spying on you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/08/divisibility/#technognosticism

One important argument over smart-speakers was poisoned by this false dichotomy: the debate about accessibility and IoT gadgets. Every IoT privacy or revocation scandal would provoke blanket statements from technically savvy people like, "No one should ever use one of these." The replies would then swiftly follow: "That's an ableist statement: I rely on my automation because I have a disability and I would otherwise be reliant on a caregiver or have to go without."

But the excluded middle here is: "No one should use one of these because they are killswitched. This is especially bad when a smart speaker is an assistive technology, because those applications are too important to leave up to the whims of giant companies that might brick them or revoke their features due to their own commercial imperatives, callousness, or financial straits."

Like the problem with the "bionic eyes" that Second Sight bricked wasn't that they helped visually impaired people see – it was that they couldn't be operated without the company's ongoing support and consent:

https://spectrum.ieee.org/bionic-eye-obsolete

It's perfectly possible to imagine a bionic eye whose software can be maintained by third parties, whose parts and schematics are widely available. The challenge of making this assistive technology fail gracefully isn't technical – it's commercial.

We're meant to believe that no bionic eye company could survive unless they devise their assistive technology such that it fails catastrophically if the business goes under. But it turns out that a bionic eye company can't survive even if they are allowed to do this.

Even if you believe Milton Friedman's Big Lie that a company is legally obligated to "maximize shareholder value," not even Friedman says that you are legally obligated to maximize companies' shareholder value. The fact that a company can make more money by defrauding you by revoking or bricking the things you buy from them doesn't oblige you to stand up for their right to do this.

Indeed, all of this conduct is arguably illegal, under Section 5 of the FTC Act, which prohibits "unfair and deceptive business practices":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

"No one should ever use a smart speaker" lacks nuance. "Anyone who uses a smart speaker should be insulated from unilateral revocations by the manufacturer, both through legal restrictions that bind the manufacturer, and legal rights that empower others to modify our devices to help us," is a much better formulation.

It's only in the land of the Darth Vader MBA that the deal is "take it or leave it." In a good world, we should be able to take the parts that work, and throw away the parts that don't.

(Image: Stock Catalog/https://www.quotecatalog.com, Sam Howzit; CC BY 2.0; modified)

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

[kbs-and-fds]

Yo, Welcome to my photography blog!

This is a photography project with a focus on older digital cameras sold before the mid 2000s. I've been working with these sorts of cameras since 2022, which grew from my interest in retro computers that I have had since 2020 or so. Here, I'll introduce you to my cameras, my computer rig, and try to convince you that this is a cool hobby.

General Q & A:

Whats in the name? - Kb refers to Kilobyte, all of the photos I take with these cameras only take up a little over 100 Kilobytes of digital storage per photo. FD refers to the physical media the photos are stored in, currently one camera uses floppy disks (FD), the other two use compact flash (CF) and smart media (SM) cards. unfortunately, their shortened forms do not rhyme and so they do not matter.

What can I expect from this blog? - amateur photography using old cameras, I guess. I'll say some nonsense below each photo but you're free to ignore it. I don't plan on reblogging anything here, so don't expect that. I am the star of this blog. me me me. I tend towards finding weird buildings/architecture, "liminal spaces", sunsets, and generally trying to see how well I can make a photo look like a blender render in a Kane pixels video. don't expect any consistency, though. the medium will remain the same but the vibes will absolutely fluctuate with my mood. I'll try and tag things correctly if it's off putting.

Are you a cool person? - I tend to be! I don't want this place to be alienating for anybody but assholes who don't deserve to see the stuff I do. being a tumblr blog, I follow a lot of the standard stuff. jerks are not welcome and I'm not gonna give you the pleasure of an argument if you do turn your head round these parts.

who are you? - trans pan girl. takes pictures. listens to Femtanyl. much unlike Peter Parker.

My Cameras

Mavica FD-7

released in 1997, this was the second of Sony's "Digital Mavica" line of cameras. it records photos of around 50Kbs in size to a standard 3 1/2" floppy disk. it has some standard features like a manual focus wheel, 10x optical zoom, and exposure control. I haven't found a strict source but I believe this camera is less than one megapixel. I actually have a few different Mavica cameras (a fd-71/75/83/85/87 and a cd-1000) but they aren't different from the fd-7 enough to justify being used often. I'll make note on individual posts if I use 'em at all.

Kodak DC220

released in 1999, with a quality of exactly one megapixel the DC 220 is a weird little thing. it has custom software, connects to a computer via com ports with a transfer speed of ~11,000 bit/s. (roughly 30-60 seconds per photo in my experience) you can add custom text to your photos in the cameras built in software, and attach custom audio to each photo. it is a pain in the butt to get working, but it's quirks make it worth the frustration.

Olympus E-10

made in 2000 with a quality of a whopping four megapixels, the Olympus E-10 is the newest addition to my collection, and possibly the nicest camera I'll ever own. it's a fixed lens DSLR camera capable of 4x zoom, you can easily adjust the aperture and exposure on the fly, it's photos tend to be a whole 100kb in size (1/10th of a megabyte!) and to be entirely honest I have no idea how to use it. but I will eventually!

My Computer

I try to use all era-appropriate tech to transfer photos and do any edits, this is the computer I do all that processing on! its a Dell Optiplex gx1- the daddy of pretty much any computer used in public schools (Chromebooks don't count) It's got a Pentium 3 CPU clocking at 500MHz, 512mb ram, running windows ME. it has all the original Kodak DC220 software installed, and I can't really access the Kodak's photos any other way. I've also got a few other weird bits attached to it -an HP sketch pro cad tablet and an external data cartridge SCSI device. both work, but I don't really bother to use them, they just look neat.

that's about it. have a good one! thanks for reading this all, if you did.

[cupcraft]

Ranboo rebrand stream important stuff in one single post!:

if anything i missed pls rb and add on!

chat etiquette! They are going to be more strict with this (but not for new chatters honest mistakes).

Ban 101 -> the number 1 rule:

racism, antisemitism, homophobia, transphobia, discrimination. Instant ban, no excuse. Even bigoted jokes! 0 tolerance! you will be banned from even viewing the streams. This even counts on doing it on other streamer's chats/platforms if found out!

More rules: be funny (please!) and chill and kind and use emotes (including BTTV), dont spam chat (will be fixed/enforced bc of past issues),

other tidbits/news:

the vtuber/stuff will evolve over time, there are different vtuber outfits/costumes planned (ex they have an mcc outfit already!), the room in the background will change, they will be reaching out to ppl for collabs (feel free to recommend people but do not spam their chats!), planning to do more irl streams (will be weird/experimental and they will go wild! They will be making weird stuff!), they also have plans that they are excited to tell and its been a long time coming (this may be the cake video but i couldnt tell in stream), ranboo bakes a cake 2 will be coming TOMORROW on youtube (23 mins and incredible! they laughed at themself), ranboo plans to do experimental stuff on youtube (they have gotten into film lately!), founder's cut of gen 1 of genloss will be coming out 2-3 months ?? date/end of year, the vtuber ranjacket will be a part of the merch drop prototype at vidcon (physical jacket!), will be doing competitive/events with people (like organized little thing) (content/what it is undetermined) and he wants it to be obscure and random, ranboowaslive will start to ramp up a bit (more clips/compilations to come esp if you dont enjoy long vod watching), ranboo will be eating a nintendo DS cartridge live on stream (a joke!), MORE SURPRISES KEPT AS A SECRET + tiny plans in the works, they are moving into the new place/still have boxes to unpack (vtuber lore), he may finish the last of us part 2, subathon (really like back to back fun streams/long streams/playthrough of long games like omori) in january probably, splatoon may return,

What does the new era mean/qna stuff?

talking about old content is fine as long as you recognize that it is the PAST and not the kind of content ranboo makes now. Do not "put them back in the box".

