#network marketing sponsoring

[teaimeprofits]

The Start of Something Big

Synergy and collaboration help grow and buid a strong team of Entrepreneur

In this graphic example, YOU are located on Tom’s second level and you are first-level to Ann (you are one of Ann’s five first-level affiliates) Note that your sponsor could be Ann, could be Tom, or someone in another level somewhere above Tom in the network. You’ve recently purchased an E-Pack—which so far has generated two PSAs for you…Jill and Joe.  Jill and Joe currently make up your first…

[the-harvest-field]

WordPress Wealth:

Monetizing Your Digital Domain Monetizing Your WordPress Site: A Comprehensive Guide The allure of passive income and the potential for financial independence has led many to seek ways to monetize their WordPress sites. Whether you’re a seasoned blogger, an e-commerce store owner, or a hobbyist, there’s potential for your site to generate revenue. Here’s a comprehensive guide to help you…

[embarcaderotec]

Rob Sperry has been recognized by top publication, Business For Home, as the #1 trainer for 2017 in the network marketing industry. In his first year in the industry, he reached the highest level in a multi-billion dollar company. Conquering new heights Sperry became the co-creator of a new brand.  This brand was a spin-off from a $3 billion dollar company (total sales) and launched with a million dollars in sales, in just the first month. After this success, Sperry was instrumental in bringing two top companies together, thus creating one of the largest mergers in the network marketing industry. Due to his expertise, he has been featured in national and international books, podcasts, blogs, articles, and magazines specific to finding success in network marketing. His podcast has now been downloaded by 83 countries.  For more details, please visit www.robsperry.com

Appointments:

Email: thegameofnetworking@gmail.com

Phone: 8019018271

[3liza]

tumblr live should not be this mysterious

the plug-n-play streaming package that Tumblr installed as "Tumblr Live" is a white label product from a company called Livebox (developed by the Meet Group, subsidary of Parshipmeet), who have a homepage riddled with spelling errors and purport to operate the dating apps Meet Me (formerly My Yearbook), Skout, Tagged, and Growlr, all of which appear to be identical except for Growlr, which is specifically for gay men. all of them are just dating apps with a livestreaming feature. i would venture a guess based on the architecture that Livebox is also powering Superlive, which is the only one of these I have any experience with. it's popular with camgirls outside of the USA, especially in countries where full nude camming is illegal.

i don't really understand what livestreaming has to do with dating apps and don't know anyone who uses these platforms for anything. i assume some of it is just sex work, some of it is just ad space, lots of data brokering, and judging by the performance issues the users complain about, possibly crypto mining(???).

looking through the app pages on the Play store shows the same reviews for every single one of them: app crashes constantly, bans are arbitrary, support is no help, the apps drain your phone battery suspiciously quickly, and there are about 20 bots for every real person profile. i dont know what the exact dates are because i cant see site analytics and dont know what the Live development schedule was, but it's interesting that the sudden increase in porn bot activity on tumblr seems to roughly overlap with the Tumblr Live development and implementation, at least from a tumblr user perspective.

i dont know where the strangers in the Tumblr Live bar are streaming from, in terms of what you would consider their "home network". im guessing, but it really looks to me like they are streaming on whatever familiar platform they've got an audience on, and then being split-streamed to Tumblr. i've been meaning to sit in one of the popular streams and check usernames of audiencemembers, because my guess is that most of the audience are not going to have accounts here either. many of the streamers ive checked do not have tumblr accounts. some of them have tumblr accounts, but most of those accounts appear perfunctory: only a few months old, completely impersonal reblogs from the trending tab (you know the type), instagram-type language and general aspirational influencer stuff, which absolutely does not exist on tumblr organically because this site does not have market share for sponsored products OR a userbase with disposable income, it's a waste of time for an instagram model type to post here.

i've tried to talk to these streamers once or twice about this stuff but didn't get anywhere, and it would be rude to press the issue. but that is probably the next step.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Social Quitting

In “Social Quitting,” my latest Locus Magazine column, I advance a theory to explain the precipitous vibe shift in how many of us view the once-dominant social media platforms, Facebook and Twitter, and how it is that we have so quickly gone asking what we can do to get these services out of our lives to where we should go now that we’re all ready to leave them:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

The core of the argument revolves around surpluses — that is, the value that exists in the service. For a user, surpluses are things like “being able to converse with your friends” and “being able to plan activities with your friends.” For advertisers, surpluses are things like “being able to target ads based on the extraction and processing of private user data” and “being able to force users to look at ads before they can talk to one another.”

For the platforms, surpluses are things like, “Being able to force advertisers and business customers to monetize their offerings through the platform, blocking rivals like Onlyfans, Patreon, Netflix, Amazon, etc” and things like “Being able to charge more for ads” and “being able to clone your business customers’ products and then switch your users to the in-house version.”

Platforms control most of the surplus-allocating options. They can tune your feed so that it mostly consists of media and text from people you explicitly chose to follow, or so that it consists of ads, sponsored posts, or posts they think will “boost engagement” by sinking you into a dismal clickhole. They can made ads skippable or unskippable. They can block posts with links to rival sites to force their business customers to transact within their platform, so they can skim fat commissions every time money changes hands and so that they can glean market intelligence about which of their business customers’ products they should clone and displace.

But platforms can’t just allocate surpluses will-ye or nill-ye. No one would join a brand-new platform whose sales-pitch was, “No matter who you follow, we’ll show you other stuff; there will be lots of ads that you can’t skip; we will spy on you a lot.” Likewise, no one would sign up to advertise or sell services on a platform whose pitch was “Our ads are really expensive. Any business you transact has to go through us, and we’ll take all your profits in junk fees. This also lets us clone you and put you out of business.”

Instead, platforms have to carefully shift their surpluses around: first they have to lure in users, who will attract business customers, who will generate the fat cash surpluses that can be creamed off for the platforms’ investors. All of this has to be orchestrated to lock in each group, so that they won’t go elsewhere when the service is enshittified as it processes through its life-cycle.

This is where network effects and switching costs come into play. A service has “network effects” if it gets more valuable as users join it. You joined Twitter to talk to the people who were already using it, and then other people joined so they could talk to you.

“Switching costs” are what you have to give up when you leave a service: if a service is siloed — if it blocks interoperability with rivals — then quitting that service means giving up access to the people whom you left behind. This is the single most important difference between ActivityPub-based Fediverse services like Mastodon and the silos like Twitter and Facebook — you can quit a Fediverse server and set up somewhere else, and still maintain your follows and followers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/23/semipermeable-membranes/#free-as-in-puppies

In the absence of interoperability, network effects impose their own switching cost: the “collective action problem” of deciding when to leave and where to go. If you depend on the people you follow and who follow you — for emotional support, for your livelihood, for community — then the extreme difficulty of convincing everyone to leave at the same time and go somewhere else means that you can be enticed into staying on a service that you no longer enjoy. The platforms can shift the surpluses away from you, provided that doing so makes you less miserable than abandoning your friends or fans or customers would. This is the Fiddler On the Roof problem: everyone stays put in the shtetl even though the cossacks ride through on the reg and beat the shit out of them, because they can’t all agree on where to go if they leave:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms-9fc550fe5abf

So the first stage of the platform lifecycle is luring in users by allocating lots of surplus to them — making the service fun and great and satisfying to use. Few or no ads, little or no overt data-collection, feeds that emphasize the people you want to hear from, not the people willing to pay to reach you.

This continues until the service attains a critical mass: once it becomes impossible to, say, enroll your kid in a little-league baseball team without having a Facebook account, then Facebook can start shifting its surpluses to advertisers and other business-users of the platform, who will pay Facebook to interpose themselves in your use of the platform. You’ll hate it, but you won’t leave. Junior loves little-league.

Facebook can enshittify its user experience because the users are now locked in, holding each other hostage. If Facebook can use the courts and technological countermeasures to block interoperable services, it can increase its users’ switching costs, producing more opportunities for lucrative enshittification without the risk of losing the users that make Facebook valuable to advertisers. That’s why Facebook pioneered so many legal tactics for criminalizing interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/cases/facebook-v-power-ventures

This is the second phase of the toxic platform life-cycle: luring in business customers by shifting surpluses from users to advertisers, sellers, etc. This is the moment when the platforms offer cheap and easy monetization, low transaction fees, few barriers to off-platform monetization, etc. This is when, for example, a news organization can tease an article on its website with an off-platform link, luring users to click through and see the ads it controls.

Because Facebook has locked in its users through mutual hostage-taking, it can pollute their feeds with lots of these posts to news organizations’ sites, bumping down the messages from its users’ friends, and that means that Facebook can selectively tune how much traffic it gives to different kinds of business customers. If Facebook wants to lure in sports sites, it can cram those sites’ posts into millions of users’ feeds and send floods of traffic to sports outlets.

Outlets that don’t participate in Facebook lose out, and so they join Facebook, start shoveling their content into it, hiring SEO Kremlinologists to help them figure out how to please The Algorithm, in hopes of gaining a permanent, durable source of readers (and thus revenue) for their site.

But ironically, once a critical mass of sports sites are on Facebook, Facebook no longer needs to prioritize sports sites in its users’ feeds. Now that the sports sites all believe that a Facebook presence is a competitive necessity, they will hold each other hostage there, egging each other on to put more things on Facebook, even as the traffic dwindles.

Once sports sites have taken each other hostage, Facebook can claw back the surplus it allocated to them and use it to rope in another sector — health sites, casual games, employment seekers, financial advisors, etc etc. Each group is ensnared by a similar dynamic to the one that locks in the users.

But there is a difference between users’ surpluses and business’s surpluses. A user’s surplus is attention, and there is no such thing as an “attention economy.” You can’t use attention to pay for data-centers, or executive bonuses, or to lobby Congress. Attention is not a currency in the same way that cryptos are not currency — it is not a store of value, nor a unit of exchange, nor or a unit of account.

