I feel like the only person not tempted to use ChatGPT like it doesn't even occur to me as an option
Anyway shoutout to the person next to me who just got GPT to do their whole essay. I know you're in the trenches.
HELLO ??????
hi im complaining about tiktok again and i know this has been said a million times but i despise how the self-censorship that got really popular on there is quickly becoming the norm. why is my podcast that i listen to that is by and for adults and swears regularly censoring the word "sex" in its episode descriptions on spotify, a platform where they dont even censor officially uploaded song titles for songs like "fuck the pain away." why are there book blurbs using "unalive" completely in earnest. why are people on twitter writing s3x. youtubers can at least handwave having to bleep terms like "heroin" bc that's specifically a youtube problem but why in an era where everyone is handwringing about how everything is Literally 1984 do people not seem to care about grown adults gleefully regressing into homestuck typing quirks and ugly babytalk
Fucking Christ.
IF ONLY SOMEONE COULD HAVE FORESEEN THIS.
"Less than a week after it announced plans to replace its human helpline staff with an A.I. chatbot named Tessa, the National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA) has taken the technology offline. [...] The problems with Tessa were made public by an activist named Sharon Maxwell, who said: “Every single thing Tessa suggested were things that led to the development of my eating disorder.” NEDA officials initially called those claims a lie in a social media post, but deleted it after Maxwell sent screenshots of the interaction."
I’m also going to put this out there: even if the chatbot wasn’t spewing harmful things, people with mental illnesses often struggle with feelings of worthlessness, and that no-one cares about them.
Now, imagine reaching out for help whilst experiencing those kinds of feelings, and getting foisted off on a shitty customer service chatbot.
Savage farmer
Just to put this in perspective, the school was making high school students pay the equivalent of $40/month for parking.
rats can drive cars btw. if u even care
fun fact: the lab rats got into the cars and drove on their own free time, even without any treat or reward being offered
fun fact #2: the scientists actually found that the rats stress levels were lowered while driving, implying that rats find cars therapeutic
I love the whole branch of cognitive experimentation that just amounts to “we taught rats a fun new game and they really liked it”
I don't think I've seen an actor who is this passionate about their role ever
Humanity has finally reached the stars and found out why no one had contacted us. The universe is in a sad state. As such, Doctors without Borders, Red Cross, and many othe charities go intergalactic.
The thing the recruiters don’t tell you about space battles is that you die slowly.
Ships don’t blow up cleanly in flashes and sparks. Oh, if you’re in the engine room, you’ll probably die instantly, but away from that? In the computer core, or the communications hub? You just lose power. And have to sit, air going stale and room slowly cooling, while you wait to find out if the battle is won or lost.
If it’s lost, nobody comes for you.
It had been about half a day (that’s a Raithar day, probably a bit shorter than yours) and Kvala and I were pretty sure we had lost. Kvala was injured, Traav and I were dehydrated and exhausted, and Louv was dead, hit by shrapnel when the conduits blew.
Most fleets give you something, of course. For Raithari, it’s essence of windgrass. I looked at the vial.
“It’s too soon,” Traav said.
Kvala gestured negation, shakily. She had been burned when conduits blew, and her feathers were charred, and her leftmost eye was bubbly and blind now. Even if we were rescued, she probably wouldn’t survive. “You know we’re losing the war.”
They couldn’t deny that. “It doesn’t mean we lost the battle.”
“Doesn’t it? The Chreee have better technology. Better resources. And they have their warrior code. They don’t care if they die.”
“We can’t give up!” Traav protested. They were young, a young and reckless thar who had listened to a recruiting officer and still believed scraps of what they had been told. “Any heartbeat now—”
There was a clunk. Something had docked with our fragment of the ship.
“You see?!” Traav crowed triumphantly.
Kvala exchanged glances with me. The Chreee never bothered to hunt down survivors. What was the point, after all?
The Aushkune did.
There weren’t supposed to be Aushkune here. They were supposed to hide in nebulas.
But if there were—
If there were, we were too late. The windgrass couldn’t possibly destroy our nervous systems in time to stop the corpse-reviving implants, and once you were implanted, it was over—or it would never be over, depending on how you looked at it and whether Aushkune drones were aware of anything—
Footsteps.
Bipedal. The Aushkune were supposed to be bipedal.
And then the blast door opened, and a figure stood in it. My first thought was, robot? That’s almost worse than Aushkune . . . But no, it was a being in some sort of suit.
Who wore suits?
“Friendly contact,” the suit’s sound system blared, as the being moved over to Kvala. “Urgent treatment. Evacuation.”
“Who are you?” Kvala struggled upright.
Despite the primitive suit, the blocky being was using up-to-date medical scanners. “Low frequency right angle shape,” it explained—or maybe didn’t explain. Two more figures came into the room and put Kvala firmly onto a stretcher.
“You’re with the Chreee, aren’t you?” Kvala was not at all happy to be on a stretcher.
“Not Chreee,” the sound system said. “You Man. Soil Starship Nichols.” The being hesitated. “Rescue Chreee as well. On ship. Will separate.”
“You what?” I said faintly. Who would do that?
“Oath,” the being explained.
“What kind of oath? To what deity?”
The shoulders of the being moved up and down. “Several different. Also none. For me, none. Just—oath.”
I exchanged glances with Traav, who looked as unsettled as I was. I had never, ever heard of groups cooperating when they couldn’t even swear to or by the same power.
The being scanned me. “Have water,” it said. “Recommend.”
Raithari have fast metabolisms. I could—would—die of thirst quickly, and painfully.
“Where will you take us,” Traav asked, “after you give us water?”
“Raithari to Raithar. Chreee to Chreeeholm.”
“Chreeeholm would kill them for failing,” Traav remarked.
The being hesitated, and then said, “War news sometimes bad. Sometimes lie.”
We had learned long ago not to believe the recruiting officers, but what did that have to do with anything?
“And you—what?” I asked. “Just fly around looking for battles and rescuing victims?”
The being seemed to consider this. “Best invention of soil,” it said finally.
Most of what it was saying didn’t make any sense. Did it worship soil? But it had said that it had sworn to no deity . . .
Madness.
On the other hand—war was a deliberate, rational act by deliberate, rational people, and I wanted no more of it. So why not embrace madness and see what happened?
“Soil Starship—Rrikkol?” I asked, stumbling over the word.
“Yes. Soil Starship Nichols.”
I followed the being in the suit.
Took me well over a minute to realize "low frequency right angle shape" was Red Cross.
This whole thing is brilliant with translation stuff.
If you see me as a bloating corpse at the side of the road do NOT bury me! I know what I'm doing and I'm having an excellent time!
letter from a mother of a gay man. sent to ONE magazine, 1958.
--
This post was flagged as adult content and the original poster was deactivated so I'm bringing it back.
... how is this adult content?
It isn’t, but some people are assholes and the flag system is kinda automatic until you appeal so they abuse it.
This was a ride ⚰️⚰️
I love posts shared from AITA because the whatever impression I get reading the title alone is almost always the exact opposite of the impression I get after reading the story.
“AITA for throwing a child out a window” will always be someone rescuing a kid from a burning building or something and “AITA for cleaning my girlfriend’s apartment” will be about throwing out her grandma’s ashes because she spends too much time thinking about her grandma instead of the OP or some shit.
[excessive citations]
This worked for me, it can happen for you too. Never give up!
abandoned clay pit in the middle of the wilderness open 24 hours
If you like frogs. Or possums. Or cool builds. Or happiness. This is the video for you.
Tags via @brawltogethernow
Got tired of all the discussions of data quality and proper poll choices.