Vtuber: will not be used all the time. They will do facecam streams too. Depends on how he feels.

why the r800: the 8 looks like a b LMAO

this is just the start of rebrand. He will re-establish a lot, things will be easier to find/reorganized, slowly over the weeks things will be changing.

what will happen tothe alt twitter (ranaltboo)?: new pfp, same energy (see below my shitty sc). art creds to mochi!

not only just a rebrand for him and the look of the content. But also it is a rebrand of how they act around and view their own content. they may not be as in the community as he has been (liking fanart/in chat/etc.) out of recommendation from people! If ranboo needs to be aware of something THEY HAVE PEOPLE to make him aware of important issues/emergencies and they will be focusing more on themself and the content overall. they are thankful to be allowed to do this, as they dont want to keep seeing things they dont want to see/have that anxiety. Less scrolling = more content!

They will probably have longer streams again!

will move to more mature jokes/phrases and may have content labels on the streams. Overall, streams will be pg-13 mostly.

TITS stands for twitch integrated throwing system [insert ranboo's giggle here]

All proceeds donated to ranboo's channel only go to charity! Not to them at all! They have a list of charities that he supports and will be changed 1-3 months at a time like usual!

Please make stuff. This is how he gets ppl who edit and the emote makers/artists. Not forced. Just encouraging ppl who make stuff to make stuff and he appreciates it and loves it! Even if it is not about him just make it! AND SUPPORT ARTISTS BOOBERS!

[nintendroid]

Happy belated birthday to the Nintendo 64, released in North America on September 29th making it 28 years old!

No other console I've owned gives me the nostalgia bug like the N64. I have so many stories of the adventures I had with it I could almost write a book. Maybe someday I will, but for right now let's talk about how you can celebrate Nintendo's most unappreciated console. We'll look at some modern software, some underappreciated games you should play and some cool N64 oddities. (NOTE: None of the items mentioned are sponsored. I just really dig the products)

Essential Hardware:

Brawler 64 Controller!

Available wired or wireless, the Brawler is for players who want to play the N64 with a more modern controller. I bought one some years back and have been nothing but satisfied with it. Check out my original review here. Shop here.

The Everdrive 64!

A cartridge capable of storing every N64 game EVER! Not just official games either, but fan-made game mods too! An absolute must if you're hardcore into N64 gaming. It should be noted, there are cheaper alternatives out there, but the rumor is that they can fry your console. KRIKzz-brand Everdrive's are known for their quality and for my money I want something that's not going to ruin my hardware. Check out my original review here. Shop here.

Underrated Games: Even with such a short library, there are good N64 games that don't have the Nintendo or Rare label on them. These aren't all of them, but here's a few that pop up in my mind when I think of the topic of underappreciated N64 games. Yes, some of these are ports but the N64 ports are the way I experienced them and I still prefer the N64 versions.

Duke Nukem: Zero Hour

In my opinion, the best sequel to Duke 3D. Don't let the 3rd-person perspective deter you, this is an authentic Duke Nukem game. Go through time shooting zombies, aliens, Jack the Ripper and send those alien scum packing. Duke's sense of humor is present, even under Nintendo's famous censorship guidelines.

Road Rash 64

A motorcycle racing game where you clobber the other racers with pipes, crowbars and plungers while avoiding the cops. It's so awesome and features one of the greatest songs Sugar Ray ever put out.

40 Winks

It was cancelled at 99% complete in the N64's heyday but publishing company Piko Interactive bought the rights and gave it an official release in 2019. While not what I would call a "classic" It's still a fun game to play over a weekend. As mentioned in my original review, it reminds me of a 3D adaptation of Nightmare on Elmstreet for NES.

007 - The World Is Not Enough

While not quite known as it's big brother, TWINE is a fun FPS Bond game in its own right. Eurocom (who developed Duke Nukem Zero Hour and 40 Winks!) knew they wasn't going to top Rare's iconic Goldeneye, but they did their best and it shows. The one advantage TWINE has over Goldeneye is multiplayer bots so you can play multiplayer because you don't have friends willing to come over because you're a 35-year-old father of two with a mortgage and 9-to-5.

Mods: The modding scene on the N64 is opening up and as a result we're getting some quality titles that extends the life of our favorite system. The one's mentioned here can be played on your actual N64 with the assistance of an Everdrive.

Smash Remix

Everyone collectively loves the original Super Smash Bros, but we can all agree it's pretty barebones in terms of content. Smash Remix fixed that with tons of new N64-era appropriate character additions, new levels, gameplay modes, music, costume changes and MORE. Phenomenal mod if you're a Smash 64 fan.

Shotgun Mario

Its Super Mario 64 but he has a shotgun. Fun for a laugh but adds a fun new mechanic to a classic. No more hoppin-and-boppin, Mario is here to dispense justice!

AKI-engine Wrestling Game Mods

I know most of you reading this aren't wrestling fans but the N64 had some iconic wrestling games thanks to Japanese studio AKI. Fans have been making mods for the AKI-developed titles like WWF No Mercy, Virtual Pro Wrestling 64, WCW vs NWO World Tour ect for years. It's hard to choose just one and each game has a wealth of characters, new arenas, match stipulations, create a wrestler options and much more.

Weirdo N64 Products: Any other time I would have 100 things to list but this is all I could find in the short time I have.

N64 Shirt!

Yes this bad boy is official. What other officially licensed shirt has Fox McCloud and a stormtrooper on it? In modern times, your best luck of finding something like this would be in a midwestern flea market.

Bill Goldberg Memory Card!

WCW legend Bill Goldberg had a memory card for some reason. I'm not complaining because it's awesome. Nothing I would love more than looking down after losing races in Diddy Kong to see big Bill yelling at me, motivating me to be a champion.

In conclusion: The N64 is a flawed but legendary console - it's popular but underrated, widely-known but intimate. My wishlist for the future is more awesome game mods of well known titles AND lesser known titles (let's fix Superman 64 or Carmageddon!). If you read this far, I hope this got you in the mood to play some N64.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

7+8 of hurt/comfort with glitchy red?

7) "Because nobody cares about me!"

8) "Because I care about you!"

..........

When Red finally managed to escape that game with your help, of course you weren't expecting him to become your best friend right away.

