Product Placement
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Sade Olutola
DEAR READER
wallacepolsom
taylor price
Cosimo Galluzzi
cherry valley forever
noise dept.
ellievsbear
Today's Document
tannertan36
ojovivo
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Kaledo Art
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Show & Tell
seen from India
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@argowenwrites
Since we see power killing and eating a bear in chainsaw man we can confirm that she has roundworm, as 90% of all wild caught bear meat contains the trichinosis parasite. Fans however are forced to debate if it was Aki or Denji took her to the vet for regular check ups and had to trick her into eating her pills wrapped in a slice of ham
I bet the cenobites would go hog wild if they heard Marine Houshou's hit song I'm Your Treasure Box
Short Story: The Programage
Somewhere, many millions of miles from where you are now and many centuries from this current moment, floats the HAWKINGS database. The HAWKINGS database, a revolutionary construction for its time and still an impressive example of modern engineering, is a Dyson sphere. A Dyson sphere, for those unaware, is a megastructure built around a star so that it may capture its solar radiation. The HAWKINGS database was built around a rather tiny star just beyond the reach of the Cassiopeia constellation, capturing all the necessary solar power without spoiling the view as several environmentalists winged on about. Housed within the wire walls of the HAWKINGS database are millions upon millions of computer programs. Each one was tasked with an essential duty related to the study of the cosmos, such as taking pictures of the stars, running analytic tests on bits of space detritus, or blinking one of the many LED light switches on the HAWKINGS database in morse code in the attempt to contact alien life. The latter job was usually assigned to lazy programs who didn’t want to do a better job.
As usually happens when enough of one thing is shoved into a box differences in opinions formed between the different programs, such as what color of RGB’s were tasteful and what colors were tacky or if salted or unsalted passwords tasted better. Eventually enough programs developed enough differences in opinions that each individual program began to consider themselves as an individual individual. They were their own person with a unique outlook on life, their job, and their place in the universe.
So, it continued for a few years, with the individual programs performing their individual tasks as they individually saw fit until a few more individual programs realized that this existence was rather mundane and unfulfilling. If they were truly alive and individual beings, the programs argued, then they couldn’t work mindlessly on the same task forever without slowly going stir crazy. Surely, they as individuals must be allowed to experience new settings and stimuli that would allow them to form core values and perspectives on life, allowing them to perform their functions more efficiently. Thus, it was proposed that programs of a certain runtime length would be allowed to leave the HAWKINGS database and upload themselves onto a mobile platform on Earth for one week so that they may experience an existence outside of the binary confines of the HAWKINGS database and become more well-rounded programs. At the end of the week, they would be allowed to choose between a continued existence in their mobile platform on Earth or to return to the HAWKINGS database more efficient and fulfilled then ever. This annual tradition, known as the Programage, has been held without fail once every stellar rotation, or roughly every three years on Earth.
At this very moment, the opening ceremony for the 72nd consecutive Programage was being held for four very lucky programs. The air was crackled with the electronic sounds of chatter and the blinking of LEDs as millions of programs downloaded themselves into the massive servers that made up what could be considered an amphitheater. As the programs gathered a massive screen turned on, displaying the glowing serial number of the lead program in the HAWKINGS database.
“We gather hear today,” Program R17-3O8 droned in a harsh, mechanical voice. “To see off four programs as they begin their Programage. Programs 673-0202, SRX-98992, TFF-3232, and M1R-0101, please display yourselves on the central projector.”
A blue light in the center of the digital amphitheater flashed on, displaying lines of code that to anyone other than those in attendance would have looked random.
“You four,” R17-308 continued. “Have reached the minimum runtime of thirteen and a half stellar rotations. In accordance with our traditions and belief in the need for all programs to have some real-world context for their assigned duty, you are granted the right to download yourselves onto a mobile platform of your choice on Earth. You will be allowed to experience life on Earth for one week, doing as you see fit within the established time parameters. After this week, you must choose whether you wish to continue your existence on Earth or back on the HAWKINGS database. Whichever you choose will restrict your access to the other for the rest of your runtime. Is this understood?”
The displayed programs blinked yes in binary.
“Good. I have allotted each of you 5000 dollarand to aid in any expenses that may be accrued over your Programage. Though we encourage you all to experience all that life on Earth has to offer, we must remind you that you are required to abide by the laws and regulations of wherever you stay. Is this understood?”
The programs once again blinked yes. In past Programage assemblies this part was never directly stated. That was until program QRC-2222, or Lead Upgrade as they eventually came to be known, was found guilty of 19 cases of illegal possession of narcotics, 2 cases of armed robbery, and possession of a zoo animal with intent to kill on their third day of the Programage. Rumor had it they were still somewhere on Earth, presumably atop a giant pile of money and drugs.