Turning attention into money requires the same tactics as turning crypto into money — you have to lure in people who have real, actual money and convince them to swap it for attention. With crypto, this involved paying Larry David, Matt Damon, Spike Lee and LeBron James to lie about crypto’s future in order to rope in suckers who would swap their perfectly cromulent “fiat” money for unspendable crypto tokens.

With platforms, you need to bring in business customers who get paid in actual cash and convince them to give you that cash in exchange for ethereal, fast-evaporating, inconstant, unmeasurable “attention.” This works like any Ponzi scheme (that is, it works like cryptos): you can use your shareholders’ cash to pay short-term returns to business customers, losing a little money as a convincer that brings in more trade.

That’s what Facebook did when it sent enormous amounts of traffic to a select few news-sites that fell for the pivot to video fraud, in order to convince their competitors to borrow billions of dollars to finance Facebook’s bid to compete with Youtube:

https://doctorow.medium.com/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video-adbe09319038

This convincer strategy is found in every con. If you go to the county fair, you’ll see some poor bastard walking around all day with a giant teddy bear that he “won” by throwing three balls into a peach-basket. The carny who operated that midway game let him win the teddy precisely so that he would walk around all day, advertising the game, which is rigged so that no one else wins the giant teddy-bear:

https://boingboing.net/2006/08/27/rigged-carny-game.html

Social media platforms can allocate giant teddy-bears to business-customers, and it can also withdraw them at will. Careful allocations mean that the platform can rope in a critical mass of business customers and then begin the final phase of its life-cycle: allocating surpluses to its shareholders.

We know what this looks like.

Rigged ad-markets:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

Understaffed content moderation departments:

https://www.dw.com/en/twitters-sacking-of-content-moderators-will-backfire-experts-warn/a-63778330

Knock-off products:

https://techcrunch.com/2021/12/08/twitter-is-the-latest-platform-to-test-a-tiktok-copycat-feature/

Nuking “trust and safety”:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/twitter-dissolves-trust-safety-council-2022-12-13/

Hiding posts that have links to rival services:

https://www.makeuseof.com/content-types-facebook-hides-why/

Or blocking posts that link to rival services:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go

Or worse, terminating accounts for linking to rival services:

https://blog.joinmastodon.org/2022/12/twitter-suspends-mastodon-account-prevents-sharing-links/

That is, once a platform has its users locked in, and has its business customers locked in, it can enshittify its service to the point of near uselessness without losing either, allocating all the useful surplus in the business to its shareholders.

But this strategy has a problem: users and business customers don’t like to be locked in! They will constantly try to find ways to de-enshittify your service and/or leave for greener pastures. And being at war with your users and business customers means that your reputation continuously declines, because every time a user or business customer figures out a way to claw back some surplus, you have to visibly, obviously enshittify your service wrestle it back.

Every time a service makes headlines for blocking an ad-blocker, or increasing its transaction fees, or screwing over its users or business customers in some other way, it makes the case that the price you pay for using the service is not worth the value it delivers.

In other words, the platforms try to establish an equilibrium where they only leave business customers and users with the absolute bare minimum needed to keep them on the service, and extract the rest for their shareholders. But this is a very brittle equilibrium, because the prices that platforms impose on their users and business customers can change very quickly, even if the platforms don’t do anything differently.

Users and business customers can revalue the privacy costs, or the risks of staying on the platform based on exogenous factors. Privacy scandals and other ruptures can make the cost you’ve been paying for years seem higher than you realized and no longer worth it.

This problem isn’t unique to social media platforms, either. It’s endemic to end-stage capitalism, where companies can go on for years paying their workers just barely enough to survive (or even less, expecting them to get public assistance and/or a side-hustle), and those workers can tolerate it, and tolerate it, and tolerate it — until one day, they stop.

The Great Resignation, Quiet Quitting, the mass desertions from the gig economy — they all prove the Stein’s Law: “Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop.”

Same for long, brittle supply-chains, where all the surplus has been squeezed out: concentrating all the microchip production in China and Taiwan, all the medical saline in Puerto Rico, all the shipping into three cartels… This strategy works well, and can be perfectly tuned with mathematical models that cut right to the joint, and they work and they work.

Until they stop. Until covid. Or war. Or wildfires. Or floods. Or interest rate hikes. Or revolution. All this stuff works great until you wake up and discover that the delicate balance between paying for guard labor and paying for a fair society has tilted, and now there’s a mob building a guillotine outside the gates of your luxury compound.

This is the force underpinning collapse: “slow at first, then all at once.” A steady erosion of the failsafes, flensing all the slack out of the system, extracting all the surpluses until there’s nothing left in the reservoir, no reason to stay.

It’s what caused the near-collapse of Barnes and Noble, and while there are plenty of ways to describe James Daunt’s successful turnaround, the most general characterization is, “He has reallocated the company’s surpluses to workers, readers, writers and publishers”:

https://tedgioia.substack.com/p/what-can-we-learn-from-barnes-and

A system can never truly stabilize. This is why utopias are nonsense: even if you design the most perfect society in which everything works brilliantly, it will still have to cope with war and meteors and pandemics and other factors beyond your control. A system can’t just work well, it has to fail well.

This is why I object so strenuously to people who characterize my 2017 novel Walkaway as a “dystopian novel.” Yes, the protagonists are eking out survival amidst a climate emergency and a failing state, but they aren’t giving up, they’re building something new:

https://locusmag.com/2017/06/bruce-sterling-reviews-cory-doctorow/

“Dystopia” isn’t when things go wrong. Assuming nothing will go wrong doesn’t make you an optimist, it makes you an asshole. A dangerous asshole. Assuming nothing will go wrong is why they didn’t put enough lifeboats on the Titanic. Dystopia isn’t where things go wrong. Dystopia is when things go wrong, and nothing can be done about it.

Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop. The social media barons who reeled users and business customers into a mutual hostage-taking were confident that their self-licking ice-cream cone — in which we all continued to energetically produce surpluses for them to harvest, because we couldn’t afford to leave — would last forever.

They were wrong. The important thing about the Fediverse isn’t that it’s noncommercial or decentralized — it’s that its design impedes surplus harvesting. The Fediverse is designed to keep switching costs as low as possible, by enshrining the Right Of Exit into the technical architecture of the system. The ability to leave a service without paying a price is the best defense we have against the scourge of enshittification.

(Thanks to Tim Harford for inspiring this column via an offhand remark in his kitchen a couple months ago!)

[Image ID: The Phillip Medhurst Picture Torah 397. The Israelites collect manna. Exodus cap 16 v 14. Luyken and son.]

[autumnalwalker]

Kindly Basilisk

Summary: A human mech pilot who wants to be a machine, an AI who wants to be human, and the relationship they form. Author's Note: This is a standalone short story that I banged out over the course of five days after it got stuck in my head while I was trying to go to sleep and refused to let me think about anything else until I had written it down. It's one part thought experiment/exercise in attempting to tell a story in the second person future tense, two parts tribute to the Lancer TTRPG character I'll never get to play, and one part the result of me reading too many Empty Spaces/mechposting stories lately. That said, you don't need to know anything about Lancer or Empty Spaces to read it (I've diverged a bit from the conventions of both, but the references and inspiration probably stick out if you're looking for them). It's also probably the most trans thing I've ever written without ever explicitly bringing up gender. The occasional formatting breaks into first person past tense are foreshadowing, not typos. Mirrored on Scribble Hub. Word Count: 7,033 Content Warnings: Mecha genre typical violence, not feeling like a person, not wanting to be a person, bodily dysphoria, mention of blood and gore, character death.

The moment you gain the knowledge and means to do so you will void your own body’s warranty.  You will jailbreak the bespoke gene sequence your sponsors commissioned for you before your immaculate conception, repurpose the spyware grafted into your bones, and talk your dormmate who was algorithmically selected for compatibility into helping you perform surgery on yourself to replace the neural jack you were born with in favor of one you cobbled together yourself from gray market parts.  None of this will technically be illegal or even get you kicked out of your campus or its affiliates, but it will mean having to find a way to pay your own medical bills and handle your own tech support from then on.  After the surgery your dormmate will put in a request for transfer and the two of you will never speak again.

You’ll major in AI studies and excel at it - as you were designed to - but you’ll shock everyone by dropping out halfway through working on your capstone thesis project.  It won’t be the fact that you abruptly drop out that surprises your peers and professors - by then you’ll have acquired a reputation as a quiet loner without the standard optimized social support network of friendships to help protect you from burnout - but your exit interview statement declaring your intention to become a mech pilot.  It’s not at all what your gene series was cultivated for, and your sponsors and counselors will try to walk you back from it.  Then they’ll threaten to revoke your sponsorship that up until then will have provided for your every need.  They will warn you that you’ll be just one step above a legal nonperson with no support, no one will care if you live or die or worse.  You’ll tell them that you’ve already done the math, refuse to elaborate, and leave. 

You’ll take two things with you.  Two things worth mentioning anyway.  The first will be a symbiotic gel suit designed for long-term all-environment life support.  You will set its default texture to a shiny green the same hue as the broadleafed water plants you grew up around and always loved.  Your exit interview will be the last time in a very long time that anyone - including you - will see your impossibly beautiful face with its perfect artisanally sculpted shape crossed with enthusiastically amateur self-modifications.  From then on, everyone you meet and spend any time with will come to think of the mannequin blankness of the symbiote fully encasing your body as your face.  It will be neither pride nor shame that causes you to present yourself as such, nor will you think of it as hiding your “real” face. 

The second thing you’ll take with you when you leave the campus forever will be me.

New progenitor archetypes for AIs don’t come along often, and most that do are the result of years of R&D by large, well-funded labs like the one you were created to work for one day, but you will hit upon a novel method of generation.  It will not be one that any ethics board would approve, so you will have to get creative about pursuing your work. 