After all, he never really trusted anyone who managed to get ahold of the GBA with the hacked cartridge inside it--the latest person being you.

He thought you were just like the "others": players who'd mess around the code and force him to see things that caused his sentience to begin with..which set him on the path to a torturous existence he didn't ask for.

No matter how much he resisted, they'd always find a way to make the code work in their favor. And because of that, it took him a while to realize that you're only hacking the game to give him a way out. Yet he would still fight back and beg you to stop, insisting there was no point in saving him.

Yet by some miracle...you did.

As now he was in your room, looking down at the GBA and its cracked screen on the floor from which he emerged. It was a shock to see that tiny little machine was his prison since his creation..and to finally stomp on it and crush it to pieces felt liberating.

Except...

He still felt the same anguish as before, even as he stared down at the broken pieces.

You promised him that getting out of the game would bring him peace, and he decided to believe you and trust you, since you genuinely saw him as a person trapped inside that hellish thing.

That being said...why was his heart still full of hatred and misery?

Why didn't he feel better?

But as he began to realize he could actually interact with this world, he took one look at you...

And he felt rage overcome him as you stood there, not saying a word. You were simply surprised that your plan worked, and stunned that of course you managed to free him.

Though Red didn't see it as that at all. He thought you were afraid, or having second guesses.

He still didn't know what your ulterior motives were for helping him. But he firmly believed you were just going to abandon him now that you were "finished", seeing you back towards the door as he approached you.

He couldn't get to any of the players before, but now you two were on the same plane of existence.

This was his chance to exact revenge.

And that's what he did as he lunged at you without warning, easily overpowering you and leaving a deep scratch mark along your torso. It turns out, his glitchiness was still a part of him as he managed to unhinge his jaw and bare his teeth like a wild animal.

He thought being free would make him human...yet he felt the opposite.

"You said you'd fix me, but you LIED!!" He screamed, furious that his voice sounded the same as it always did: ran through a bitcrusher program. "Why do I sound like this still?! Why am I...still broken?!!"

"..R-Red..I..I only said I could help you get out." You tried to reason with the raging glitch that had you pinned against the wall. "I'm sorry if that wasn't enough but-"

"Oh, it was plenty enough." He huffed. "But I guess I should thank you...because now I can take my revenge on you sickos who tormented me for fun."

"I...wasn't tormenting you.."

"Yeah, but you reminded me of all that pain. Honestly..I think freeing me was the stupidest decision of your life-"

"It's true I've made tons of stupid decisions, but..th-that wasn't one of them. I wanted to help you."

Blinking in surprise, Red raised an eyebrow. Though he just scowled at you again, unwilling to let his guard down. "No...you don't mean that. You only freed me so I'd shut up about it...so I'd stop haunting your stupid little game. No sane person would do that out of "kindness"."

"That's not true." You huffed, annoyed that he was refusing to believe you after all you've done. "What makes you assume I don't care-?"

"Because nobody cares about me!!" He snapped. "Nobody has for years, and they never will. So just stop pretending...it'll make this easier for the both of us." His hands went to your throat.

Yet despite knowing he could easily snap your neck, you refused to fight back or even struggle a little bit. And he quickly noticed this, frowning. "What's wrong? Too scared to fight because you know you lost? Because you know you shouldn't have freed this monster?" He taunted.

"You're not a monster-"

"STOP LYING!!"

"...I'm not lying to you, Red." You firmly insisted. "I believed you were a real person from that start. I couldn't leave you in that game to suffer! I spent days trying to figure out the coding. I lost sleep over this, but you still think I don't give a shit, huh?"

Finally, you managed to catch him off-guard with that response. And for the first time...he began to wonder why he was doing this to you.

All you've ever wanted to do was help him.

And this is how he repays you?

Still, he doesn't understand the "why" of it all. Why you'd lose sleep over someone like him..or why you don't seem afraid anymore.

You must've wanted something for sure.

"Why go through all of this for me?"

"Because I care about you!" You blurted out, embarrassed but relieved to get the truth out to him. "I never stopped caring since the day you talked back to me. I-I know I can't make you forget what you've been through...or find the people who made you this way, but...I just wanted to give you a better life in this world. That's all."

"And you...want nothing in return?" Red blinked, feeling himself calming down from his rage.

"Not a thing." You smiled a bit, showing him you were sincere. "I know you're angry and hurt, and I'm an easy target. But I promise I won't leave you like they all did. You can stay with me as long as you want."

"...you won't throw me out?"

"Why would I do that?" Gently, you put your hands over his gloved ones, slowly bringing them away from your neck. But you didn't let go of them, holding them tightly. "But there you have it...that's the real reason I wanted to let you out. So we can be together and you can be happy."

For a while, he didn't say anything back, as he had averted his gaze to the ground. Though moments later you heard a sniffle, which worried you.

Especially when you saw small water droplets splattering onto his shoes.

"Red?"

Reaching over, you gently cupped his face, making him look up at you. Not only was he completely free of glitches...but he was also crying.

At last, he showed vulnerability.

"It's okay," you reassured him, happy that he was finally willing to trust you. "You're safe now. You won't be abandoned ever again."

Tears streamed down his cheeks, some of which you gently brushed away with your thumb. He sniffled again and nuzzled against your palm, slowly becoming addicted to this feeling of comfort.

It was so foreign...yet it felt so right.

"..s-sorry, now I feel like an asshole after all that stuff you said." Closing his eyes, he just tried focusing on your kind touches, trying to forget about all the pain he endured. "It just..hurts so much. I'm tired.."

His head fell against your shoulder, but you just rubbed the back of it, letting him rest for as long as he needed to.

[synthy-sizer]

“Oh, Sofia, wait up.” She pauses and lets you catch up. “I patched something up for you. Thought you might find it neat.” You hand her your latest side project, an old Wonderswan you fixed. “I had to practically re-solder the entire board, but she works now. And I even managed to salvage a few cartridges.” She fiddles around with the handheld. “How does it work…?” You can't help but laugh just a little. You almost forgot she's never held a handheld game system. It makes you miss your Duo…

“Right, you've never used a game system before. Hold onto it, and I'll visit sometime soon and teach you how it works.” You give her a pat on the head and let her go. Jordan escorts her out and you close the door behind her.

“It's like we're divorced parents splitting custody.” You scoff at Violence's remark. “At least we can take care of her as a collective. More than we can say for our folks.” Violence hefts one of your heavy handmade firearms, examining it absentmindedly. “I feel like I need to go out and clear my head. Do you want to join?” You roll your eyes. “With you? As if.” You playfully shove his shoulder and the two of you share a laugh. “I figured maybe we could explore a bit more of the city, take in the sights. Maybe find something useful for the launch?” “Or something familiar? Maybe some old memories?” The look on his face tells you everything you need to know. “I told you to give it to me straight. It's ok to feel nostalgic.” He groans. “And kill my tough guy persona?” “Come on, dummy.”