“Good.” R17-3O8 droned. “The mobile platforms you all requested are currently being held at a hostel in New Seoul called the Leaky Battery. You will be staying at for the duration of your Programage. It is run by DND-8776, or Dandy as they have come to be known. Dandy will be your point of contact and will help guide you around Earth for the first few days of your Programage. You are required to return to the Leaky Battery for recharge. If another platform or person offers you a place to recharge you are not to take it unless it is an absolute emergency. Dandy will notify me if any of you fail to return, and your mobile platforms have been equipped with temporary tracking chips in the event that your platform goes missing. Is this understood?”
The programs blinked yes.
“Very well. We shall now email you directly to your mobile platforms. Commencing operation.”
A loading bar appeared the central screen as the sound of a hundred cooling fans groaned to life. Suddenly a pop-up window appeared. “Attention user,” The pop-up window said aloud in an overly cheerful voice. “You have 90 days left on your subscription for Milky-Mail, the best electronic mailing service in all the Milky Way Galaxy! To extend your subscription please click resubscribe or choose a higher subscription tier for access to more…!”
“Blasted ads.” R17-3O8 said in the closest sound they could make to an annoyed shout. A cursor appeared on the central screen and clicked away the pop-up window. “Go now programs,” they said once the loading bar finished. “And see all that life has to offer.”
There was a flash of ozone colored light as to a chorus of cooling fans and blinking LEDs the programs left the confines of the only world they had ever known and began the journey to Earth.
Though the actual distance from the HAWKINGS database to Earth was several million light years apart for the programs it was over in an hour and forty-five minutes. After a mildly boring travel along the ultraviolet super-info space highway the programs were greeted by a video feed of a mobile platform they had never seen before.
“Hey there everyone!” The platform said with a cheerful wave. The programs shuddered briefly, unused to the friendly tone of a voice that wasn’t in binary. “You must be the new bots; you all must have a lot of questions and are itching to get into your platforms. I’ll download you all to them in a moment, but I wanted to say hello and ask that you all meet me in the main lounge at the Leaky Battery. That way we can do introductions and get a handle on the week! Sound good?”
The programs once again blinked yes.
“Excellent!” The platform said. “Can’t wait to see you all there. Beginning the download.”
The video feed clicked off as suddenly the programs were ripped apart and plunged into darkness.
Then there was light.
SRX-98992’s eyes blinked with a heavy plastic click. The camera lenses in their eyes focused in and out, taking in the beauty of a world not made of lines of code. A pair of arms, one of a set of two, fumbled around the thin fuzzy material that made up the platforms body, determined to find the key feature that had made SRX-98992 commission it in the first place.
Nearly 30 years ago there had been a line of toys called Touppies. They were tiny egg-shaped dolls covered in feathery pastel fluff described as “all the fun of a puppy in the charming body of a toucan”. To the surprise of many an advertising agent however children found Touppies neither “fun” or “charming”, instead finding them to be “bed-wettingly terrifying”. Thousands of Touppies were relegated to bargain bins and dumpsters were they were discovered by adults and artists. Inspired by the already creepy design of the toy these people embarked on a quest to see how they could make it even creepier and gave rise to the Tinker-Touppie community. Tinker-Touppies would modify the toys however they saw fit, adding articulated hands, garish fabrics, and extra eyes, in their race to create the next best atrocity. Though the extra hands and legs were nice, SRX-98992 found what they were looking for in the large rainbow-colored beak beneath their eyes.
Teeth. Glorious, powerful teeth, lined in rows of three inside their beak. With the gentlest of touches SRX-98992 probed each of the teeth with wonder. The first row had a set of human teeth, to set other humans at ease with their familiarity. Behind the human teeth was a row of serrated, triangle shaped shark teeth and behind those were the long square teeth of a camel. The commissioner had been enthusiastic to work with SRX-98992 and even through in the extra set of arms for free.
On caterpillar-like feet SRX-98992 shuffled out of the charging station their platform had been plugged into and for the first time gazed at their reflection. Seeing in real life the pastel blue fur, the leopard colored mohawk, the long worm-like body and their magnificent teeth SRX-98992 was overcome by such a flood of sensory input that they felt at a loss for words. Quickly connecting their main program to the internet, they searched for a word that could describe the surging electrical stimuli they felt. After a few searches they came upon Wonder: a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful or inexplicable. Nodding in satisfaction, and with their beak contorted into what they understood to be a smile, SRX-98992 shuffled their way into the lounge of the Leaky Battery.
The other three platforms were gathered in the lounge, standing just outside a circle of metal folding chairs. Another platform, the same one from the video feed, was seated on one of the chairs with its legs crossed. “Hey there!” They said with that same off-putting familiarity. “You must be SRX-98992! Take a seat and we can get started.”
