The dingus who got ejected from dragoncon pulled the same shit

looks like we’ve got us our own superpredictor

How do you enshittify shit?

I often love your stuff, but this ain’t it.

I mean he doesn’t seem to taste food either, so it tracks

deleted by creator

Should’ve called it The Adversary

We should have an awful meet up next year to gloat over our victory

Maybe you could paint the wall greenscreen, and hide it behind a tapestry when not in use. Then you wouldn’t need a place to store or deploy the screen frame hardware.

edit: froztbyte has a good point! To clarify, I mean only an appropriate square of wall that is in view of the camera. Also, I’m a deranged person that consumes pivot via podcast, so I don’t know the layout of the room. A more clever person than I would have checked on that before offering a potentially impractical suggestion.

The lines weren’t nearly as gnarly this year, but the mild weather and extra positivity surely helped!

Common DragonCon W. The whole con was a lovely reprieve from the bullshit-industrial complex.

Unmonitored RSD is a real sonuvabitch

DragonCon drops the ban hammer on a slop slinger. There was much rejoicing.

https://old.reddit.com/r/dragoncon/comments/1n5r2eu/a_warm_heartfelt_goodbye_to_a10_the_ai_artist_who/

Btw, the vibes were absolutely marvelous this year.

Edit: a shrine was built to shame the perpetrator

https://old.reddit.com/r/dragoncon/comments/1n60s10/to_shame_that_ai_stand_in_artist_alley_people/

“Simulacrum” is the perfect word for it. None of these posers making a fuss about a corporate logo have simmered a pot of of soup beans in their life.

Hell yeah, thanks for doing this

promise a cubit, give five to ten qubits

tired: banking the unbanked

wired: unbanking the banked

There is a problem where well-endowed men will go to public places, drop trou, and do the helicopter dance.

This is called an indiscreet log-a-rhythm, and can be solved with quantum computers (or so I’m told).

From the people who brought you web3:

Furby3

In six months, they’ll be making a killing selling em to people who are still mourning their AI waifuls and husbandos.

The Atlantic puts the “shit” in “shitlib”