No, more fins! More. Flared. Fins.

Seven hundred dollars? Of money? Yes. That's how much the Playstation 5 Pro will cost when it comes out in November which, depending on how the election goes, will either be purchased by folks drunk on relief that we're temporarily safe from right-wing oligarchy for another four years, or as a balm for America's spiral into fascist dystopia. 

Sorry, until this guy is safely ensconced in either prison or
some kind of facility, everything is going to be about this.

Above: PS5 Pro Lead Architect and
Ken Burns cosplayer Mark Cerny. 

But enough doom and gloom, let's talk about video games. This last week, Sony announced the next uh...well, it's not the next Playstation. It's the next, slightly upgraded version of the PS5. I say slightly because in watching the video presentation hosted by Mark Cerny I was having a real hard time distinguishing the difference in visual fidelity between the two split screen images they showed us in the technical presentation, but then I'm an old who thinks gaming peaked with Super NES.

Intellectually I grasp that more frames per second and faster loading times are good. Or at least better on paper. Like, video game graphics now are the most impressive they've ever been. Which is something that's kind of always been the case, right?

"That's it, it's over. Video games will never look better than GTA III. Ever."
-everyone, circa 2001

Won despite famously having something
like a 50% failure/catch on fire rate.

But whatever, this is mid-generation refresh is--and I'm taking Mark Cerny on faith here--the most sophisticated video games have ever been so far. At least until the PS6. But seven hundred dollars? The Playstation 3 was six hundred when it came out in 2006 and that's like nine hundred in today's future money. At the time, Sony President Ken Kutaragi suggested that everyone simply get another job to be able to afford it, a suggestion that, as you can imagine, didn't go over well and most people agree that Xbox 360 won that console generation.

"Oh, you'd like to put a game in your $700
console? Well, that's going to cost you..."

-Sony, evidently

But I reiterate, whatever. Despite being a big huge nerd, I'm not planning to buy one. I'll have opinions about it, this is, after all, the internet, but I'll probably pay rent or eat or something, so price points and teraflops aren't really relevant to me. Still though, some of these decisions befuddle me. Like, the disc drive and the plastic stand that allows you to set it verticality aren't included so it costs extra to use physical media and to stand it upright. And that just feels kind of, you know, nickel and dimey? Or, more accurately, eighty-y and thirty-y dollery.

"What it instead of selling consumers our
product, they just paid us for it forever?"

-businesses

Pushing us towards digital games--which players don't really own, only license--has long been a dream of video game companies. After all, why sell someone a thing, when you can sell someone the temporary ability to download a thing which you control and can revoke at any time? It's sort of like how you could once buy software like say Microsoft office like on a disc, but it's subscription only. It works out great for Microsoft, but we, as the customers, are getting, uh what's the word? Screwed? Dang, did I just define late-stage capitalism? 

I'm going bleak again. Ok, well then can we just discuss how it's still kind of ugly? After the resoundingly negative reaction to the design of the original PS5--that is, it has an awkward flared shape and weird fins, weighs seven thousand pounds, and takes up your whole-ass living room--you'd think they'd have taken the opportunity to do a bit of a re-think. You would however be wrong. 

"What? It's totally different. It's got a stripe now. Oh, and did we mention you have
to buy the disc drive and stand separately? Because you do. That'll be $700 please."

-Sony, on why it's still kind of woof

On my continuing anhedonia:

I had rehearsal and couldn't really watch the debate last night, but I checked in now and then, and caught the split screen of the Vice President looking poised and confident on one side, and the scowling, tired, and hate-filled visage of the former technical winner of the 2016 electoral college on the other. Reading about how it went after the fact, I'm given to understand that Kamala Harris acquitted herself quite well indeed. 

Pictured: Kamala Harris acquitting herself quite well indeed.

Above: voters in Wyoming, seen here wielding
five times my voting power, presumably as
a consolation for living in Wyoming.