The next thing you know you're wandering the wastes. It's hard to believe sometimes that this was once a bustling urban metropolis. The buildings have been reduced to full gray skeletons of the businesses and homes they once were. The only signs of life now are the warm green moss and plant life that have taken root. There are other things here, of course, but they're a perversion of the word “life”. You walk through the street. Cars clutter the road, completely rusted through, like corpses. There's barely any asphalt left. Most of it is dirt and grass, debris, and shattered bits of glass. All 3 crunch under your boots. Sometimes it strikes you just how silent the wastes are. Aside from the occasional wind channeling through the road, the only noises come from Violence and yourself. The silence feels heavy, like you can't speak due to the pressure on your chest. Going out here can be intimidating as much as it is calming. Even though the 2 of you are more than capable of handling anything you face, of course.

Violence gently grasps your hand and nudges you. “Remember that,” he whispers? You look around. It's a familiar-looking city block, despite the years of neglect and decay. “Is this the cafe we used to hang around at?” He nods and chuckles a bit. “Sure is. It's crazy that it's still here.” “I remember sitting in the booth and playing multi-player on our Wonderswans.” The two of you reminisce for a moment before a thought strikes you. “Do you think the Apollo college is still intact?” Violence tilts his head. “Maybe. Anything they directly built tended to be a lot more sturdy than the rest.” “Wanna take a look?” He sighs. “I don't know if I want to remember that.” You look at him and rub his shoulder. “Then maybe we should use it as an opportunity to remove some of that history, huh?” He thinks for a moment. “Yeah. I guess maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea.” You peck him on his cheek. “I never have bad ideas.”

The trip to the old college is a long one without the old trams. But luckily, you can propel yourself through the air faster than any car, bus or tram. The dense city blocks and clogged up roads fly by in a blur until eventually you touch down, face to face with Violence's old college. At its face, you wouldn't know, even before the years of abandonment and exposure to the elements, that it was a college. Every business around Apollo HQ was another building in a dense, cluttered metropolitan nightmare. Every building was a skyscraper. You would have to go out of your way to find a standalone building, far outside the wide radius around their central location. Sector 2K has been like that as long as you can remember. The corn fields and independent farms had their clear, blue skies interrupted by the gigantic monoliths, blotting out the sun at the right time of day.

You try the old doors. Locked, obviously. You flex your arm, and your mind, and rip the door right off the hinge, throwing it across the street with a loud crash. You gesture to Violence. “After you.” As the two of you step inside you instantly catch the characteristic musty smell of abandoned buildings. The foyer is completely dark except for the light streaming in from the door you removed, blocked by plywood and makeshift barricades. It's a good thing you always keep some tools on you. You flick on a flashlight and toss another to Violence. “What floor does the college start on?” “13.” He sweeps the light around and glances over the old educational posters. “I remember walking past these on the way to class back in the day.” You turn your light towards them, too. There's a solar system poster with the 10 planets orbiting the sun, reminders of voice levels in class, and even a labeled map of the US. “Guessing we won't be taking the elevator, huh?” The two of you make your way towards the stairs.

NEXT

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[hakugreenfinch]

Iggy the Stray Dog - Ch3 (1/3)

Author: Otsuichi

Original concept: Araki Hirohiko

Originally published: JOJO Magazine 2022 Spring

*** This is a fan translation made purely for entertainment. Please do not repost/reuse/etc without my permission and credit! ***

Note: If you are confused why this chapter is written in a different tense, please check my "iggy the stray dog" tag for the explanation post! Also, this chapter might come off as insensitive at some points. I'm making sure this post doesn't show up in certain tags. Anyway, let's go!

It’s raining sand on Manhattan Island. The tourists sitting on the café’s terrace keep complaining about sand in their cups as they are admiring Brooklyn Bridge. The cars parking on the streets are covered in sand. Youngsters are drawing lines in it with the points of their fingers, leaving smiley faces.

Time passes by without a word, without even a greeting, goes a saying in the Arabic world.

A few days have passed since I started working with the stray dog hunter team. No progress has been made in Iggy’s pursuit. Even if we receive information and rush to the scene, we find nothing but chewed up coffee flavoured gum, sticky with saliva.

„The last time he did this, we just had to look around carefully and he was nearby. Maybe he had fun being found and chased by humans on purpose. He must be very confident he’ll never actually be caught. Lately, who knows why, he’s been immediately disappearing, without a trace. Even if there’s a puddle, he gets away without stepping in it and leaving footprints.”

The Spaniard clicks his tongue. Iggy is careful and on his guard when it came to humans. It might have been because I showed him Magician’s Red. I taught him that even among humans, there are some he ought to be cautious with.

According to the Speedwagon Foundation’s reports, other pest exterminators commissioned by the city are also unable to track Iggy down. They put out coffee flavoured chewing gum with sleeping pills hidden inside them all over New York, but Iggy doesn’t even seem to touch it.

Where is he even staying? He must be living someplace. If he has such a den, it can’t be anywhere outside of Manhattan Island, such as Brooklyn, Queens or Bronx. No witness has reported seeing him crossing a bridge.

As the Speedwagon Foundation runs their extensive research, I am also roaming the streets of Manhattan looking for a Boston Terrier on my own. However, I’m only ever approached by malicious people.

As the sun sets, they approached me on deserted streets, pulling their guns on me. They trap me, with one of them appearing from the shadow of the building before me, and the other from behind me.

„Hey, are those huge earrings made of real gold? Or are they fake?” The man raises his gun, pointing its muzzle at me. Gold earrings hang from both of my ears. They consist of several connected discs, the ends of both sides joining together before my neck.

„They are real. Gold gives both the body and the soul power. It feels like it’s filling you with strength when you wear it. Besides, in case anything happens, it is easy to liquidate. Among Arabs such as myself, there are surprisingly many who walk around wearing accessories like these. It is the wisdom of nomads who have no fixed residence.”

„That’s some great wisdom! It makes our job easier.”

As a matter of fact, I summoned Magician’s Red the very moment they appeared. It is impossible for them to see him, but surely they must be feeling the heat.

Magician’s Red touches their guns, and the black metal turns red hot. The men can’t hold their heating weapons any longer, and throw them to the ground with a shriek. In the puddle that the gun is slowly melting into on the asphalt, the gunpowder from the cartridge is heating up, erupting gas. The men decide to escape this frightening situation.

Watching their backs, I suddenly think, „did I also look like that?” I must have resembled them as I have run away with a shriek a couple months ago in Cairo.

Sleeping at the hotel, I’ve come to often see nightmares. When I wake up, my sheets are drenched in sweat. These nightmares would always remind me of that night.

My shop is in the Khan el-Khalili souk of my hometown. The man quietly stood upon the staircase leading to its second story. The moonlight pouring in from the window lit up his figure. He held a sexual allure not unlike a woman’s. The thick scent of incense hung in the air around him, hiding the stench of death. I was terrified, but also captivated by his detached aura. His icy gaze crept right into my heart. His blond hair like gold. Skin so white it appeared translucent. His bewitching lips parted slightly, flashing sharp, fang-like canine teeth. As he licked their points, I understood he was no human. I’d already heard about who he really was from my American friend.

That man was DIO. And he wasn’t human.