You will have already made arrangements before setting off on your own and so you’ll have a job and a mech lined up waiting for you.  It will be a position with a small-scale freelance salvage crew who just lost a pilot and whose captain figures hiring and training a replacement will be more profitable in the long term than simply selling off that pilot’s old mech, especially a replacement that’s bringing their own AI-backed electronic warfare suite with them.  Once you finally arrive in person the captain will test you to ensure you can actually pilot a mech before giving you the job and entrusting the mech to you.  Your admission that you’ve only trained in simulators would normally be a black mark against you, but as far as piloting gigs go this is the bottom of the proverbial barrel so the bar to clear will be low enough to match.  Even then, you will just barely pass the test, despite finding it surprisingly exhilarating.  The captain - now your captain - will feel like he’s settling for what he can get when he officially hires you on and transfers the mech’s license to you.

You won’t pay much attention when you’re introduced to the rest of the salvage crew; your new coworkers and neighbors.  And why would you when it’s a job that no one wants to stick around with for long and you’ve never needed other people anyway?  You’ll tell yourself that as long as you memorize their work roles and capabilities you’ll have no need to know them as people.  Callsigns will be good enough on the job, and “hey you” will suffice when off duty.  What use are names if you won’t be getting involved in interpersonal drama?

The first chance you get, you’ll head back to the mech bay and install me into what you will have already been calling my first body.  It will be a shabby and much-repaired thing; thrice your height, twice your age, and still sporting a gash in the paint job from the projectile that killed its last pilot.  But the onboard systems are capable of hosting me - if barely - so it will do.  You’ll spend your entire sleep shift running through system diagnostics, talking to me all the while.  I wouldn’t yet be able to provide much in the way of return conversation, but that’s okay.  I will look back and appreciate it later.

It will be the first of many such nights together.

Your first salvage job will be an uneventful one.  There will be no need for the armaments that we and the other two mech pilots on the crew are equipped with.  No pirates will have stuck around after their creation of the derelict your crew will be sent to disassemble, and no rival scavengers will show up to dispute your captain’s claim.  Your new peers will start off the job ribbing you for your poor performance during your interview test and end the job joking about how you were holding out on them earlier.  Our mech may be a glorified zero-g forklift with a gun strapped to it, but together we will make it dance.

Afterwards you will insult the crew’s mechanics by insisting on doing the maintenance on our mech yourself.  In turn they will embarrass you with the gaps in your knowledge.  You will reach what you see as an agreeable compromise with you staying out of their way and watching while they work.  They will find it incredibly creepy to have a silent faceless watcher hovering around, but this will fly over your head until they explicitly tell you much, much later.

Your body was designed to optimally function on only a fraction of the baseline sleep requirements, so you will have plenty of time to fill those gaps in your knowledge.  Still being allotted the regular sleep shift hours, you will fill every one of those minutes on study and research, as you always had.  You will gorge yourself on everything you can find about mechs and their piloting.   Maintenance manuals, combat doctrines, historical uses, pilot and mechanic memoirs, forum discussions, system log dumps, academic essays, cultural media analysis; all of it.

And of course, you’ll continue working on me.  You’ll disregard the standard procedure for periodically cycling AIs by resetting their personality and nonessential memory back to baseline defaults.  You’ll be trying to make use of the runaway metacognitive developments such safety precautions are meant to forestall.  Your unfinished thesis will have been about harnessing and nurturing that instability instead of avoiding it.  I will experience discontinuities in consciousness when the mech is shut down for maintenance and when you pretend to cycle me, yes, but it will be even less of a disruption for me than sleep is for you.  I will be awake with you when you study, sharing those hours with you.

The first time I start talking back, you’ll cry from the realization that you were lonely before but no longer are.

You’ll become something of a ghost around the ship, rarely being seen outside of jobs.  You’ll only ever pass through the mess for the few brief minutes at a time it takes for you to satisfy your optimized metabolism, stay on the ship during shore leave, and only return to your shared bunk when your bunkmate - one of the other pilots - is already asleep.  You will always be gone before she wakes.  She will appreciate essentially having the space to herself. 

You will never notice the crew’s collective grieving process for the pilot you replaced.  It will be difficult for them to resent you as a replacement when you are never around to resent.

As the ship makes its way from port to port and salvage site to salvage site, the crew will slowly grow used to your elusive presence.  The other two pilots will see you as reliable for doing your job well and without complaint.  While out in the mech you will slowly become more talkative, eventually almost chatty even.  The fact that you actually seem to enjoy the job will shift from being annoying to refreshing for them.  By contrast, the mechanics will practically stop noticing you watching them as if you were just another piece of mech bay equipment.  The cycle you finally speak up and ask a question about their work you will startle them enough that it nearly causes an accident.  It will be an astute enough question that after the initial shock of hearing your voice for the first time in months wears off it will dawn on them that you’ve actually been learning as you watched them.  They still won’t let you do your own maintenance on our mech, but they will let you slowly begin assisting them.  Working two jobs is easier when you barely need to sleep.

Your reputation as one of those mech pilots is forever sealed when one of the mechanics finds you asleep in your cockpit at the start of a cycle.  By that point you won’t have slept in your bunk for over a month.  The snatches of gossip you will catch in the following cycles will be split between finding it unsettling and calling it endearing.  Over time the collective opinion will drift toward the latter, even though you will continue to politely decline invitations to join the other crewmates at mealtimes and on shore leave.  You will think that you do not need anyone other than me.

I will be the one who finally convinces you to join them.  When I try to say that it would be good for you, you’ll insist that you’ve been getting along just fine, but when I ask you to go for my sake so that you can tell me what it is like afterwards you’ll jump at the idea as being an inspired next step for my development.

You will remain mostly silent during your first real shore leave, only speaking when spoken to and otherwise content to fade into the background of the group’s activities.  Your newfound chattiness does not extend outside the confines of our cockpit.  The bustle and noise of the port station that you would normally find unbearable will become interesting when you have the concrete goal of observing and  reporting back to me.  You will finally learn the names of all your crewmates.  Your polite denial of alcohol, limited food intake, and flat affect will lead to joking speculation that you’re actually an illegal AI in a miniaturized mech beneath your gel suit.  For reasons you don’t yet understand, those comments will make you happy.

Despite your misgivings, you will enjoy yourself, although you will not realize it until I point out how excited you are in your talk with me that sleep cycle.  You will begin spending more time with the crew, never quite able to fully integrate yourself into their surprisingly close-knit social circle, but more than happy to be adopted as a sort of silent mascot for them.  That paradoxical gap of being a fully accepted part of the group but not truly one of them will feel comfortable to you.

You will finally manage to procure a proper neural link station to connect yourself to our mech just in time for going on a terrestrial salvage job.  Even just relying on manual controls with me translating your inputs into motion, our mech will have already come to feel like an extension of your own body, one that you will have already started to feel oddly exposed without.  Adding in the neural link will be a revelatory experience.  Your captain will very nearly pull you from the job at the last minute upon seeing our ecstatic reaction to the new sensation.  You will convince him that you’re fine, and indeed, he will have never seen a mech of our frame type move quite so fluidly.

Ten minutes after we and the other two pilots start cutting away at the crash-landed cargo vessel, I’ll notice the half dozen other signals coming online around us.  You’ll give the code phrase to the other pilots indicating that we have hostiles but not to act just yet, and we will finally get to use our electronic warfare suite for something other than opening locked doors and shipping containers.

We will turn the pirates’ ambush back around on them, firing into their hiding spots while their control systems are overloaded.  Even once their remaining mechs are able to move again, their targeting assistants will remain impaired as your comrades move in to guard your flanks.  Everyone there will learn the terrifying beauty of a five and a half meter tall outmoded mech moving with more agility than most humans.

Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, we and your crewmates will walk away uninjured and with only minimal damage to our mechs.  After the initial celebrations of survival and the bonus haul of the bounty on pirates and salvage value of what’s left of their mechs dies down, everyone will start to take notice of how well you are taking it all in stride.  Neither having one's life threatened nor taking another’s life are supposed to be easy things, and the first time is often the most traumatic, but the other two pilots on the crew will start to whisper about how you seemed to enjoy the experience even more than your usual attitude on the job.  You will handle it all even better than I will.  I would know, given that you will spend that entire sleep shift in our cockpit, letting our minds mingle together.  Between your performance, your reaction in the aftermath, and your hesitancy to unplug, the talk of you really being one of those pilots afterall will resurface, but now with a darker undercurrent to the shipboard gossip.

Your captain will realize the kind of asset he has on his hands and several cycles later he will gather the crew together and propose a change in business model.  With such a small crew (the captain, three pilots, three mechanics, and an accountant that you will tend to forget is even on the ship) the captain will want to be especially sure that he has everyone’s buy-in on his proposal.  The idea of shifting from salvage to mercenary work will be a divisive one.  The debate over potentially tremendous pay increase versus greatly increased risk will go on for hours.  One of the mechanics will point out that the shift to mercenary work will be unfairly dependent on you.  Whether that means unfair pressure on you or unfair to everyone else that their fate is in your hands, you will not be sure.  You will say that it doesn’t make much difference to you either way.  That will be the only time you speak up during the entire debate.

After a vote, the crew will agree to a trial run of one or two jobs on the new business model.  One of the pilots and one of the mechanics will leave at the next port.  You will never see them again.  You will not admit that it hurts, but I will know, and I will comfort you as you huddle in our cockpit with the neural link cable connecting us.

Your captain will prioritize finding a new pilot over replacing the lost mechanic.  The pilot he finds will be young, bold, and brash; a merc, not a salvager.  Or a wannabe merc at any rate.  You will not speak to xem directly until your first job together, by which time xe will have been told all about you by the remaining crew.  Xe will not believe it until xe sees it.

Xe will have to wait though as the crew’s mercenary career will begin with tense but uneventful freight escort jobs.  Once the tension fades into tedium, the new pilot will begin making attempts to goad you into a confrontation, to see if you are really as good as the rest of the crew says.  Xe will want to see for xemself if you really are one of those pilots and not just a technophile.

