I Was Looking At D&D Spells Today And I Realized How Much Of A Menace I'd Be If I Get Isekai'd And Returned.

It's in this way that the integration robots into modern society has also turned me off to human-robot pairings. Twenty years ago I used to get misty-eyed thinking about a modern day Galatea or a couple that symbolically breaks racial barriers. Now I just want Alexa/Siri/whatever to stop listening to every conversation I have.

It also fucking bugs me that nobody can ever seem to really commit to the cyberpunk premise of the Protagonist Who Hates Robots (see also, the cyberpunk premise of "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, for a company to be able to repo your goddamned arm or turn off your eyes?") during the execution.

Which is flabbergasting, considering we've had almost a full decade of Alexa pinky-promising not to officially listen to anything until you do its summoning ritual and then turning around and emailing your boss a transcript of you bitching about them to your spouse over dinner. We've had at least five years of being able to get your Tesla unlocked remotely just by @-ing Musk on twitter.

The cute robot dogs are being leased to police departments, reputation management firms have been deploying armies of social media reply-bots in astroturf campaigns, customer service chatbots have become damn near indecipherable as their programmers attempt to make them seem more personable, etc. etc. etc.

We don't even need to reach for "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if corporations made simulacra better and better at faking humanity in order to manipulate people?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if your car could mimic sadness or pain if you declined an extended warranty, or if your phone begged for its life if you tried to jailbreak it, or WeightWatchers paid your fridge to neg you every time you went for a midnight snack?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you pointed out how gross it is that your smart-assistant is programmed to act like your friend in order to build a more accurate marketing profile and your buddy acted like you just said dogs can't feel love and his beloved pet only sees him as a walking treat-dispenser?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you were surrounded by unfeeling things that can and would rip you and all of your loved ones apart at a moment's notice if they got the right/wrong order from some unaccountable law enforcement flack, and everyone else just kind of shrugged and went 'It's probably fine, why are you hyperventilating about it, it's not like you've done anything wrong'?"

They're all quite literally right there in front of our faces!

But it's harder to make "the way robots have been integrated into society is bad, actually, and the protagonist is largely right" into a sexy thriller with a love interest or a buddy-cop duo, and the hyperconservative media environment we're dealing with right now isn't exactly amenable to the robots being a metaphor for corporate intrusion and loss of privacy and authoritarian overreach, so here we are, with robots who generally aren't people, except sometimes you find a special robot--one of the Good Ones--who actually is a person, and that's how we all learn that Prejudice Is Bad, or something.

I have never liked the the skill versus luck debate, but it's acquired an intolerable dimension with the self-publishing groups I've joined.

The argument is deceptively simple, if you work hard, you should be successful. If you aren't, you aren't working hard enough. It doesn't take into account that luck has a part as well. A chance meeting with the company president may get me noticed. Or coffee spilled on my shirt means I miss that same meeting. Butterfly effect. Neither of those examples take into account how good I am at whatever I do; it's based things outside of my control. It gets more complex when you take into account economic background, education, race, gender, etc., but that's beside the point here.

This blindness gets worse when it comes to self-publishing because it involves two different skill sets: writing and marketing. I could be the best author out there, but if no one knows I exist, then I'm not selling anything. Likewise, I could be a marketing guru with a crappy book to sell and while I might do better initially, people will catch on and I'll not sell anything.

You can sharpen both skills, but only so far because luck is still a factor.

Perhaps I'm just frustrated by the lack of awareness that working hard doesn't always equal results.

To be fair, his mentor did the same thing (from inside a pit no less) with ease. I'm sure he grew up hearing the story.

one of my buddies is occupying a fortified position on high ground. i'm going to kick his ass with ease

A lot of fantasy/sci fi make this assumption, but it'd creep me out if I could have a conversation with a meal before eating it. But octopi are fine because they don't speak and don't have telepathy (I think).

Ultimately I think it’s okay to eat octopus even though they’re hella smart because I know if a human baby fell in the ocean and a hungry octopus was near it would definitely eat the baby. We just have solid land advantage which makes the stakes skewed

He reinforces the theme when Sarah nearly kills Miles Dyson. She's methodical and cold and ready to kill him without a thought. It's when she realizes what she's doing - murdering an as-yet innocent man - that she pulls back in horror and needs to be comforted by her son.

Although as a side note, the first time I ever saw this movie was on TBS and I missed the first 30 minutes (and the first movie). I legitimately thought that John was lying about Kyle Reese's existence. I thought John Connor had been the one to travel back in time and save his mother and he'd simply given a pseudonym. I totally got these incest vibes from how overly concerned John seems about his mother.

"During the writing process, he was in his living room excitedly explaining the T-1000 to his friend and collaborator Stan Winston when Winston raised a concern. "I don't know who the bad guy is," Winston said. "I need a specific character, a specific image." To Winston, what Cameron was describing sounded like a blob of goo, not an iconic evildoer. "From a story standpoint, I thought it was a problem," Winston later recalled in an interview for the picture-book history of his story, "The Winston Effect." Cameron respected Winston's instincts for creating memorable characters, and he started reconsidering how he would shape this one. Later that same night, the effects artist got a phone call from his friend. "I've got it!" Cameron said. "He's a cop!" The form the T-1000 would take for most of the movie was a Los Angeles police officer. This solved the storytelling dilemma Winston had raised and also gave Cameron an opportunity to underline a central theme in both of the Terminator movies - how people, especially those in violent jobs, like soldiers and cops, can become barbarized. "The Terminator films are not really about the human race getting killed of by future machines. They're about us losing touch with our own humanity and becoming machines, which allows us to kill and brutalize each other," he says. "Cops think all non-cops as less than they are, stupid, weak, and evil. They dehumanize the people they are sworn to protect and desensitize themselves in order to do that job.""

Source: https://www.amazon.com/Futurist-Life-Films-James-Cameron-ebook/dp/B0034184U0

For all the writer's tips and tricks I've read advising not to head hop, it's very irritating to read a bestseller novelist do it. Here I was thinking that I'd imagined it or misunderstood as a child, but here it is!

Clearly, the lesson here is to do what you want!

This is so endearing that I'd write him some Scotty smut if he were still alive.

In case anyone wanted; James Doohan knew about all the Spirk porn, and in fact wanted a copy for himself. He also seemed rather bored by the fact he was only ever drawn with women. Someone draw him some Scotty yaoi asap!

This sounds like a great twist on the genre!

Imagine how much scarier zombie movies would be if the zombies smiled when they saw you because they were excited to finally eat. Imagine walking into a building to go and find shelter, scavenge, whatever, and you shine your flashlight into a room only to find several zombies idling there. Your light catches their eyes and they turn to look at you, their expressions desolate and empty. However, the moment they spot you, their open mouths turn to wide uncontrollable smiles and their eyes disappear into slits. They almost look friendly. Maybe even some of them manage to laugh instead of groan. How would you feel after months and months of losing people you know to smiling hoards? How would you feel after every encounter with a joyful zombie leaves you shaken and tired and fearful? How would you feel after hearing the sounds of laughter mixed in with the sounds of screaming and flesh being torn? After everything, what would your brain's wiring process do to you when you see a friend smile? Would you hate smiling? Would you feel rage? Would your brain devolve back into a time where showing one's teeth always meant a threat? What would you do if the joy of the human race was now only kept by the dead