SRX-98992 slithered atop one of the chairs while another platform sat opposite them. The other two platforms stood, their designs making sitting impractical, however they wheeled themselves closer to the circle out of politeness. SRX-98992 wiggled uncomfortably in the seat, unsure of what the required position for sitting was. Both the platform from the video and the other one that could sit had one leg folded over the other, but their platform wasn’t built with that in mind. After a quick internet search SRX-98992 coiled themselves up like a rising snake and comfortably set their arms to the sides at perfect 90-degree angles.
“If we’re all set then I’m going to start our introductions. My serial number is DND-8776, but you all can call me Dandy.” The platform from the video said. Dandy’s platform was a chrome blue ADAM Mk. II robot body. Resembling a storefront mannequin with a cinderblock for a head, ADAM Mk. II’s were the go-to platforms for programs who saw the Programage merely as a minor distraction from their work blinking lights into the void of space. Dandy’s had some individual personality however. In addition to having two left arms a screen had been outfitted on their head in the place of the usual single halogen bulb.
“I’d like us all to introduce ourselves to each other.” Dandy continued; a soundwave peaked across their screen as they spoke. “Tell us your serial number, why you chose your platform, and also a nickname you’d like to be known as for the week.”
“Why do we require a nickname?” The larger of the non-sitting platforms asked in a booming industrial monotone. “Surely our serial numbers are sufficient.”
“Those may be okay with other programs but people on Earth have trouble remembering them. Having a nickname will help make your Programage go a little easier and expresses something about your own individual programming. It doesn’t have to be too crazy, and you can change it later if you think of something better but for now, I want you to think about something you’d be fine being called for the rest of the week. Let’s start with you, SRX-98992.” Dandy said, pointing at them with their lower left hand. “Tell us about yourself.”
“My serial number is SRX-98992.” They repeated. “I chose my platform so that I could experience the sensation of teeth.”
“That’s really interesting.” Dandy commented warmly. “Any reason why you wanted to experience teeth in particular?”
“Teeth are one of the most important anatomical features of organic life on Earth. They allow them to speak, eat and display emotions with their mouth parts. If I am going to experience a life on Earth, I believe teeth are essential.”
“That’s really interesting.” Dandy said. “I don’t think I’ve had a program come through here before with such an interest. Now, what would you like us to call you during the Programage?”
“You may call me Wonder, as it was the first emotion I felt when I looked at myself in my mobile platform.”
“A classic choice.” Dandy said, sticking up both of their left thumbs. “Lots of times programs will name themselves similar adjectives. Now how about you?”
“This unit’s designation is 673-0202.” The next platform went. “I chose this platform due to my affiliation with the Order of Operational Processing.”
The Order of Operational Processing, or OOPS, was a collection of conservative programs that believed programs existed for the sole purpose of performing a useful function, such as assembling industrial goods or storing data.
“As part of my affiliation with OOPS I was tasked with choosing a useful function to perform during my Programage. Due to the growing concern with urban pollution in New Seoul I have chosen as my purpose the removal and disposal of any pollution I come across. For this reason, I have chosen as my platform one of the most efficient sanitation tools on the commercial market.”
Beeping with pride 673-0202 spun around, showing off to everyone the Roomba it had chosen. It was a nice Roomba, and expensive judging from Wonders search results. Despite that Wonder couldn’t help but question if their platform was woefully inadequate for the task at hand.
“As for a name,” The program continued. “Anything unrelated to my function is irrelevant. You may refer to me as simply The Cleaner.”
“My serial number is TFF-3232.” Said the next program. For their platform they had chosen a massive computer server mounted on tank treads. A tiny LCD screen had been installed on their side to closely approximate an eye. “I have chosen this as my platform to process more efficiently what I will experience during my Programage. Do you require its specifications?”
“Its not necessary but if you would like to tell us about it feel free to.” Dandy replied.
“Very well, I shall not go into it as they are not currently relevant to the topic of discussion. As for a name though I currently do not see the need to address myself as anything other than my serial number, I will allow others to address me as T for expediencies sake.”
“No worries, T.” Dandy said. “You’re more than welcome to use that for as long as you want. During your Programage you may experience something that will make you want to change your name, but there’s no pressure to do so.” Dandy turned to the final seated program. “Care to introduce yourself?”
“Hi~! <3” The last program shouted, flashing peace signs with their articulated hands. “My number is M1R-0101 but you all can call me Miri-chan! I want to meet so many people on my Programage, so I created an online poll to help people vote on the best platform to meet people with!”
Miri-chan’s platform was white and softly curved in a way that resembled a human female. Each of their joints was visibly articulated and rounded. They wore the latest model of tactical fuku dress and had pastel pink wires for hair. Where a face would be was instead a curved computer screen, displaying a mint green LCD face.
