One of the interesting things about the cut-up method is that when you do it enough, you start seeing it everywhere. (Burroughs: "All writing is in fact cut-ups.") I'm cutting up Joanna Newsom lyrics and realize that the phrase "all my bones" appears both in Only Skin and Emily. Paradigms start popping out at me: the partially-filled construction [Adj X-less-ness]NP shared between "hydrocephalitic listlessness" and "clay-colored motherlessness." I guess I'm doing what AI does. But AI still can't write a decent poem. I wonder what Burroughs would have thought of it. (My guess: he was paranoid in exactly the right kind of way to think LLMs are sentient and an existential threat, and he would have shot his computer while muttering something about soft typewriters and Mayan calendars and word viruses. "No good...no bueno...rub out the word...")
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Test is POSITIVE
Test is POSITIVE
Rapid precautions
Isolate yourself
Others, with contact
minimize. Avoid!
Please cover your mouth
Must go to ER
Severe confusion;
An emergency
Wear a facemask;
Seek immediate-
May be released, may
be released from, from,
from isolation.
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Yall know that Jason isn't 100 percent in the right and his methods aren't like, rational, right? Even if he was just murdering predators and people who deal drugs to children, he really didn't have any plans on what to do about the aftermath. The fall out of that. It's one of the most annoying things about Jason being written by a ton of middle-aged white men with shit politics, Jason is never really shown at that point to understand that his methods aren't really doing anything to help the people of Gotham.
That aggravates me because, as a child who grew up on the streets of Gotham you'd think he'd be more knowledgeable about the way crime happens, why it happens, and how to help the victims of said crimes best.
Yeah, he killed those child traffickers, but what about the kids? You can kill the drug dealers but that won't stop the flow of drugs into the community esp when cops are heavily involved in the selling of drugs within low-income communities. The issues with Jason's "war on crime" are as glaringly obvious as Bruce's in that they prioritize punishment and putting bandaids on bullet wounds for lack of a better word. The care they offer is temporary and comes with limitations, in Bruce's case it's charity instead of mutual aid. With Jason, it's him leaving the aftermath of his killing an abuser or a predator to other people.
In Red Hood the lost days, (fuck Judd Winick btw), Talia mentioned that Jason killed half his teachers because of the things they did (spoilers it's a lot of awful shit) and it seemed like he was covering his tracks, and I think that She was right. If Jason was really all that concerned about the things that these people were doing, he would have gone out of his way to ensure their victims' safety but he doesn't even think about it.
The victims and survivors aren't mentioned past what was done to them. They're presented as just the reason for Jason's methods and not people in their own right.
TLDR: Acting like either Jason or Bruce is 100 percent in the wrong or in the right is wrong because they're both being written by comic writers who have a pretty rudimentary understanding of poverty, drug use, and crime and everyone would benefit from sitting down and reading some theory I think.
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Altaïr: I got you one of those "plans" you're always on about
Malik: ...this is a map
Altaïr: Of guard patrols, yes. For the plan. Since you like plans.
Malik: Where did you get this map
Altaïr: ...
Malik: I know you didn't make this yourself, since it's
Malik: y'know
Malik: Actually Legible
Altaïr: Soooo, it's good? You like it?
Malik: That's not an answer
Malik: Altaïr
Malik: Altaïr
Malik: How many people died for this bizarre romantic gesture
Altaïr: ...Good talk
Malik: Goddamnit, novice
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okay so I’m thinking yknow like vampires. Vampires are undead so if they die then I don’t think they could leave a ghost. But werewolves? Werewolves are just people who got cursed furry style. They still have souls. If a werewolf died I think they could totally play by the usual ghost rules of violent deaths and unfinished business etc. so then I’m wondering, if a werewolf dies and leaves a ghost, is that ghost still a werewolf, or did dying break the curse? Cause like. Imagine. Youre a ghost but you still turn into a wolf every full moon. And your wolf sona is just out there acting an undead fool once a month. So anyway let me set the scene. Old house, next to some woods. The locals say some old loner died out there in mysterious circumstances. A couple moves in, they’re so optimistic. It’s so scenic. What a lovely private piece of land. Only… ah. It’s got a bit of a wolf problem. Oh well it’s the woods they expected some wildlife to come with that. But then,, hmm. The house might be haunted too? Yikes. Now this couple will soon discover that on the bright side, these two big issues are actually only one big issue. Unfortunately that one issue is a werewolf ghost.