„He’s assembling Stand users to aid him in his goals, Avdol. There’s a chance someday he’ll show up at your place too."

„Do not worry, Mr Joestar. If he does come to me, I’ll turn him into ash.”

„If you run into him, get out of there. There’s no shame in running away. Do not by any means approach him! Survive and wait for your chance.”

The truth is, when I actually met him face-to-face, no option other than escaping even came to my mind.

You possess a special power no ordinary man holds, do you not? I would be delighted if you only showed it to me.

The words he spoke put me at ease. That was when I realized how terrifying he was. His dangerous sweetness felt like euphoria flooding my brain.

I jumped out the window and run. Had I not known the souk’s maze so well I would not have been able to escape his pursuit. I fled abroad, never returning to my hometown.

***

My hometown...

The wind blowing in the desert, the heat of the sun, my father and my mother...

The graveyard where my parents have been buried is in the outskirts of Cairo.

I was born in Cairo, Egypt. My father was  a soldier and the firstborn son of a family with honourable roots. My mother made a living with fortune telling on streetcorners. I was still a young child when my father lost his life in the Six-Day War. He shielded a comrade with his own body, protecting him from the explosion of a hand grenade. The comrade he saved told me this himself. Only his arms remained that he held out to push him out of the explosion’s way.

I was raised with my father’s annuity and my mother’s income. However, I also lost my mother before I was an adult. There was a shooting incident in town involving a PaIestinian terrorist organization. My mother was near the site, and was shot in her head and back. Under my mother’s corpse was a little girl, sobbing. She protected that little girl before her eyes from the bullets at the cost of her life.

The comrade my father saved became a teacher later on and passed his knowledge on to countless children. The little girl my mother protected became a nurse saving other people’s lives. The death of my parents wasn’t in vain. This was the relief to my pain.

As an orphan, I had to live on my own. Luckily, since I inherited the talent of fortune telling from my mother, I managed to make a living with Tarot reading. The slums of Cairo are no different from garbage dumps. That was where I based my life. It wasn’t a safe place, but as I was born a Stand user, I could protect myself.

I have seen the ill will of many people. In the slums, everyone deceived the other. It was all people sticking their hands in the pockets of the rich, taking their wallets. Many kids my age dirtied their hands and strayed onto the path of evil. I escaped that fate because I kept the faces of my father and mother in my mind. I thought of them who died protecting others with pride, and they became my guides to a righteous life.

When I was in my mid-twenties in 1985, my skills as a fortune teller were recognized and I became a certain millionaire’s specialist. My employer was a beautiful woman, but of an awful nature. When she travelled to England, I was ordered to go along with her as well.

Our destination was a party of the rich. It took place in a magnificent mansion in a high-end district of London. I was present there as an assistant. My employer wore a beautiful dress, and her good looks drew everyone’s attention around her. Many approached her with compliments, among them was a cheerful white man. He was quite large, and even with his suit on I could tell he had a sturdy build. There was no doubt he was elderly, but still there was a youthful look to him.

The man tried to get her attention with his jokes, but my employer did not sway. He wore gloves on both hands, and his left seemed to be a mechanical prosthesis. His name was Joseph Joestar. I was told he was the proprietor of a real estate agency in New York.

While my lady was engaging in conversation with other men, I happened to spend some time in the company of Joseph Joestar in one of the mansion’s rooms. It was a cold night, like it was about to snow. The women in the room felt cold as the fire in the fireplace died down. They all wore dresses that left their shoulders naked.

Joseph Joestar threw the spare wood prepared next to the fireplace into the fire, but the flames didn’t light up right away. The wood needed time to really start burning.

„Wait just a little. You should be warming up soon” Joseph Joestar told the women. I was standing just before the fireplace, and decided to help warm up the room. I turned to the firewood and held out my right arm.

Burn.

The small, dying flames swelled up. The fire inside the fireplace burned up with a bright redness, swallowing the wood. I toned down the flames so that they wouldn’t turn it to ashes immediately. Their revitalized force started warming up the room right away. The women, seemingly relieved, resumed their friendly chattering as they were freed of the cold.

Joseph Joestar stood a little away from me, on his guard.

„What did you just do?”

„I made the flames bigger. You might not believe me, but this is something I have been able to do ever since I was a child. I can set a fire without a match or a lighter.”

„For a moment there I saw something like an arm. It wasn’t yours. It looked like an arm with flaming wrists appeared and revived the flames to me. Did I see it wrong?”

It was my turn to be surprised. He also saw it. The half-beast arm manifesting separately from my own. The figure shrinking the swelling flames back down in the fireplace with a move just like a conductor adjusts an orchestral performance.

At the time, I found it odd that he could also see Magician’s Red. As far as I understood, Magician’s was a guardian spirit visible solely to me. It was a genuine discovery that there was someone other than me that could see him. This was the even that brought us together. Later I found out that this happened one year after DIO awakened from his sleep. It was probably his influence that Joseph Joestar also manifested his own Stand. That was the reason he could see Magician’s Red’s arm as well.

[veryimportantsparkles]

Every time I reset a Pokemon cartridge I designate a 'sacrifice.' That's the single Pokemon that stays in the file when I save over it with my new game. I write down the species, gender, level, and catch location and go back to recapture the same thing in the new file. I can't account for Natures or IVs or anything like that, so sometimes they go through some interesting changes. Hitorigami went from Gentle to Impish, Fujiko went from Calm to Relaxed. This guy? He went from Timid to Serious. I think he's mad.

His name is Edmond, which was the player name of the last file. I also did this with Hanna, from my extra Sapphire cartridge. The intent is to honor the original owner, not to recreate them. I actually know who previously owned Hanna's cartridge and that's not even their name. And they're not a spooky clown. I don't know anything about Edmond, other than what he left in his file:

He completed the game and caught all the legendaries except his Lati, you get to choose which you get in Emerald and his was Latios. Its health was whittled down but I guess he gave up and I had to catch it.

He kept Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza in his party and used them as HM mules, lol. I know a lot of people use legendaries that way but I find it so baffling.

He used his Master Ball on some random Claydol from the Sky Pillar. Must've been a mistake, but he didn't reset.

I think he had like...ONE nicknamed Pokemon, excluding in-game trades. I went ahead and just gave everything random nicknames. His starter (Swampert) got the name 'Edson' because I think starters should retain specialness in some way.

So really, this was a person who cared about playing the game to completion but maybe didn't care about doing things the 'right' way or get a full Pokedex. He didn't transfer everything up to 4th gen before selling his cartridge to the local retro game store. But I can't prove that...maybe the game got lost or stolen, or a relative tossed it into a lot that they pawned off without checking. I'll never know.

I'm taking care of his Pokemon, but I did delete his file. So this new Edmond, he isn't the old Edmond, he can't really know or understand who that was or what it means to carry on his legacy. And I think he's trying to reject the whole concept.