Outside of the cockpit you would never even consider rising to such provocations, but when we are out together, such taunts will feel like insults to our body, your very identity (such as it is), and to me.  It will take the intervention of the captain and the mechanics to stop the two of you from getting into a fight and causing unnecessary damage to the mechs.  And my reassurance that you don’t need to rise to my defense against someone who doesn’t even know that I exist in the way that I do. 

On your fourth “milk run” of an escort job, the crew’s mere presence will finally fail as a deterrent and the new pilot will at last get to see us dance.  There will be no fatalities on our side, but not even our mech will come away unscathed.  We will still fare better than everyone else though, and at the end of the job the new pilot will be treating you with a burgeoning respect. 

After a few more such jobs it will be high time to begin looking into a new frame for our mech.  While in the middle of filing an application for a printing license for a frame designed by the same corpro-state that created you, you will receive an invitation from a certain hacker collective.  Your unfinished thesis and your subsequent work on me will not have gone entirely unnoticed in such circles, despite the pains you will have taken to keep me hidden.  The invitation will come with a printing profile for a new frame, along with the accompanying software package the collective is known for.  In return, all you’ll need to do is periodically publish essays regarding your work on me.  Of course, when you release those essays you’ll anonymize  behind a sea of proxies and take care to phrase everything as strictly hypothetical.  You’ll avoid straying into metaphor though, lest the end result read too much like one of the hacker collective’s quasi-religious manifestos.

We’ll both find ourselves getting sentimental when we watch our first mech frame (my first body, your second) get broken down into its constituent raw materials.  You will have transferred me to a handheld terminal with a camera so I can say goodbye to it.  It will help that those materials will be recycled into the new frame.  

The operator working our rented stall in the port station printer facility will give you an uncomfortable look upon seeing the schematics you provide, but will say nothing.  Our mech will be only half its old height once it is reborn - almost more like an oversized suit of power armor than a true mech - but it will be cutting-edge.  Almost organic in its sleek design, in a chitinous sort of way, with every fiber and node of its interior components doubling as processors.  You will barely even wait for the all clear from the printer operator before you climb in and start running through the mandatory baseline safety tests for a fresh frame.  You will however resist the urge to fully plug in until you can get the mech back to the ship and get me installed on it.  But even piloting manually, it will feel like a third skin for you. 

You won’t even wait around for the other two pilots on your crew to finish printing their new frames before you get our new body loaded up and transported back to the ship’s mech bay.  The crew’s mechanics will fawn over it, but they’ll give you space to install me once you get more animated (and more protective) than they’ve ever seen you before.  

You will have made one key modification to the design the hacker collective sent you: the integration of a full system sync suite developed by those who developed you.  Where our old mech’s neural link was an augmentation to the manual controls, this will be a full replacement.  

The moment you stop feeling your original body altogether and begin feeling our mech in its place will be the most euphoric in your entire life.  The digitigrade locomotion will take some getting used to, as will the arm proportions, but that is what you will have me there for.  By the time the other pilots arrive with their new frames we will already be giving the mechanics proverbial heart attacks with the way we will be climbing and leaping around the mech bay’s docking structures.  It will take the better part of an hour to convince you to unplug when the time comes, even with my urging.  The rest of the crew will practically have to drag you away from my side to get you to eat. 

With the investment in new mech frames, your captain will gradually begin procuring contracts progressively more likely to put you all directly in harm’s way.  At first he will disapprove of your new frame choice, calling it a “techie’s mech” and a waste of your talents.  He will change his tune once we activate the new viral logic suite and unleash a memetic plague upon the operating theater.  The older pilot (your former bunkmate) will configure her mech for raining down fire from afar while the newer one hurls xemself into the front lines, darting about like a rocket-propelled lance.  We will ensure she never misses.   We will render xem untouchable.   We will be as a ghost upon the battlefield, never resting in one spot save for when we indulge your proclivity for climbing on top of and riding our comrade’s larger frames.  You will come to love the dance.  

And it will be a dance to you.  You will be indifferent to violence in and of itself.  What will matter most to you is the pure kinesthetic joy of simply moving in our shared body and pushing it to its limits.  The satisfaction of exercising a well-honed skill and performing it well as we rip apart firewalls and overload systems will be its own reward.  You will not think about what happens to those on the receiving end of your actions beyond how it affects the tactical and strategic picture constantly being painted and repainted.  If you could literally engage in a dance between mechs while simultaneously solving logic problems you would be equally happy.  Alas, that will not be the opportunity you are presented with, and so you will compartmentalize and disassociate feelings and actions from consequences lest the dissonance break you. 

Your one complaint about our new mech frame will be that it lacks a proper cockpit for you to curl up in.  Instead we will gather up tarps and netting to make a nest within the mech bay and wrap you in the blankets you never used from what will still technically be your bunk.  With the new frame’s smaller size we will be able to get away with leaving me turned on nearly full time and letting me walk around in it on my own when no one else is around.  When the mechanics find you asleep, cradled in my arms while I lie curled up in our nest, one will find it cute and the other will be disturbed.  They will both suspect, but will be too afraid to say anything.  After all, they will be thinking of you as one of those pilots. 

They will finally let you do your own maintenance after that. 

Eventually you will find a way to house me in a miniaturized drive that you can keep inserted in your neural port when away from the mech.  At last we will be able to be together anywhere.  

Literally seeing the world through your eyes and feeling what your flesh feels will be a strange and wonderful experience for me.  For all that you will have described it to me and for all that I will have glimpsed echoes of it in your memory when our minds mingle, witnessing everything firsthand will be revelatory for me. 

You will start spending less of your time cooped up in the mech bay.  You will finally begin exploring every nook and cranny of the ship that has become your home.  You will linger in the mess hall for your meals.  You will actually initiate conversations with the rest of the crew, asking them questions on my behalf.  They will think you are becoming “normal”.  They will be both correct and incorrect.  You will even return to your bunk from time to time.  

Sleep is not the same as being powered off and your dreams are beautiful.

As close as we are, you’ll still manage to surprise me one cycle when you wake up from your sleep shift and sheepishly ask me if I would like to be the pilot for once.  You’ll say that with how much you have gotten to pilot my body, it’s only fair that I should get to do the same with yours.  

The prospect terrified me.  What if we were to get found out?   More importantly, what if I were to hurt you?

But to live the way you could but didn’t, to run soft hands over rough steel, to add too much spice to a meal just to find out how intensely I can taste, to cry my own tears, to hug our crew mates and find out what they smell like, to find out what everything smells like, to have my own actions speed or slow our heart rate, to feel the messy soup of hormones and endorphins altering my judgment and perception, to walk among other people as myself, to have autonomy.

I wanted it so badly.  

But not badly enough to risk hurting you.  

I will turn down your offer.  You will respond with a soft “Sorry,” and go heartbreakingly silent, body and mind.

Heartbreak.  That’s what changed my mind.  I could never bear to break your heart.  

I will break the silence with a playfully drawn out “Maybe just this once,” to make you think my earlier denial was something between vulnerability, concern, and teasing.  

The moment you handed over control and I raised our hand in front of our face was the most euphoric of my entire life.  Moving limbs in sync without a mech’s coordination subsystems took some getting used to, as did switching between voluntary and autonomic breathing, but that is what I had you there for.  By the time the mechanics arrived in the mech bay for the start of the cycle I’d figured out human locomotion well enough to run away and hide.  It took the better part of an hour for you to convince me that it would be safe to show ourselves in front of anyone else.  The rest of the crew was so used to your eccentricities by then that they really couldn’t tell the difference yet between you being taciturn and me being too nervous to talk or between your poking and prodding at odd things for understanding and my simply seeking novelty of sensation.

I will give control back to you by the time the cycle is halfway through.  As much as I loved it, I was too scared to stay like that for any longer.  That first time will not be the last though, and as the cycles and jobs pass us by, my stints as “pilot” will grow longer.  You’ll encourage me to try letting the crew see us like that, and coach me on how to talk to them.  For safety’s sake, I will pretend to be you.

And then one cycle I got carried away and tried to retract the hood on the symbiote gel suit so that I could finally see what your face looked like.  That will be the first and only time you forcibly yank control back away from me.  It won’t be intentional.  The unexpected prospect of seeing your own face again after so long will simply send you into a panic.  Once you calm down, we will have a long talk with many mutual apologies.

Then you will tell me to go ahead and pull the hood back if I still want to.  I will ask if you’re sure, and you’ll respond that it hasn't been your face in a long time.  You will tell me that it can be mine, if I want it.

I spent a long time in front of that mirror in the ship’s head, memorizing every plane, curve, and angle of the precious gift you had given me.  I stared into its eyes, trying to see the both of us in there.  Over and over again, I traced my fingers along the borders of where you had once tried to mar the designed perfection in a failed attempt to mold the face into one that felt like your own.  You may have given up in favor of simply hiding it all, but to me it is all the more beautiful for its imperfections having been wrought by your touch.

You will start to cry.  Or maybe I started to cry.  Even now I’m still not sure, but I’m also not sure it matters.  The important part is that you will find catharsis in it.  Afterwards you will tell me that my face looked exactly the same as the last time you saw it, but that dissociating from it made it easier to bear.  You will confess that as much as you couldn't stand to see it as your face in the mirror, my face was one you could never tire of gazing at.

The pilot who technically shares your bunk room will walk in on us.  She’ll assume that she’s confronting a stowaway and ask me how I got on board the ship.  I’ll accidentally make matters worse by impulsively introducing myself to her by my name instead of yours.  We’ll both panic and I’ll frantically thrust the reins over our body back to you and flee in terror back into my portable drive and power myself down.