I'll never feel hope again, not since the aforementioned moment in 2016 when a centuries old system put in place to make rural states feel appreciated swept aside the will of the people and gave the former host of The Apprentice the nuclear codes, but at the very least we can say Harris won the debate by any reasonable standard. Still though, there are millions of people out there who, for reasons we will never understand, want to bring back the sexual assault enthusiast who tried to pull off a coup last time we all voted him out. 

Once, on television, Steve Urkel invented
a robot version of himself. But most of 
us understood that this wasn't real, right?

But still, I will try and enjoy these slight balms to the background anxiety that's been slowly building since Joe Biden's inauguration. These brief reprieves from the continuing menace of polls showing a neck and neck race between a qualified, experienced candidate and a man who claimed that immigrants want to eat your pets. A man who, when called out on this nonsense but the fact checkers, rebutted that he saw it on TV. A man who could very well be the president again if certain Republican controlled legislatures are feeling frisky this November.

So again, I'm not feeling hopeful. Yes, Kamala Harris is objectively a great choice for President. Yes, the other major candidate is fascist clown shoes. And yes, the election will be decided by like eight people in some random county in some state neither you nor I live in. But I am, let's say buoyed by last night's debate and yesterday's endorsements. I mean, who could have predicted a world where Dick Cheney and Taylor Swift came together on something on the same day?

I could honestly not name a single Taylor Swift song, but if
the Swiftie vote gets us there, I will follow her through fire.

Oh no NaNoWriMo...

Although at least finding infinite
monkeys who can type requires some effort.

Am I totally stepping in it by saying I'm kind of on the side that says that maybe generative AI shouldn't be used for writing? Although I suppose I'd have to have some kind of credibility for anyone to care what I think. Huh, it's actually quite freeing. Ok, I'll say it: using ChatGPT to write your novel for you is kind of like cheating. It's the algorithmic equivalent of infinite monkeys at infinite typewriters. But here, let me dither: maybe it's ok? In some, really specific circumstances? The reason I bring this up is NaNoWriMo, and the awkwardly contracted contest's recent decision to allow generative AI.

Why? Ethics. Oh, and I suppose the
environmental impact of all those servers.

So what's the haps? I'll tell you the haps. The haps is that the organization put out a statement saying that condemning generative AI in writing is ableist and privileged, a move that hit a nerve, leading four of their board members to quit in disgust. That nerve being that people who write for a living, and are feeling increasingly threatened by AI. A concern that feels pretty valid. Why hire someone to write copy when a robot can do it for you and for free? Same with visual artists, voice actors, regular actors, so in a lot of way, AI is coming for us. 

Except for people who already make money using computers for some reason, like, say, those who play the stock market. I personally think we should program an AI to run Wall Street and just give it the directive to do so in such a way that everybody makes exactly as much money as they need.

Seriously, enough with the gibberish poems and nightmare art where
everyone has extra fingers. Turn AI loose on these guys' jobs.

Why yes, I did beat Ninja Garden without
using a Game Genie, thanks for asking.

But is it ableist? To condemn generative AI in writing, that is. Maybe? I don't know. God, am I about to defend generative AI? NaNoWriMo's statement made the case that not everybody has the same cognitive abilities and this kind of AI assistance can help them reach their writing goals. And since the organization's goal is about encouraging people to write rather than to win a competition, there's not really a conflict here. An analogy might be if someone plays a video game on easy mode or cheats. If we're not talking about professional gaming, where's the harm? Does someone save scumming their way through Ninja Garden really affect your enjoyment of the game? 

Pictured: rich people seen here celebrating
their incredible literary success afforded
them by to their ability to pay editors.

Less persuasive to me is their argument that condemning AI is classist. They're saying that there are those who don't have the financial resources necessary to pay for feedback and editing, which isn't an angle I'd considered, nor is it one I'm sure I buy. I don't really know all the things AI is used for, but AI that gives feedback doesn't sound like the same thing as generative AI. And when it comes to editing, that seems like something you need if you're planning on publishing, and since editing is also a skill we're again talking about using AI to do the work for you.