See, you can catch Lotad on route 102 and they're a 20% encounter rate. When I caught him in the old file, he broke like 8 pokeballs for no reason. He was level 3 but resisted capture with his whole little heart. And in the new file, I wanted him to be the first thing I caught (after Blackjack, the new starter), but he just wouldn't show up. It took me two hours to find a lvl 3 male Lotad. I found a bunch of females, and some lvl 4s, I even found a Ralts (4% encounter rate) before he showed up. And when I finally got him he was...SERIOUS. He knows something's wrong and he doesn't like it.

I gave him an outfit that resembles Brendan's Emerald outfit, but with Red's hat and hair because I could convey a Lotad's lilypad and nubby legs better with them. He's a Pokemon gussied up in the clothes of a trainer...which is inherently wrong and perhaps overwhelming for a baby lad like this. Can he fill those shoes? No, I'm in the trainer shoes. But I'm gonna train him good and he's gonna be my lil champion whether he likes it or not.

Compare to:

Mizuhanome, my other Lotad/Lombre/Ludicolo gijinka who is a much happier and more festive person.

Testudo, who also gets a Brendan outfit variant, because he's a Kanto resident who 'studied abroad' (EV training) in Hoenn.

Welp, better get back to actually playing the game, haha

EDIT: fixed a color error on his hat

[audio-luddite]

You cant fix a recording in your system.

It is obvious that once a recording is published it is fixed. Analog or digital makes no difference once it reaches your system it is what it is. If it is flawed there is little to do. Oh you can use a multiband equalizer (shudder) or a dynamic range expander (for some recordings) but that is a bandage on a broken thing. It will not fix the stereo image if it is not there.

I tripped over a nugget of information at the online TAS blog. My attention was snagged by yet another half million dollar speaker then diverted by this other thing.

I played the two tracks, A & B, as instructed and quickly chose B as preferred. It was recorded with a single stereo microphone. If you read all the blah blah on either side of the demo you get the idea.

I listened with cheap earbuds plugged into my computer. It was a very noticeable effect.

Single mike recordings are rare as it is easier to do multi mikes into huge mixing boards so things can be tracked and mixed. Faster, easier to fix mistakes and all that.

Audiophiles will spend big money and judge the quality of their system on its ability to produce a good image. This small nugget shows the basic image quality is not in the playing, but in the recording.

As an aside the funky speaker in the photo is a Linkwitz open baffle behemoth that sprays sound all over the room front and back to artificially create ambience and presumably image. I think the concept is deeply flawed.

So what does this mean? Two very good examples of single mike recordings are Trinity Sessions by Cowboy Junkies, and Jazz at the Pawn Shop (sort of). Pawnshop was recorded with several mikes but they were arrayed as ORTF pairs which are two close set angled outward and each pair is lets say a quasi-single mike. Trinity was recorded with an Ambisonic mike that has 4 cartridges arrayed in a tetrahedron. The example B was done with a Blumlein stereo mike with two cartridges at 90 degrees to each other in one case. The main thing is the actual space and phase information that captures the "image" are preserved with a singe mike. That is why they sound so good.

One is a legendary pure analog recording the other is pure digital.

The brilliant Mercury Living Presence recordings are not single mike, but otherwise minimalist with just three mikes, L, R, and Center.

It is possible in the mix and processing to fake image. Those Supertramp albums have cool effects like a saxophone moving from the back to front and left and right. But that is all studio magic.

Qsound and Dolby Atmos create effects to mimic a sound stage. There are other methods that in your system feed out of phase information through each stereo speaker to cancel out some sounds from the other side and create a virtual headphone effect. These are all fake and frankly work only for a limited listening position. Headphones work too.

This resolves down to getting recordings that are done certain ways to get a good honest image. You may like a given musical performance but the image can be real or fake. An example of a good fake recording is "Diana Krall in Paris." Listen to how the image is portrayed in the mix then look at the photo of the band on stage.

Oh another anti-example is Getz / Gilberto. Very Naive recording some studio ambiance, but Astrud's vocal is hard to one side. Weird, but that is the way it was made. Actually not stereo. I think the original release was monophonic and Stereo was so new.

Fool me once shame on me.

[hazygrains]

Only one photo was damaged. Weird because the other half was okay. Oh, the unknown surprises of instant photography!

My First Polaroid Cameras

Last year, I not only bought one but two Polaroid cameras on Carousell, a buy-and-sell platform. It was actually my first time owning this brand of instant camera. I remember when I was a kid, I used to refer to the Fujifilm Instax brand as 'Polaroid.' To me, every instant camera was a Polaroid. I even believed that shaking the film would make it develop faster. Well, as it turns out, that's just a common misconception about instant photography. Anyway, the seller informed me that he had obtained the cameras from an auction house. At first, I was hesitant because I preferred to personally inspect and test them. However, I decided to take the risk. The seller assured me that the cameras were in good condition and that he had already tested both of them, confirming they were working fine. I managed to get both cameras for the price of one. Not bad at all.

As soon as I received my new cameras, I promptly ordered the films. I started by testing the Polaroid 636 talking camera. This camera has an amazing feature that allows you to record your voice or music, and when you click the shutter button, it plays the recorded sound. Personally, I'm not a fan of its design as it lacks the classic Polaroid look, but it's still a Polaroid nonetheless. I also did some research to determine which type of film was suitable for this particular Polaroid model. I was amazed to discover that the old Polaroid cameras don't require batteries. Each pack of film contains a fresh battery that powers the camera. How cool is that?

When it came time to test the cameras, I found myself contemplating what to capture because the film isn't cheap. Each pack has only 8 exposures, and it costs around 1200–1500 PHP. Every shot is precious. So, for my first two packs, I took photos of my loved ones.

This is the second pack of Color 600 film, and I still have one shot left. As you can see, the last two photos here look damaged. This damage occurred due to how I handled the film during the transfer, as well as the fact that there was a significant gap in the time these images were taken. The most recent ones were taken just last month in September, while the previous image, before the last two, was taken in February. The film was stored inside the camera, which just sat on my shelf, untouched, and the storage conditions at home can become quite warm, and this seems to have had a damaging effect on the film.

The other camera I got was the Instant 1000 Deluxe. This one was much older and still had its box, which, according to the seller, was rare for a boxed ‘70s Polaroid. Unfortunately, when I tested this one out, it was not working. Yes, the dark slide was ejecting, but once I tried to click the shutter, it seemed like it was stuck. I still haven’t had the chance to have it fixed. Btw, I love the look of this one. Classic!

I also transferred the SX-70 films to a finished 600 film cartridge. I thought the SX-70 pack that I bought had a discharged battery, but still it wouldn’t work. Anyway, I just used the film using the Polatalk. I should just keep in mind that I need all the light I can get when shooting this because of its 160 ISO.

Here are the results:

Two photos were damaged in this SX-70 pack. I think it was because of how I handled the film during the transfer. Ahhh! I wasted two golden films. Lol! Anyway, the vibe of these photos is very vintage.

I love the overall retro look and feel of Polaroid. It's very different from the contrasty results of Instax. So yeah, can't wait to shoot more. If the budget permits, I would love to bring one of my Pola cams on my travel trips. But for now, we've got to stick to taking photos of our loved ones.

