Today in shameless self-promotion:

Hey, how's it going? Oh good. Sorry, it's been a minute. I've been very busy. We're putting on a show. Wait, where are you going? Come back! Don't you want to hear about my community theatre project? I mean, your eyes are kind of glazing over...Huh? What's that? You don't want to hear about it, but you're going to pretend to be interested while mentally planning what you're going to do for dinner tonight? 

Although, c'mon, I think we both know where this is going...

We're not just surfers and a soul-crushing
cost of living, we also have a vibrant arts scene!
But seriously, one-bedrooms are like $2,500/mo.

You know what? I'll take it! So if you live around here--Santa Cruz, California--and like community theatre and/or feigning interest in other people's extracurricular activities (and who doesn't?), you should come see our show. It's called Who Killed Simon Braggart? and it's running for four shows only: October 18th, 19th, 25th and 26th. It's a gritty, queer, comedy, noir murder mystery set during the golden age of Hollywood and get this, it's immersive. What even does that mean? Good question, I'm glad I pretended you asked.

Embarrassingly awesome...

So you know how when say, fans go to the opening night of a new Star Wars movie Jedi wearing robes and brandishing plastic lightsabers? It's like that, only slightly less embarrassing. Here, the premise is you're attending a 1940's film premier, so you'll want to dress appropriately. Fedoras and suits, evening wear with faux fur stoles, that kind of thing. When you enter the theatre you're going to find yourself in a reception party before the movie 

Oh, you looked suddenly interested when I said movie...well, let me walk that back a minute. This isn't a movie, but rather a play set at a movie premier. But that's even better, right? Whoa, whoa, come back, you've made it this far. 

Pictured: a typical play-goer.

In my defense, what's even going 
on in this scene? Like, for real?

Look, I love movies as much as the next person, but theatre is different. And no, not just because of the giddy possibility that someone might botch a line, but because you're engaging with something live and in person instead of passively taking in a written by committee, carefully calculated for maximum corporate synergy, CGI-stuffed, cacophonous, product of a commercial industry. Again, I'm not knocking movies but...well, ok, I am knocking movies, but I mean, I still go to those too.

Anyway, we have a fabulously talented cast, a rockstar crew, and I wrote it, so you'll probably hear me recycle some jokes I've made on this very blog. Only they'll be much funnier coming out of our actors' mouths. It's l'art pour l'art as the French would say. Ok, they probably wouldn't and that is super-pretentious, but why not come get super-pretentious with us?

Again, so sorry. This has been a shameless plug, but if you've been
taken in by my sweaty, self-conscious pitch here's where you can get tickets.

It's a veritable burrito of compromised journalistic integrity!

Hey, did you see that the Penguin was on the loose again? Well look out, because he is, at least that's according to the Gotham Gazette. Never heard of it? A respected but, you know, fictional newspaper. And ad. It's an ad. An ad that was completely wrapped around every copy of the New York Times on Thursday.

The Penguin's in town? And just in time for the Gotham Museum
to be hosting an exhibition of diamond-encrusted penguin statues! 

They're not just a way to keep up on current
events, they're also a valuable resource for
time travelers unclear as to where they landed.

For those born in the twenty-first century, I should explain. The New York Times is a newspaper. Think of it as a website...sorry, an Instant Gram? Or a TikTok feed? Are the kids still into that? Doesn't matter, the point is that in the days of yore, knowing what was going on in the world required going down to the Newsstand or grocery store or whatever and handing over paper money for a printed record of the news. Well, yesterday's news really, because it takes an amount of time to print and ship out to stores. 

Pictured: a decent segment of the population.

But there is still a decent segment of the population who come down to the bookstore I work in and buy newspapers. Who? I would never generalize, it' doesn't matter. What does matter is that last week, whilst retrieving that day's papers from the lockbox to which they are delivered, I noticed that in lieu of the New York Times, we had the Gotham Gazette. This new addition to our usual line up was full of stories about The Riddler, District Attorney Harry Dent, and the cover story was about the Penguin. Ok, it's an ad for some new TV show starring Collin Farrel reprising his Penguin from 2022 film "The Batman."