Did you know that 30% of books published in
the U.S. are written by Brian Sanderson?

(source: nonsense)

Their third point is about access, and how underrepresented voices don't have the same opportunities when it comes to publishing contracts. I'm not in the publishing industry, nor am I underrepresented in it, but I mean that tracks. I work at a bookstore where we specifically feature underrepresented voices because of how the overwhelming majority of published writers are straight white men. So if AI can help, great. But how? They bring up access up as an issue, but are fuzzy on how AI will addresses inequities in publishing. 

One could type the word shuttlecock 50,000
times and technically complete the challenge.

The National Novel Writing Month challenge based on length, not quality. It's about getting people to write and that's super. And if folks need something like generative AI to get them there, who am I to judge. I think where the organization looses me however is the suggestion that someone who questions the use of AI in writing is guilting of ablism, and classism when really I think they're raising some really valid concerns about things like the ethics of writers passing AI off as one's own work, or straight up replacing writers with software. 

I mean, I can't play the piano, but if I booked a show where you all showed up to watch me sit in front of a baby grand while a classical Spotify playlist blares at you over the sound system, you'd think it was kind of a dick move on my part, right?

Incidentally, what are you doing tomorrow?

Today in ill-advised synergy:

Ok, I'm back now. Huh? From where? Burning Man. We talked about this and--huh? Where are you going? Wait, no, don't worry, I'm not going to talk about. I'm on something else entirely and it involves chain restaurants and--ugh--synergy.

Synergy: when you think of corpses, think Denny's.

Proverbs 24:16 And yea, this product contains
chemicals known to the State of California to cause
cancer, birth defects of other reproductive harm.

Anyway, so we were on our way back from Burning Ma--uh, I mean, somewhere that was far enough away that I was driving at one in the morning--the point is it was late and we were hungry so we went to a Denny's. To be clear, it's only in extraordinary circumstances that I will enter an establishment that serves branded food. Those circumstances are: it's late and I'm hungry and there's literally no other options but goddamn Denny's, or it's an In-n-Out. One is born of desperation and the other is because I live in California and we're legally required to like In-n-Out despite the weird evangelizing they try to do via the paper french fry baskets. 

I pity the 2034 Denny's marketing
exec who will have to find some way
to sell Crickets Over My Hammy.

Whilst perusing a laminated menu boasting, for better or worse, an absurd number of mediocre options with objectively silly names--I'll be cold in the ground before I, an adult, order Moons Over My Hammy--I came across an equally laminated insert. This appendix, this sub-menu, offered, for a limited time only, mind you, Beetlejuice-themed meals. As in, the sequel to the 1988 Micheal Keaton vehicle and not ground up insects. Climate change is likely to force us to move in that direction someday, but not today.

The deep fried mozzarella sticks are supposed
to remind us of a rib cage, I guess? Oh, and
consequently or our own mortality. Enjoy!

Instead, and perhaps even more soul-crushingly, we are confronted with "The Afterlife Menu" which, unimaginative name aside, does what it says on the tin. That is, it lists four regular old Denny's dishes with tortured puns for names and, in the case of two of them, green food coloring. Because ghosts? The offerings include and are entirely limited to: The Afterlife Melt (weak). The Cookies 'N' Scream Shake (k). The Say it Three Times Slam (I won't), and finally and most regretably, The Beetlejuicy Burger. 

The tastelessness (if not accuracy) of linking their food with death aside, I suppose I'm mostly bothered by the laziness of it. The gross capitalism, sure, but I'm becoming numb to advertisements. It's that they really need to up their "I can't believe how low marketing people will sink" game. We live in a world of popcorn buckets shaped like Ryan Reynolds offering sexual favors. Green sprinkles and lame word play (I mean, Tally Me Banana Split was right there) just don't cut it any more. 

Where's the That Scene Where Geena Davis Rips Her Face Off Slam?
Oh, and you're welcome Denny's marketing department.