[interroughbang]

Video Games and Gender

My first Christmas owning a console—a pink Nintendo DS Lite—I got a couple of game cartridges. Having only been on the sidelines of gaming, playing only at friends’ houses and seeing all sorts of cool games with magic combat, cool graphics, giant motorcycles and guns, I was hyped to say the least.

I got three games that Christmas: Moshi Monsters Moshling Zoo, Moshi Monsters Theme Park, and Chess for Kids. Cue immediate deflation. Why did I get the girl version of a monster collecting game? Moshi Monsters was an often girl-marketed game as far as I understood it. Games were toys, marketed with gender in mind just as often. It didn’t help that I also got one of those game t-shirts from the girls’ section—Pikachu was on it (wahoo!) but only along with a smattering of hearts and sparkles on pink. The “girl” stuff always had to be different. Even while playing the chess game, the UI needed to know whether I was male or female. That wasn’t my parents’ fault—nonetheless, I felt a bit boxed in.

Why was it so important to have a defined gender in these games? Why did the game often get to choose for me? Why did only types of games allow you to play as a girl (or have it as the only option) while some genres were entirely male player-characters (PCs hereafter)?

When I went over to my friend Derek’s house, I could see a world of games entirely different from mine. First off, there was the violence, always coming from male characters. I don’t think I actually ever saw a gender selection screen on any of his games, unless counting the rosters of fighters like Dragon Ball. We had Minecraft and Fossil Fighters in common of our personal game collections, and Fossil Fighters didn’t have a gender selection. Instead, you would choose your favorite dinosaur and get an outfit of its color scheme. You could be pink if you liked the Maiasaurus. Just not a girl. Fossil fighting was for boys, though ironically two other main characters and fighters are young women. (This was fixed in the second game).

There is a strange limitation in effect of many video games. Nowadays, there’s of course more variety—many games, especially role-playing games (RPGs) will offer a character creation bit or a vague gendered selection. Indie games are excellent with this, often taking care to even offer small bits like pronoun preference.

Many games do not have any choice at all, though, except maybe for name. Especially with earlier games in the 80s and 90s, you’d play as a set character or not play at all. And those characters were nearly unanimously men. Exceptions to the rule would usually be games where you could only play as a woman, which included things like Barbie. The content and genre of the games would vary widely based on the gender demographic. PCs were only men in shooter games or things like Grand Theft Auto. Games on average were more focused on adventure, yet had potential to branch out a lot. Boys could play in any sort of story. Except the Barbie games.  Barbie games were Barbie games, and you could only be a blonde woman buying heels and calling her boyfriend. This was dating back to the times of the Commodore 64.

The concepts of video game adventures are generally pretty gender neutral. They end up supporting some stifling roles in limiting their adventures to male PCs when there is no reason to. Individual characters (like Ness of Earthbound, or Lara Croft of Tomb Raider) are a different case, as they place you into a single place rather than you being a random insertion into a universe. After a while, though, when you only hold an assault rifle in the hands of a male character and care for animals in that of a female character, there are implicit lines being drawn. Violence is for men. Caring is for women. Women play one role, men another. Binary, exclusive distinctions in the gender roles of characters are damaging, even if you might not take it to heart too much.

The binary is enforced in ways ranging from unnecessary to borderline nonsensical in video games. In the latest installments of the Pokémon game series, the character creation only asks “What do you look like?” with presentations of male and female character options, but if you choose a female character you will be referred to as “Mistress [Name]” by the school’s principal, and “Master [name]” if you play a male character. It’s the only difference, aside from visual, in the game from the player character’s appearance. I am also of the opinion that it is weird to call a school-aged person ‘Mistress’. Strange.

Another example from Pokémon (I play a lot of Pokémon) is a niche, still odd example found in a hidden sort of mini-dating sim in the White 2 and Black 2 versions of the game from 2012.  Walking onto certain spots of the map after picking up a lost calling device triggers a series of phone call conversations. The gender and dialogue of the caller change depending whether the PC is a boy or girl. The caller is always the opposite sex: Yancy calls you if you’re a boy, and Curtis calls the girl character. Their dialogue not only differs in their personality…only the men get to talk about themselves! I’m not kidding. Though you can’t read any dialogue from the PC during the calls, if you’re a boy, Yancy only responds to what you say, barely (if ever) saying anything from herself. Curtis will talk your ear off.

Here’s examples of the differences between the same conversations, with the different callers:

Yancy:

Curtis:

It is as insufferable to play as it is to read. Though it’s silly looking, it still supports a standard of men always taking the initiative, and women being receptive conversation partners and always going off of or listening more to what the man is saying. There isn’t even a reason to really have this difference, as since the player has no dialogue options to choose, they can’t really talk about themselves. I wanted to hear Yancy’s favorite type of music too, but all she says is “I like music too!”. Horrible.

These kinds of arbitrary limits and differences are all over the place in games, and though they seem unserious sometimes at face value, they quietly (…or less quietly) reinforce “dos” and “donts” for players based on their gender. In Fire Emblem, only males can axe-wield until the fourteenth installment of the games. Men can’t be Pegasus Knights because they are considered too provocative for the skittish creatures…while literally all women are calm enough, apparently.

There are always arguments of gender differences in games being ‘realistic’, contributing to the suspension of disbelief in gameplay by anchoring mechanics to real world truths. The key takeaway I want you to have from reading this is that not a single gender difference is absolute in this world. Not a single one. There are trends—many people raise their children in separate ways, subtly or unsubtly, based on their assigned sex—in cultures, eras, geographical location, the list goes on. Nonetheless there always exist people outside of the standard. The standards of gendered behavior and general constitution are shaky at best, and fictitious at worst. Women are not inherently more receptive or docile, they are raised to be, so some may have more of that sort of personality by virtue of any sort of influence or personal disposition. They can also be literally anything else. Liking pink or blue, guns or glitter, pegasi or dinosaurs or whatever aren’t wired into anyone’s chromosomes, and neither are their personality traits for the most part.  

The prevalence of these sort of tropes create an uncomfortable environment for many gamers that aren’t men that fit the bill of the expected audience. Men may not care as much that men and women’s stats have opposite strength profiles in Fire Emblem for the most part. A female player would likely not want to play games where she is at a set disadvantage solely for picking the character with eyelashes, or where choices are limited based on that initial character choice. Many people enjoy immersion in games, and when that immersion mimics and reinforces real life sexism, video games become understandably less attractive. If the only women in a game are sex objects, it’s not really as fun anymore to play as a woman, knowing that’s the place of women in the world of the game.

Unfortunately, these strange standards are mirrored onto playerbases quite often. Especially with chronically online gaming folks, the separation of the functions and abilities of men and women gets downright absurd, and can reinforce already prevalent misogynistic stereotypes. And with all that, some come to think: what women would even want to play games then?

Aren’t these just a dude thing?

And so the cycle continues.