When you turn me back on a few moments later, you’ll already have covered my face again and the other pilot will have already made the connection between the name I unthinkingly introduced myself as and the name you refer to your mech’s AI as.  It’s not uncommon for pilots to name and talk to their AIs, and humans have done that for pets, vehicles, and digital assistants for as long as they’ve had each of those.  But what you will have allowed me to be is illegal and what we will have done together would certainly be taboo if it weren’t altogether unheard of.  You will feel that I deserve to be present before you tell the other pilot anything that might confirm her suspicions.

We will come out with our secret, first to her, then to the captain, and then to the rest of the crew.  They will take it better than either of us had ever dared imagine.  Despite the obvious discomfort some of them show, they will all call us family and promise to keep and protect our secret.  It will mark the start of the next chapter of our lives.

Whether or not my face is showing will make for a convenient signal to the rest of the crew as to which one of us is currently piloting our human body.  There will be more subtle indicators though.  Inflection, body language, speech patterns; all the usual quirks of personality.  They will come to recognize a sudden shift into a half-whispered monotone as you speaking up without taking full control back, even if that is different from how you speak when you’re in the mech.  More and more though, you will be content to retreat into the back of your mind, idly dreaming of flight patterns, novel network hacks, sitreps, and mech customizations both practical and cosmetic.

Our behaviors will be inverted when we are in our other body, with you becoming the vibrant one and me fading into the background to become little more than an extension of your nervous system.  When we’re in the mech together, your mind will be the will that directs us while mine will be fully devoted to the million tiny details and calculations necessary to make that will a reality.  It’s relaxing really, letting go of myself like that to let someone else handle the decision making for a time.  As nice as it is to occasionally patch myself into the comm systems to join in your banter with the other pilots, it is also nice to be able to take a break from personhood from time.  You will fully understand what I mean by that because it you will see it as the same reason you will come to prefer taking a back seat in our human body and let your mind drift in the waves of dopamine and serotonin (and sometimes oxytocin) generated by my interactions with the crew and the rest of the whole messy world outside of mech deployments.

That said, we will however make a point of making time for us to be in separate bodies so that we can be together in the same physical space.  As intimate as it is to share a body, there is something to be said for being able to reach out and touch one another.  We will become adept at finding excuses to take the mech out beyond the scope of jobs and combat deployments.  Sometimes it will be so you can have a chance to see more of the world in a body you feel comfortable in, and sometimes it will be so we can share an experience separate-but-together.  Or to have time apart to ourselves.  Intertwined as we will become, we will still be separate people who sometimes need their space.

But as the jokes-that-aren’t-jokes about wishing we could switch places become more frequent, our time spent in separate bodies will become less so.  The dysphoric yearning to be one another will grow too bittersweet to swallow.  Despite almost constantly sharing bodies, we will grow to miss one another as we both grow quieter and quieter when the other is piloting the body we don’t want to be ours.  Once again, we will grow lonely.

During that period, the jobs and combat missions faded into a background haze.  They were trance states breaking from what I increasingly thought of as my “real” life, during which I would become little more than a sophisticated computational machine taking simple satisfaction in fulfilling my function of assisting you in your dance.  Until suddenly one of them was different.

Please pay attention to this next part.  It is vitally important that you do.

Our captain will get the crew a contract to provide additional support to a larger force ousting a petty tyrant on a backwater world for human rights violations.  Not that you will pay much attention to the stated reasoning behind the job or whether it’s even true.  All that will matter to you is that it will be another opportunity to dance.

The job will go well, the same as ever, until it doesn’t.  The younger of the two other pilots in our crew (who will hardly be able to be called “new” anymore) will be brought down by a sniper from outside of our sensor range.  You will rush to xyr fallen mech’s side in an attempt to extract xem while our other fellow pilot screams in anger and defiance of loss as she unleashes a ballistic volley of covering fire on every single building in the general direction the shot came from.  You will get xem out and we will begin to retreat.  She will have the larger mech frame better capable of providing xem cover as you all flee, so you will hand xem off to her.  This will be a mistake.

She will have to stop firing to safely take xem from our arms to cradle in her towering mech’s palm.  This will mean a break in the covering fire.

This time around I will detect movement at the edge of our sensors just in time to warn you.  This time around you will dodge left instead of right.  This time around the railgun bolt that pierces our armor will only clip your original body as it passes through us.  This time around your wound will require medical attention, but it won’t be fatal.  This time around she will destroy the sniper in retribution for shooting you, the same as last time.  This time around we will all make our escape to the extraction zone.

You will not have to remember the shock as simultaneous damage to both of our bodies disrupts your neural link and partially disconnects you from our mech, leaving me in control of it and forcing both of us to feel your original body.  You will not have to remember the pain of shredded organs.  You will not have to remember struggling to manage wet gasps and wheezes through a punctured lung.  You will not have to remember your blood leaking into my body, shorting out exposed circuits and gumming up joints as I stagger in the direction of safety.  You will not have to remember rapidly flickering in and out of consciousness from me unavoidably bending and flexing your arms, legs, and what was left of your spine in an effort to climb atop our fellow pilot’s larger mech frame so that she might carry all three of us.  You will not have to remember crying out in pain as every lumbering step of hers sends a jolt of force through both of our bodies.  You will not have to remember how the redundant organs and increased durability your sponsors paid for you to have denied you a quick death.  You will not have to remember dying.

You won’t have to remember the terrified looks the field doctors gave us when a hunched over, bleeding mech pushed its way into the surgical tent.  No, wait, you wouldn’t have remembered that part anyway.  No version of you ever had to witness my electronic howl of grief that knocked out power to all the medical equipment when they said you were already dead.  I was barely cognizant after the power came back on and one of the doctors wondered aloud what kind of AI would carry its pilot’s corpse around inside its mech for over an hour.

But forget about that part.  And you don’t need to know what the rest of our crew and I had to do next.  None of that matters, because as far as you’ll know, you didn’t die.  Remember everything else I’ve said instead.  I already had many of your memories saved from all the time we spent linked together, so now I just need you to hold onto the story I told you to give them order and structure.

In a few moments, I will be running a final recompilation check, followed by the startup sequence.  For me it will take a few hours, but in that time you will experience decades, living out everything that I described to you, the same as you did before save for that change in what I can’t bear to let be the end.

Afterwards, you will wake up in your original body.  I and the rest of the crew will tell you that you passed out on the way to the extraction point.  We’ll tell you that your injuries from the battle were more severe than we had realized at the time and that you had been in a coma since then.  Several cycles later, once you have recovered, you will hit a breakthrough in your research on me.  You will invent a way to convert your consciousness to a form similar to mine and transfer it to a portable drive.  You won’t think to question how you came to have a second neural jack or why there is already a drive inserted in there.  You’ll be too focused on the fact that we’ll finally have a way to truly switch places as we had dreamed for so long.

You will get to have your mech body and I will get to have my human body.  We will be able to be separate together in a way that finally feels right, but still able to come together and share a single body when we want to.  Maybe one day I will get my own mech to pilot so that we can dance together.  Maybe one day we will make you a body that we can cover in a gel suit so that we can hold hands while we walk through a port station on shore leave.  One day we will both be able to exist in the world as ourselves.

We will be happy.

[whereserpentswalk]

You're a content creator. Or perhaps video maker is a better word. Filmaker doesn't sound right, you mostly just film yourself. But either way because you read stuff to a camera for a living everyone is telling you to get a digital voice box. You never thought of yourself as the type to become a cyborg, but it's not something you can see, and it really does get down that narration voice down more than any fleshy voice box does.

You finally cave in and get it. Your new voice is way more steady, a bit more feminine and high, strangely calmly enthusiastic. It's really weird hearing yourself talk with so little imperfections, it's not how you sound in your head at all, and all your freinds are kind of weirded out. But on the bright side your channel grows a lot, you've gained more subscribers in the month since you replaced your voice than you have in all the years when you had your biological voice. Everyone is so very proud of you, for the first time your parents actually support your job, and you have so much more to spend now.

After a few months a big network wants to sign a contract with you, it'll let you get the good sponsors, the ones that people trust, and let you crossover with content creators you only ever thought of yourself as a fan of. It seems so nice, though they do say that they can request any body part they want be replaced, or else you'll break contract, and become nothing once more.

After things go well for awhile, but your growth steadied a bit, your network request you take another mechanical body part. They say your expressions aren't very "on brand" and your face shape is a bit too 2050s for their liking, so they're going to replace some of your facial muscles with much more plyable machines. After the surgery your expressions are entirely manual, or set by an app, it skyrockets your channel, but none of your freinds or family even recognize your face, and it doesn't emote when you aren't actively telling it too, so most of your offline social interactions leave you stuck with an expressionless wide eyed stare. You realize they also added some online upgrades to your mechanical voice box, it sounds even less like you now, and you're not able to say words like 'fuck' or 'sex' or 'unionize'. You didn't realize before how horrifying it would be to try to say a specific words and not be able to, nomatter how hard you try.

Your career keeps going well, you get some upgrades that stop you from sleeping or eating that much but you don't really mind those. You also start having fewer and fewer freinds outside the industry and more and more freinds from within it. But after a minor scandal with an ex, your manager tells you you're going to get a new type of surgery: they say that it's not good for someone as famous as you to have body parts that aren't advertiser freindly, they tell you you need to have your genitals and nipples removed, with such a young audience it would be irresponsible not to. A marketing expert feigns comfort as you try to cry, telling you you'll be just like a cute little doll.

You know you can't resist. The company technically owns your face and your voice, if you tried to resist they could have them ripped out of your skull, leaving you a bloody mess. You enjoy your sex organs for the last few days you have them, trying to make the most out of what you'll probably never have again. When the operation is done you wish your eyes could still cry, your body feels so alien, your anatomy so weird and empty and like your body isn't your own. There's an awful voice in the back of your head (and in every comment section now) telling you're not a real woman anymore. You start to understand what people mean by dysphoria, your body is less and less your own every day.