Pictured: not Batman.

Which, ok, fine. Why the world needs another TV show about people who know Batman but are not themselves Batman is beyond me, but that's not why I'm talking about this. I'm talking about this because the NYT is just stilling the entire cover as ad space. I mean, I know that their reputation has taken a dive in the past few years, but it seemed a little, you know, icky? It's not just the idea that journalism has been replaced by an ad delivery system, but it's alot that.

I'm sure HBO bought the ad long before the Israeli government used exploding pagers to murder a bunch of people, but were they anticipating a slow news day? Will there be a window between horrors in which doing something like this would be less insensitive? Because as it stands, this silly in-universe paper about pretend crimes in Gotham City concealed an actual New York Times with a cover story about war crimes in the real world.

"Enjoy late-stage capitalism! Quack quack quack!"

-The Penguin

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.

Did I mention the orgies and drugs?

Sorry to be talking about this again, but I just want to assure you that I'm not panicking. I know you definitely read The Daily Mail article entitled "Panic grows that iconic Burning man festival famed for drugs and orgies is on verge of COLLAPSE [sic] after washout 2023 event," and I just thought that you should know that nobody is panicking. 

Pictured: the sensationalized, passive voice headline can be found in the 
lower quarter of the screen above that's not filled with ads for container homes
 and scrap metal recylcling companies. The algorithm's outdone itself this time!

Huh, the folks at Orgy Dome don't look
all that panicked. I wonder why the article
even mention--wait, do you suppose...

Well, not about this. There's plenty else to panic about. The climate, humanitarian crises across the globe, MAGA goons, the fact that there's a sequel to Beetlejuice coming out despite the track record of sequels that happen decades later. Lots. But whatever the hell this is? Not panicking. Obviously, nobody takes The Daily Mail seriously, but even for nonsense news sites, that headline is a masterpiece of click bate. Are there orgies and drug use at Burning Man? Yes. Does that have anything to do with the story? Not even a little.

The caption could also read: "Festival-
goers wait patiently in line to exit
Burning Man. But it doesn't say that.

There's also a shot (left) which is captioned: "A mass exodus consumed the festival as fed-up revelers fled Nevada's Black Rock Desert last year after torrential downpours turned the drug and orgy filled experience into a muddy mess. (Pictured: A massive traffic Jam as people tried to leave the festival)." Sigh. Couple of things. For one, the mass exodus didn't consume anything, the line to get out always looks like that. And it looks like that because the organizers pulse the traffic out so as not to overwhelm the highway and the small towns it passes through. 

To most people stuck with tickets I say,
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." To ticket
re-sellers I say: "whomp-whomp."

They also didn't miss another opportunity to mention drugs and orgies, did they? Anyway, The story itself is about how demand for tickets was probably affected by last year's weather, which is true. Like I said, we talked about this already, but the idea is that the demand is low and supply is high. There are almost certainly a lot of folks, some of them friends, who are going to be hurt by the financial impact of unused tickets. That's terrible, and I definitely feel for them. There're also going to be speculators who thought they'd turn tickets around for a profit. That's schadenfreude and I don't so much feel for them.

Pity them not is what I'm saying.

But growing panic that Burning Man is on the verge of collapse? Eh...Would it be the worst thing in the world if this was the last Burning Man? The glamper festival kids who lost their minds when it rained last year would just take their culturally appropriative headdresses and RV's to Coachella or whatever. As for more dedicated Burners, they're adaptable, and would probably just go to regional events (mini-Burning Man things that happen, all over the world). 

Apart from the folks who work for the organization, the actual victims here would be people who live in the nearby communities who've build small industries around the event. And that doesn't even get a mention in the article. 

But curiously enough, they did mention the orgies. Like, more than once.