People of all genders and backgrounds have infinite potential, on and offscreen. When games refuse to represent that--or worse, refuse its possibility outright by their mechanics--they perpetuate the cycle of restricting peoples lives by arbitrary elements of their identity.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Dynaco Repair Post No. 4

Thursday evening, 12-21-23, later:

As I was saying, just a little careful polishing and the chassis already looks a lot better. And the can cap is almost exactly same height as the original:

A little more of that shine:

Once the new can was twist-locked into place with the four tabs, it was time to make the physical connections to all four of the terminals, and replacing the old resistors with some flameproof resistors I'd bought for another ST70 I redid about 15 years ago:

And here, finally is everything hooked up, crimped, and ready to be soldered:

Again, the 30-watt pencil is the way to go.

And THAT, believe it or not, completes ALL the repairs I needed to make to the Stereo 70! Now, all I need is a fresh quad of EL-34 output tubes...another $100 I don't have.

Tomorrow, I start in on finishing the PAS. The 12X4 got here, and I have work to do on the replacement switch. Dude had stripped the big flat caps wired in there, so I will have to cannibalize off my old one.

And one last "Glamour Shot", this time with the 7199 driver tubes in place, with the chassis and base shined up nicely:

(And yes, I put these awesome big-ass rubber feet on and it is so much better looking cageless, as well as easier to handle! And I can't help thinking it has to help keep the amp cooler than the original almost non-existent flat button feet.)

Friday evening, Dec 22, 2023

Well, I looked at that 3-wafer switch, and my little "fix" of wrapping wire around the broken bits, and decided I really had nothing to lose by putting the tubes in, including the NOS 12X4 rectifier tube, and attaching some improvised wiring up to my ancient (but still absolutely functional) Altec Lansing computer speakers as an amplifier.

I then dug out the wires for the turntable and its ground, and a functioning 1/8"-to-RCA cord to use as a test for all the other inputs.

IT WORKS!!! WE HAVE PHONO! WE HAVE ALL THE OTHER PERTINENT INPUTS AS WELL! Talk about relieved and elated! WooHOO! At least now I can get back to transcribing my vinyl to SSD via this beautiful critter, my Dual 1219, with Shure M91ED cartridge. Test record? My ancient 45 of "Green Eyed Lady" by Sugarloaf! ROCK OUT ON THAT ORGAN, JERRY CORBETTA!

Plugged the other patchcord into my laptop, and put Miss Nina Simone's "Little Girl Blue" (which I had transcribed before this mess all went down)...and it came through excellent on the "Spare", AM/FM (tuner) input. The only one that sounded a bit off was the 'FM MPX", which was actually only supposed to be one channel of the stereo FM, so that was to be expected, actually.

That 12X4 glowin' fine:

BUT: with the Spare and Phono both functional, as are the tape in/out jacks, I have everything I need, since I have a 3-source external selector box that will turn Spare into three separate additional inputs, thus, I can run my TV and DVD player into the tubes as well.

SO, I can call the PAS3X officially back in business again, and I have a spare source switch if I need it. That is big. I will spend the rest of the time this evening on putting the case back together and doing some more polishing on the ST-70.

SO the only thing we are missing for a Totally Tubular Xmas is a quad of EL34/6CA7 tubes!

More tomorrow as I finish up the detailing on both units.

And I will also show off my speakers that fill an empty spot in the Dynaco speaker line: a beast of my own creation, the speaker that never was, "The A-15" (lulz) I used 8" butyl-surround woofers and SEAS tweeters, encased in actual wood veneer Pioneer speaker cabinets.

The A-10 woofers were 6", and the A-25 were 10", these Pioneer boxes are perfectly sized to be infinite-baffle boxes, the woofers have exactly the right amount of room, and they sound amazing when the Stereo 70 is blasting through them.

AND ADDENDUM, 8:27pm: EL-34s ARE BEING MAILED TOMORROW! My bro over on the east coast is shipping them tomorrow...we will have TUBEAGE for XMAS!

-------------------------------------------

LINKS TO THE PREVIOUS THREE REPAIR POSTS:

[frogsandfries]

I had to grab some stuff just to finally cover my sister's birthday books, so I've already placed the order for this pay period, but I believe Yes paste is going in the cart for next pay period, and the hard drive is making its way up the backlog.

I'm also getting more cat toys, particularly toys that I can use while I'm stuck at my desk during the day. I also finally bought them a water fountain. I'm going to switch out the bowl in the bedroom/bathroom area.

I also still need a vacuum for all the hairy, sheddy creatures that live in my carpeted apartment, so I'll have to work on that. Luckily, the shopping list of other, smaller, important items IS shrinking.

Then, I think after the vacuum, I can get some bookshelves. I'll have to move the air conditioner to make room for the bookshelf, whenever that happens. Probably on the next couple months. I'd say it was dumb to bring an AC to a place that a) I definitely don't need it, and b) it's not allowed to be used anyway, but look, I was used for three years. I left that apartment in the condition it would have been without me.

Another huge-ticket purchase I need/want to make is, I left my decrepit Uggs. The leatherworker that I was able to contact said most likely they were beyond repair, and I was too upset. But I really liked them, so I'll just get an extra sole put on the new pair. I need a few pieces of footwear to complete my personal collection: Winter shoes, closed-toe sandals, slippers and some kind of cushiony skate shoe.

I'm obviously either going to have to start saving and/or stop spending now if I want to move next year, which I don't know about quite yet. I've been looking into the city I want to move to, the best that I can with no car. It's a very US-western city, one major, multi-lane street lined with franchise businesses. It's supposed to be The Place for creatives, and has a cost of living ticket to match. I don't know how I feel about that. But hey, I moved to New Mexico in the first place with no idea what I'd be walking into and it's been fine.

Anyway, here's going new printer cartridges are the fix for my printer because I've got a major itch to print some more books.

[murdereddoubt]

Headache Sound Omni Turntable Review

The Headache Sound Omni Portable Turntable is a popular choice among vinyl enthusiasts due to its portability and high-quality sound. One of its standout features is its V2 faders, which are an improvement over the V1 faders found in the earlier version of the turntable. I currently own the V1 faders on my Omni and ran into a few issues but recalibrating the cut in time a littler less sharper than the usual fixes it.

The V2 faders are designed to provide better sound quality by reducing audio bleeding between channels. This means that the audio signal is less likely to bleed over from one channel to the other, resulting in a cleaner, more accurate sound.

In addition to the improved faders, the Headache Sound Omni Portable Turntable also offers a range of other benefits. Its portability makes it easy to take with you wherever you go, whether you're DJing a party or just enjoying your vinyl collection on the go. It also features a high-torque motor, which provides reliable and consistent performance, and a built-in preamp, which ensures that your records sound their best.

I upgraded the stylus to the Ortofon VNL and it makes for better tracking when skratching. Audio quality is vastly improved as compared to the stock Audio Technica needles they provide as standard. Check out the Ortofon VNL in my link below:

Overall, if you're in the market for a portable turntable that offers high-quality sound and advanced features, the Headache Sound Omni Portable Turntable is definitely worth considering. Its V2 faders are just one of the many benefits that make this turntable stand out from the crowd.

Check out the Omni at headachesound.com where they provide a pre-order for you to purchase.