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Can you tell what this is a cut-up of?
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leviathan!charlie also takes care of the weird plothole about her going from “hunting & hunters are scary and dangerous wtf get away from me” to “oh wow murdering people is soooo fun, guys!!! i just wish it was more magical!!!” because in this scenario it is not her going into hunting and somehow being in complete denial of the bloody reality of it, but her actually regressing to more violent tendencies in order to keep in contact with the Winchesters, who are basically the only friends she has.
leviathan!charlie who teamed up with them to take down dick specifically so that she would not have to act like she did in purgatory and could find a new life, but inevitably being drawn into the black hole of hunting/winchester-related violence. leviathan!charlie who sets out like vampires can to feed on animals…. and the occasional asshole, but that one shaky spot on her moral ground gives her room to backslide into seeing the monsters she hunts as just more assholes to eat (regardless of the fact that they are her!!! she’s a monster too! she just got lucky siding with sam and dean first!) leviathan!charlie who tries to hold onto the humanity she painstakingly taught herself, but the longer she’s around the winchesters, the harder it is to be anything but a monster.
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Delusions (Patreon)
"Could I have your hand, sir?" Max didn't move, which Dexter was, sadly, getting used to.
"Sir?" Max jerked, then turned and stared at him, lost and blank. "Your hand, please."
Max's hand lifted shakily, and he laid it gently in Dexter's upturned palm. Dexter gave a quick and quiet "thank you," then turned it over in his own hand, observing him closely.
Too closely - his knuckles were rough and his fingernails were dull and cracked in places. His once-soft, not-a-day-in-his-life-subjected-to-hard-labour hands were now, already, toughened and split and scarred in places, especially the heel of his palm. He turned it over again, this time to stop looking so intensely. He had only wanted to give it a cursory glance to begin with.
"Do you know what I see, sir?" he asked as conversationally as he could manage, running his fingers along Max's abused flesh. He seemed to be at least half paying attention, his eye gazing down between them, and he'd occasionally twitch, encouragingly Dexter thought. He seemed to want to curl around him, then stopped and shook, his hand squeezing into a fist. Dexter coaxed him back out, encouraged him to hold himself lightly.
"What do you see?" He was almost startled by Max actually continuing their conversation, that happened so rarely now, shaking and quiet as it was. He took a deep breath, was he really going to do this?
"I see a hand, with five fingers." Max remained quiet, though his brow curled, and a guarded look came into his eye, though he still wasn't looking at Dexter. He felt a pang of guilt, but he had to try. "What do you see?"
Max's eye unfocused and began to water. He looked up, but not enough to reach Dexter's gaze in return, instead staring through his chest, and he felt just as hollow and empty as he must look to him.
"Do you take me for a fool, DAX?" Quiet and as close to angry as he'd heard since they'd been here.
No, not angry.
Betrayed.
He swallowed down the stinging lump at the back of his throat. He had to put on a brave face, had to keep his composure if he wanted Max to get better. That was the only thing he wanted, more than anything.
"Of course not, sir. Genuinely, what do you see?"
Max pulled his hand away and turned his body, his bandaged side facing Dexter. Shutting him out, pointedly. Dexter's empty hand curled into a fist, he was no better.
"Please, don't..." Max took a shallow, shuddering breath, and several beats before he spoke again, even quieter. "Don't ridicule me." Dexter could hear his breath catch, and he wanted nothing more than for this all to just stop.
"Sir, I didn't-"
"I've had enough of that." He shook his head stiffly, the action strange and wrong, like he had forgotten how. He stilled, his head turned even further away. "More than enough."
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