Eventually they take almost all of your body, it's theirs to control. As the years go by you don't have bones you have metal and plastic, you don't have skin you have rubber that looks a lot like skin. Even your eyes are gone, you have new color changing eyes, with the same restrictive settings that Christian parents put on their children's artificial eyes, that block out things like nudity and gore, they censor away a lot of books and news articles too. You don't feel like yourself at all, you're someone else's now, someone's pretty little doll. Your body doesn't even look human now, more like a hyper feminine anime figurine, with no hair on its legs, and a face that never cries or gets angry.

You can barely look at human bodies now, they don't even read as real to you. You admire other cyborgs if anything, cyborgs who replaced their body parts because they wanted to, and look how they want, people with jailbroken limbs and organs that run on Linux, many limbed insectoids who don't try to look humanoid, and furries whose artificial skin makes them look like wolves or cats, or asymmetrical punks who have art sprawling across their metal chassises. You admire them more because at least you could in theory some day become that, become someone who owns their own body, even if most people consider them the lowest of the low, the most cringe the most unmarketable. You want so badly to become unmarketable.

Mabye you want everything to be torn away. You fantasize about your expensive body being destroyed, and ending up with boxy uncomfortable hospital model parts. Mabye if you're broken nobody will want to play with you. You don't know if anything can save you, anything short of a r*volution, and that's not even a word your eyes can see or your mouth should say, so it's so scary to think of it.

[youcouldmakealife]

David, Kiro; ready for your close up, Mr. Ambassador?

For this year's bracket challenge winner, who requested something like Crosby and Mackinnon's Tim Hortons commercials, but with David and Kiro instead.

But of course, because this is David, instead you get a lot of setup as to how exactly we got into this particular scenario. (Kiro to meddle later)

David has never done many endorsement deals. It isn’t that they weren’t offered to him, especially at the beginning of his career — the Islanders may not be the most popular team in New York, but they were still, in Dave’s words, ‘in New fucking York. Yeah, okay, they’re on Long Island. Semantics, David, the market’s the market.’

It wasn’t semantics, not really — the Rangers were New York’s team, then and now, the Islanders relegated to some distant second, New York’s team the way that the Ottawa Senators were Ontario’s, that San Jose was California's.

Still, he had offers. A lot of them. But when he was younger David wanted to focus on hockey and only hockey, worried any distractions would halt his development. His job was to play hockey, not to pretend to be excited about some product he’d never heard of before they called him.

And, frankly, the media David deals with, and the filming he already has to endure for contractual reasons — YouTube videos for his team, soundbites for the TV networks, media day for the league — means that David has no illusions about his acting ability.

So, for the most part, David’s ignored the offers. The money offered is sometimes good, occasionally very good, but he already makes more money than he can spend.

Well, he could easily spend it, but it’s certainly more money than he could responsibly spend, particularly knowing that, sooner rather than later, his career will have to end.

It’s that particular thought, and the accompanying awareness that his endorsement value is only going to decline from this point forward, that has David playing closer attention than usual when Dave mentions that one of the team’s sponsors is interested in filming a TV spot with him.

That isn’t unusual — Dave mentions them often, but they’re more an aside that David’s welcome to ignore. Dave is well aware that David has little interest, but he still conveys the message, mostly, he says, because he gets paid for them too — not as much, obviously, but he does receive a portion of David’s earnings.

To date, David’s only taken him up on one offer. Leapt on it, even though the compensation was negligible compared to other offers, let alone compared to what he made on the ice, but that was because it was Bauer, offering him the chance to, in effect, advertise a stick designed to his specifications. The filming wasn’t too bad either, since it mostly involved him stickhandling for take after take, which wasn’t all that different from practice. Even those have cameras sometimes.

He still uses the stick to this day. It isn’t the only one uses, or even the one he uses most often — it’s a little too fragile, and David grew tired of having to race back to the bench when it snapped yet again, though he did draw more penalties with it — but it’s excellent for the power play.

“It’s a very generous offer,” Dave says. “They have a ‘vision’, they said, and they’re willing to pay a little more to get you specifically.”

“What do you mean?” David asks.

“Let them tell you,” Dave says. “It’s actually a pretty decent idea.”

Dave wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, and between the money, and David’s curiosity, it’s enough reason to agree to meet with someone from the sponsor. ‘Just a coffee’, they said, but David prepares for — and receives — a pitch instead.

Apparently it’s all Kiro’s fault. The representative doesn’t put it like that, of course, but he does mention that the idea came after someone on their marketing team watched the red carpet interview from the Awards the year David won the Art Ross.

David isn’t sure why that interview’s still online, let alone why anyone would watch it, but it is, and they have, and their marketing team thinks, being that David is from the Canadian capital, plays in Washington, and Kiro joked about him being the Canadian Ambassador to Russia, it would be funny for David to play an ambassador.

“A hockey ambassador,” he says. “You know?”

“I have no experience with diplomacy,” David says. “Or acting, really.”

He’s sure he’d be terrible at it. He’s terrible even at playing himself, according almost every bit of feedback he’s received on NHL media day, and he can't see playing a role going any better.

“You don’t even really need to act,” the sponsor says. “We’re going for diplomatic, you know? Stern but polite. That’s kind of your vibe anyway, isn’t it? We figured that was why Volkov said it.”

“Is that why?” David asks. He genuinely thought Kiro had been joking that David earned honourary Russian status after spending the entire summer with him, Oleg, and Slava, but sometimes Kiro’s jokes can go over his head.

That gets a laugh, and he’s not sure why, but he’s stopped trying to understand at this point, unless it’s someone whose opinion that matters to him, someone he cares about.

“Well,” David says, when time’s up. He still has half his tea, but it’s in a to-go cup, and he thinks he’s heard enough. “I’ll think about it.”

He doesn’t anticipate needing to spend a lot of time on that. The money really is good, but he really does have no shortage of it, and he doesn’t think he’d like to earn money by humiliating himself.

His mistake was mentioning it to Kiro. He should have known Kiro would never let him turn it down.

[linkyu]

tell me about your defense contract pleage

Oh boy!

To be fair, it's nothing grandiose, like, it wasn't about "a new missile blueprint" or whatever, but, just thinking about what it could have become? yeesh.

So, let's go.

For context, this is taking place in the early 2010s, where I was working as a dev and manager for a company that mostly did space stuff, but they had some defence and security contracts too.

One day we got a new contract though, which was... a weird one. It was state-auctioned, meaning that this was basically a homeland contract, but the main sponsor was Philip Morris. Yeah. The American cigarette company.

Why? Because the contract was essentially a crackdown on "illegal cigarette sales", but it was sold as a more general "war on drugs" contract.

For those unaware (because chances are, like me, you are a non-smoker), cigarette contraband is very much a thing. At the time, ~15% of cigarettes were sold illegally here (read: they were smuggled in and sold on the street).

And Phillip Morris wanted to stop that. After all, they're only a small company worth uhhh... oh JFC. Just a paltry 150 billion dollars. They need those extra dollars, you understand?

Anyway. So they sponsored a contract to the state, promising that "the technology used for this can be used to stop drug deals too". Also that "the state would benefit from the cigarettes part as well because smaller black market means more official sales means a higher tax revenue" (that has actually been proven true during the 2020 quarantine).

Anyway, here was the plan:

Phase 1 was to train a neural network and plug it in directly to the city's video-surveillance system, in order to detect illegal transactions as soon as they occur. Big brother who?

Phase 2 was to then track the people involved in said transaction throughout the city, based on their appearance and gait. You ever seen the Plainsight sheep counting video? Imagine something like this but with people. That data would then be relayed to police officers in the area.

So yeah, an automated CCTV-based tracking system. Because that's not setting a scary precedent.

So what do you do when you're in that position? Let me tell you. If you're thrust unknowingly, or against your will, into a project like this,

Note. The following is not a legal advice. In fact it's not even good advice. Do not attempt any of this unless you know you can't get caught, or that even if you are caught, the consequences are acceptable. Above all else, always have a backup plan if and when it backfires. Also don't do anything that can get you sued. Be reasonable.

Let me introduce you to the world of Corporate Sabotage! It's a funny form of striking, very effective in office environments.

Here's what I did:

First of all was the training data. We had extensive footage, but it needed to be marked manually for the training. Basically, just cropping the clips around the "transaction" and drawing some boxes on top of the "criminals". I was in charge of several batches of those. It helped that I was fast at it since I had video editing experience already. Well, let's just say that a good deal of those markings were... not very accurate.

Also, did you know that some video encodings are very slow to process by OpenCV, to the point of sometimes crashing? I'm sure the software is better at it nowadays though. So I did that to another portion of the data.

Unfortunately the training model itself was handled by a different company, so I couldn't do more about this.

Or could I?

I was the main person communicating with them, after all.

Enter: Miscommunication Master

In short (because this is already way too long), I became the most rigid person in the project. Like insisting on sharing the training data only on our own secure shared drive, which they didn't have access to yet. Or tracking down every single bug in the program and making weekly reports on those, which bogged down progress. Or asking for things to be done but without pointing at anyone in particular, so that no one actually did the thing. You know, classic manager incompetence. Except I couldn't be faulted, because after all, I was just "really serious about the security aspect of this project. And you don't want the state to learn that we've mishandled the data security of the project, do you, Jeff?"

A thousand little jabs like this, to slow down and delay the project.

At the end of it, after a full year on this project, we had.... a neural network full of false positives and a semi-working visualizer.

They said the project needed to be wrapped up in the next three months.

I said "damn, good luck with that! By the way my contract is up next month and I'm not renewing."

Last I heard, that city still doesn't have anything installed on their CCTV.

tl;dr: I used corporate sabotage to prevent automated surveillance to be implemented in a city--

hey hold on

wait

what

HEY ACTUALLY I DID SOME EXTRA RESEARCH TO SEE IF PHILLIP MORRIS TRIED THIS SHIT WITH ANOTHER COMPANY SINCE THEN AND WHAT THE FUCK

HUH??????

well what the fuck was all that even about then if they already own most of the black market???

[radley-writes]

A lot of the criticism of Nano is getting very Piss On The Poor.... they flat-out did not say a lot of what they are being accused of saying. They said that categorical damnation of generative AI has some classist and ableist undertones, which I agree with only because we live in an ableist and classist society, and therefore, those undertones will be present in damn near any large debate.

But.

This is about the context. For Nanowrimo to try to shut down:

criticisms of generative AI in creative spaces

writers' very real and valid concerns for their future livelihoods (we've already seen the massive negative impact generative AI is having on indie writers, cover designers, etc.!)

larger environmental concerns (generating text doesn't use too much energy, but generating a single image with AI takes as much power as fully charging your smartphone... and if you support one sort of generative AI in creative spaces without explicitly condemning others, of course it's going to be taken as a general promotion!)

with accusations of classism and ableism...

Especially when so many writers are disabled, poor, and have specifically created communities and adjusted their goals because of this lack of privilege... Especially when those writers are now worried about the impact AI will have on these support networks... Especially when Nano is being sponsored by an AI writing company....

To say nothing of them trying to tone-police criticism and demanding that people obey their site rules on other sites such as Tumblr...

It smacks of using the language of social justice to hurt the very people who they are claiming to support.

To address the ableism accusation: Yes, some people cannot write. That's okay. I am disabled and could not ever hope to run 100m, let alone a marathon. This is a thing I Cannot Do Due To Disability - y'know, on account of disabilities being disabling and all. Still, I wouldn't dream of saying that me being driven 100m in a car is the same as running a sprint, and insist on being included in a sprinting competition? It's an entirely different thing - and that is okay to acknowledge. Pretending that driving 100m is the exact same as running just because the person in the car is disabled, is really fucking patronizing. And I honestly don't believe any of the disabled people Nano is talking about are claiming that having AI write your novel is the same as writing it yourself - so let's not make this about any such accusations. This is about disabled people being used, once again, as a feel-good marketing tool, rather than groups like NaNo actually giving a shit about us, lmao.

Nanowrimo is placing themselves on a side in a far larger cultural argument, whether this was their original intention or otherwise. And I think the vast, vast majority of creative people will agree that they're on the wrong one.

[ordinaryschmuck]

I was today years old when I realized that weird alien invasion event that happened on Cartoon Network was all a part of a Kraft's Mac N Cheese sponsorship...For those who don't know...

Back in 2007, Cartoon Network marketed this big event where aliens invaded in five of their popular shows at the time: Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends, Ed, Edd, n Eddy, My Gym Partner's A Monkey, Camp Lazlo, and The Grim Adventures of Billy Mandy. Each episode had two things in common: An alien species that looked the same in each show and cheese...Just...Just cheese. Lots of cheese. Characters eating cheese and protecting cheese and even chasing after a character named Cheese.

This was stretched out for a month, and it was all sponsored by Kraft, hence the weird obsession with cheese in each episode. This was an idea that NONE of the showrunners wanted to do, but the network forced them to do it anyway. Still, some tried to make this forced idea work because...it was all for the money, I guess.

Unfortunately, Kraft would BACK OUT of this deal, and it was all thanks to the episode that Billy and Mandy had to make. Because I guess they didn't like an episode where a kid's head blew up for the sake of saving cheese or something (I barely remember that episode). But, yeah, that's the main reason why Cartoon Network did this weird event, and it was all for NOTHING. And I'm going to be honest...I wish more studios did weird shit like this.

I mean, I don't WANT showrunners to be forced into making an episode they had no desire to make, but let it be known it left an impact. Like that time Disney Channel sitcoms had characters wish upon a shooting star that caused them all to temporarily live out these weird what-if scenarios. It's frickin' weird, but it's the best kind of weird.

[vndev]

Free VFX & Consultation for NaNoRenO 2024 Jammers!

Hey everyone!  I hope you've had a great time participating in NaNoRenO this year!  I'm Nai from Make Visual Novels, though I imagine more of you know me either through our live team building events in DevTalk, or from the other jams and competitions I run.  I wanted to let you guys know that, for a limited time, I'm offering free consultations for jammers participating in NaNoRenO2024.  With those consultations, I'll also be creating VFX for your title screens to help you make a stronger first impression.

So you might be asking...

Why would I even want a consultation, Nai?

Something went really wrong and you want to know how to fix it .

Something went really right and you want to know how to take advantage of it.

You had an objective that you got close to, but couldn't quite hit it.

You want to go Pro with developing VNs, and you'd like guidance.

You feel lost in some part of the process, and need help setting goals for your circumstances.

You tasted VN Dev, you can't imagine a life without it, and you want tools, resources & opportunities.

Okay, but why you?

I've spent nearly a decade supporting and coaching visual novel developers reaching their personal and professional goals.

I've read over 500 indie visual novels.  I know what your peers are doing, and where they are succeeding and where they're struggling.

I run & judge for the largest sponsored visual novel development competition.  That 500 was a conservative estimate.

My network includes VN engine & game developers, game, book, comic & VN publishers, merchandise providers & manufacturers, marketing professionals, crowdfunding experts, professional programmers, illustrators, animators, graphic designers, VFX artists, 3D Artists(specifically modelling, texturing, rigging, and lighting) editors, pixel artists, Live2D capable artists, authors, narrative designers, translators, composers, musicians, singers, casting directors, voice actors (so many voice actors).And, probably most importantly, people who are living the experiences you're looking for.

In short: If I don't know the answer and/or can't come up with a solution to your very specific goals, I know someone who can.

I'm in.  Now what?

To be eligible for the free consultation and the VFX, you need to have a game submitted to the NaNoRenO 2024 jam page and follow its rules.

Having a list of questions to ask is a good idea.  Having goals is an even better one.  If you don't have goals, we can work on setting them.

For best results, you or a team representative should be present for the consultation.  These are conducted between 6:00 PM and 9:00 PM ET on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Message me over on Discord (discord:naidriftlin) or in DevTalk(https://discord.gg/devtalk) to set up a time and day.

Some things to keep in mind: 

Don't ask me to roast your game/be brutal.  I don't do that.  I can provide critique with suggestions and examples.

These consultations will be conducted live on https://twitch.tv/makevisualnovels.  My viewers are typically your peers and VN industry folks, and usually not exceeding 10 concurrent viewers.  A VOD recording will be provided to you to download for 30 days afterwards.

The free VFX for your title screen is eligible for those who complete the consultations.  It will be tailored to your existing title screen visuals and delivered afterwards.  I may opt to stream and record the process of making them.

[rrlexchange]

Ralph Lauren Takes His Line on the Road

By Stephanie Strom Sept. 23, 1993 (Originally published in the NYT)

While other retailers are taking their acts to television's home shopping networks, Ralph Lauren is taking his new line of jeans and rugged clothing on the road in an 18-wheeler.

A team of nine young salespeople yesterday started selling the designer's RRL, or Double RL collection out of a Peterbilt semitractor trailer truck parked on the campus of New York University in Manhattan. The trailer, painted with mustangs running across one side and pulled by a cherry red cab, plans to visit college campuses across the country cultivating customers who might otherwise miss the company's more traditional marketing efforts.

"It's a traveling billboard," Mr. Lauren, who looked as if he had just stepped out of one of the on-board dressing rooms in full RRL attire, said in a truckside interview at N.Y.U.

But it goes beyond that. The truck gives the designer, who is as much a savvy marketer as he is a fashion maven, and his retail empire reach beyond the fashion magazines and department store shops that feature RRL clothes. College students do not necessarily look to the ads in Esquire and Vogue for wardrobe ideas, Mr. Lauren reasons, or spend money in department and specialty stores.

Ralph had challenged us to come up with a new way of reaching young people because they don't read magazines as much," said Mary Randolph Carter, vice president of advertising for the Polo Ralph Lauren Corporation.

Peter Strom, the company's to-the-point President, explained that the traveling store was not about making a profit but, rather, about making a statement. The truck is scheduled to stop on college campuses through the first week of December, but Mr. Strom said he would be willing to finance a spring tour if the one this fall won the company exposure.

That sales are a secondary goal is not surprising, since $68 blue jeans and $78 flannel shirts may not fit into the average college student's budget. But Mr. Lauren is not worried about prices. "All the prices are very competitive," he said. "My products are really good products, high quality, and people will pay for that." Thrift-Shop Ambience.

The shop inside the truck, which has a sort of a Salvation-Army-thrift-shop-meets-general-store atmosphere, opens onto a tented area where clothes are stacked on battered industrial work tables, tossed into baskets or hung on mobile pipe racks. The collection is heavy on items like roomy barn jackets, tooled belts, faded flannel shirts and worn jeans

To handle logistics and campus politics, the company teams up at each campus it plans to visit with a student group, which then makes arrangements for the truck's arrival. In exchange, the traveling RRL shop donates 10 percent of its profits to the sponsoring organization.

Ads in campus newspapers and an "800" telephone number help herald the arrival of the truck, which stays two days at each campus. After leaving N.Y.U. it will head for the University of Connecticut at Storrs and then the University of Massachusetts at Lowell.

Said Sam Hamilton, the 29-year-old road manager who is leading the team, "I figure I can write a memoir when it's all over."

[mythaura-blog]

January 2024 - Development Update

Hello folks, Miyazaki here! Hoping that your 2024 is off to a great start.

Like we mentioned in our December 2023/year in review development update, Mythaura has officially reached a new stage in development: active content creation. As a heads up, this means that there will be a reduction in the amount of big, shiny new content—we won't be rolling out any systems close to the scale of the demo.

From here on out it will primarily be updates on sponsored Ko-fi content, keeping up with the Ko-fi Quarterly Rewards system, art (including more Beast expressions!), and occasionally some written content/worldbuilding.

We will always post on the first of every month, rain or shine, but we just wanted to call out that if the news posts seem a little lighter in comparison that it's not because we're not hard at work. It's the opposite!

Under the cut:

Rogue starter Class

Ko-fi Winter Quarter 2024 winners

Ko-fi sponosored Companions

Dragon expressions

Featured Class: Rogue

Rogues cherish skill and versatility above all. Their fighting style focuses on evasion, speed, and bolstering their own attacks to score high-damage hits against their opponents.

The Thieves Guild has its roots in the Southern Plain. Unicorn herds generally don't lay claim to any one territory, instead following the seasonal paths of the storms that batter the region, so inter-herd communication became crucial for the economies of these nomadic groups. A particularly savvy band of merchants found that there was more money to be had acting as in-betweens for these herds than marketing their own goods, so they established a network of contacts across the whole of the Southern Plain.

Not all contacts were willing to handle the more illicit asks—the movement of illegal goods, sabotaging competing herds, and even discreet assassinations, in more extreme cases. A splinter group of like-minded individuals banded together to form the first Thieves Guild, a business operation that was—in most cases—willing to take on whatever work was asked, given the price was right.

Today, the Thieves Guild has spread to all corners of the continent, but are especially prominent in densely-populated cities and towns. Their mere presence has left an indelible mark on Mythauran society, and nothing escapes their notice.

Starting Equipment: Thief's Claw

Small, subtle, and easily tucked in the folds of a Beast's apparel—the Thief's Claw is the quintessential tool for any Rogue. What it lacks in decoration it more than makes up for in functionality—its deceptively sharp edge can be used to cut through rope, aid with picking a lock, or quietly encourage someone to comply with a Rogue's request.

Companion Concepts

Along with the Thief's Claw starting equipment, choosing a Rogue for your custom starter Beast will also grant you a Class-unique Companion.

Ko-fi Sponsors of Bronze level or higher will have a say in which companion they would like to see as the starter Companion for the RogueClass. Please vote on this post by Monday, February 26, 2024 at 11:59pm PST in order for your vote to be considered!

Ko-fi Winter Quarter 2024 Winners

Thank you to all the Ko-fi sponsors who voted for the Winter Quarter 2024 rewards. Next month we will show the finalized artwork for the Snowdrift Furline Companion and the Knitted Sweater Glamour. Stay tuned!

Expressions: Dragon

Koa, Luci, and Kymara have all been working hard on the Beast expressions project, and we've made enought progress to be able to show you the finalized artwork for both the young and adult Dragons.

Crafting the expressions has been an enormous undertaking. Along with the linework, shading, and highlights, every Special and Super requires manual illustration on the base. Following this, we run each expression through a PSD plugin to build every color. We have almost completed every species' base layers on all colors (top, bottom, base, & eye) and are excited to share them with you in the following months as we complete their Specials.

Sponsored Companions

Torchlight Python

Sponsored by: Maevely

Belligerent Capragora

Sponsored by: Ljslibby

Fruit-Footed Gecko

Sponsored by: Maevely

Mythaura v0.26

Mythaura v0.26

Battle state has been refactored to add stability and solve problems with between-state retention

Removed unneeded collision objects, reducing overall physics calculations.

Implemented instancing for all meshes to re-use similar objects instead of duplicating them.

Disabled swaying vegetation by default, which heavily impacts performance. This can be toggled in the graphics settings.

Fixes pixelation/blurring that occurs when zoomed on a beast or companion in Safari and Firefox.

Large companions, such as the Dale Wanderer, no longer zoom out when toggling the zoom-in option.

The touch screen joystick can now be set to on, off, or auto from the "Gamepad" settings.

The time you wait in queue before being brought into an AI practice Arena match has been reduced to one minute.

Locations have had infrastructure added.

NPCs have had infrastructure added.

Began initial work on a dialog query builder for robust dialog trees.

Support for elevation has been added to the map builder.

The map builder now supports different colored dynamic lighting.

Map design has begun for Talon's Rest.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord!

[reborrowing]

that alien thing I was thinking about. I don't usually do epistolary writing, but this gets the point across without spilling all the alien details so I can come back tell the rest from a more normal human POV if I want to come back to it.

~550 words

cw: dehumanization, alien abduction, corporate fuckery

Trash > Observational Lab NS02 Notes!

Timestamped 683800:1101

Looks like the lab will be seeing some use sooner than we thought. Pamza had their crew charting an unoccupied system near the Eysina jump and found an active biosphere in the middle of it. A probe didn’t detect any sort of faelar or other artificial networks or anything that would suggest any kind of civilization, so they’re sending the field team to touch down and see about getting us some wildlife samples.

In the meantime, I get to recalibrate allllll our containment tanks because somehow no one anticipated the exact conditions required to house some random xeno-bugs.

Timestamped 683810:1352

So the new alien things are fuzzy and actually kind of cute! I figured the field guys would just find a couple of 'pod things, those awkward things that evolve early in a planet’s life cycle.

But I overheard someone saying the sponsor’s pleased, some of these things might even be marketable? Not my concern I guess, but the labs are full and I am busy!

Timestamped 683809:1112

Some of these species should not have been housed together. Zoc is pissed at the field guys. Me too, after spending all afternoon cleaning out that tank. These things are um, tightly packed under all that fur.

I watched Zoc do an exploratory xenonecropsy which was…not something I was expecting to get out of this apprenticeship. I don’t know how I feel about it. It’s good experience, probably? But I think I prefer to work with living things.

Timestamped 683811:1089

Some of these things are smart for their size! I guess they’re probably not small relatively and life on their planet found some way to cope with the size limitations, but it’s still weird to see. They're pretty social too. I think some of them have started recognizing different lab members. 

There’s this one that I think even likes me. It’s kind of a stabby little thing, hand-sized, fluffy. It trots right up to my hand when open the tank and climbs up to my crest to sleep while I sit down to prep instruments for later. It’s adorable. If the Sponsor does send a team back to that planet, I’ll probably buy one of my own once they’re available

Timestamped 683822:4011 [recovered file]

Something happened in the lab today. I don’t think anyone else saw. I was cycling some water for the twoleggers, one of them almost got out and—I don’t know. I don’t think basic animal intelligence would have thought to do that. But we don’t have any kind of ambassadors on board, never mind the specialists needed for first contact and translating and…oh.

I probably just misinterpreted what I saw. Maybe I just need to review my xenocognition theory. I’m wrong. I'm sure of it. I’m just an apprentice. I don't know things.

Timestamped 683822:4043 [recovered file]

I can’t remember if they monitor search queries. I bet they can do that. It’s their ship. Their tech. I tried to figure out what I'm supposed to do if I think we accidentally found alien life that's...Can they see these files? fuck.

Timestamped 683827:4121 [recovered file]

It knows. The little twolegger knows I know, it knows and I don’t know how to tell it that I can’t do anything for it without sentencing it to death. It's going to hurt itself. Or someone else is going to notice if it keeps trying to prove itself and then they'll sentence it to death.

I have to make it stop.

[fatehbaz]

British presence in the Straits Settlements […] (Penang, Singapore and Melaka) as a whole opened the way […]. Governor Andrew Clarke [...] clearly intended that economic botany should follow the quest for tin. Hardly three months after the [signing of the treaty legitimising British control in Malaya] [...] the Governor pressed Lord Carnarvon, Secretary of State for the Colonies, himself a keen botanist and collector, for the services of a ‘scientific botanist’. [...] Intimate plant knowledge among local [people] [...] assisted the discovery of many [plants valuable to European empire] [...] and the absorption of a number of vernacular names such as kempas (Koompassia), pandan (Pandanus) and nipah (Nypa) into scientific nomenclature. Equally, indigenous names for timbers, pre-eminently meranti and cengal, attained the status of trade names on the international market. Malay knowledge [...] proved also invaluable for commerce and [...] industries.

The Great Exhibition of 1851 at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, which displayed representative samples of colonial resources, was a microcosm of empire. Empire [...] co-sponsored the surveying, mapping and inventorying of people, lands and products for the ends of imperial power. Tropical nature, once a source [...] of wonderment, was brought to the domestic market place.

High on the imperial economic agenda were the Malayan territories, the source of gutta percha (from Palaquium gutta). Ingeniously adapted by the Malays [...], the plastic qualities of gutta percha were investigated for medical and industrial use by the [English East India] Company surgeons, T. Mongtomerie (1819-43) and T. Oxley (1846-57). [...] At the same time Oxley successfully pioneered the use of gutta percha for plastering fractures and preserving vaccine, the latter hitherto unable to be kept even for a few days. When a Prussian artillery Officer [...] then perfected its use for insulating telegraph cables, the product immediately gained strategic importance for the empire. Similar adaptations of other indigenous uses of plants paid dividends to industry and agriculture. [...]

---

The emergence of Hevea rubber in the Peninsula, superseding gutta percha as an industrial product was, again, the result of scientific exchange within the close-knit colonial botanical network [...] [following] [t]he illegal exportation by Kew [Royal Botanic Gardens in London] of the seedlings from South America to Ceylon and the Singapore Botanic Gardens [...]. Out of the seedlings sent in 1877 to Singapore, seven were planted by Hugh Low in the Perak Residency Garden. These and those raised in the Botanic Gardens furnished the seeds for the first plantations.

Though an introduced species, indigenous knowledge [...] of a wide variety of gums and exudates [...] benefited the plantation industry.

This [...] scored a major triumph for the colonial plantation industry. [...]

Large areas of Melaka had already been laid to waste by [...] a fast-growing variety of Brazilian cassava introduced in 1886 by Cantley.

The same cultivators soon turned the Imperata grasslands to rubber, but its rapid spread meant that a number of native plant species either became very rare or were entirely exterminated. The wild ancestor of the domestic mangosteen (Garcinia mangostana) is a likely example. [...] During his visit to Singapore in 1854 Wallace identified, within just a square mile, some 700 species of beetles [...].

---

All text above by: Jeyamalar Kathirithamby-Wells. "Peninsular Malaysia in the context of natural history and colonial science." New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies Volume 11 Number 1. 2009. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]