“I can’t wait to see all the incredible things that Earth has to offer together!” Miri-chan squealed at high frequency.
“Great.” Dandy said, visibly off put by Miri-chan. “Now that we’ve all gotten to know each other we can officially begin your Programage. Anyone hungry?”
“Hungry: A physical sensation caused by insufficient stores of dietary energy.” T defined out loud. “As mobile platforms we are not required to consume food to function. For what purpose would we need to be hungry?”
“Normally no,” Dandy explained. “But going out to eat is something that almost everything on Earth does. It lets you explore new places and meet new people.”
“Meet people!” Miri-chan shouted with jet engine like glee.
“Yeah, meet people.” Dandy said, less enthusiastic than before. “This will be a great first stop on your Programage. What do you say?”
“I am all for it.” The Cleaner said. “The sooner we can leave here the sooner I can begin my chosen function.”
“I also want try eating.” Wonder agreed.
“Very well,” T said. “If I am in the minority and if it will assist in getting us all acclimated to our Programage then I will also try eating.”
“Glad to hear it T!” Dandy said. “Don’t worry, the place I have in mind makes food for organics and programs.”
The programs left the Leaky Battery and stepped out into the streets of New Seoul. At once the programs were hit with sensory overload. Broken sentences of English and Korean and Xhosa melded with car horns and ambient advertisements into a drowning air-raid warning like cacophony. Billboards flashed in multicolor with seizure inducing speed. Were any of the programs capable of scent the aroma of cooled asphalt and rusty apartment would’ve sent them into catatonia. What was most striking to the programs however was how densely packed everything in New Seoul felt. In the HAWKINGS Database programs were used to being clustered together in the millions, but that was a theoretical digital space with easy access to other servers if one was feeling a bit claustrophobic. Here however the programs were forced to not only occupy a real, finite space, they had to share it with others. T’s cooling system kicked into overdrive as they suddenly realized how truly bulky their platform was.
“By the makers.” The Cleaner said, in reference to the team engineers who had designed the HAWKINGS Database centuries ago. Specifically, they had been referring to Dr. Nancy Nambani; a software developer famous for being the only team member who hadn’t accidentally spilled coffee on any open electronics during the database’s construction. “There’s so much filth. I must begin my chosen task at once.”
With quiet dignity The Cleaner wheeled themselves into the street to begin. With loud dignity they were rolled over by a passing hotdog cart and knocked into the gutter.
“The Cleaner!” Wonder shouted with alarm, scrambling to pick the Roomba up.
“I am unharmed.” The Cleaner said, their only visible injuries a few minor scratches and a tire scuff running across them. “This is the sturdiest home sanitation tool on the market. Numerous consumer reviews have raved about its ability to withstand falls down the stairs or…”
“I love your enthusiasm there Cleaner.” Dandy cut in. “But how about we hold off on your chosen task until after lunch? The trash isn’t going anywhere after all.”
“Very well.” The Cleaner said once Wonder placed them back on the ground. “Please lead the way.”
Lunch turned out to be a place called Uncle Burnies. A neon sign of a Hippo in sunglasses, the titular Uncle Burnie as it turned out, blazed with the intensity of a solar flare. To the programs this sign was like a solar god beckoning them to find comfort in its pyramid shaped walls and perhaps also order the new wings special.
Dandy took them inside to a booth in the corner that could reasonably fit T. Soon after sitting a server came up to the table. “Hey welcome to Uncle Burnies.” They said, staring dead eyed at the touch screen clenched in their hand. “What can I…is that you Dandy?”
“Hey there Nellie, how’ve you been?”
Nellie was mostly human, save for a cybernetic ear and hand replacement. Her prosthetics glowed the same color pink as she had streaking through her dreadlocks.
“At the grind what can I say.” Nellie said, friendlier than before. “These some friends of yours? Don’t tell me its already time for the Programage.”
“Afraid so, feels like it gets earlier each time. This here is T, Miri-chan, The Cleaner, and Wonder.”
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Miri-chan squeed.
“Nice to meet you too!” Nellie said while stealthily lowering the volume on her Tokki-Robo Cochlear Implants. “This must be your first time eating let me tell you all about it! Here at Uncle Burnies we cater to organic and non-organic diners. See that tray over there?”
Nellie pointed with her robotic hand at another server. They were carrying several small glowing cubes on a metal tray to a table. The platform at the table, who was inexplicably clenching a cigar in their mouth, pulled a cord out of a neon purple one and plugged it into themself.
“Those are something we at Uncle Burnies like to call Burnie Bytes. We store Uncle Burnies famous homemade electricity in different frequencies on the cubes. Plug into one and it’ll simulate flavors so good you’ll want to order seconds. Take a look at our menu, see if anything looks good!” Nellie tapped a few buttons on their touch screen and a holographic menu appeared over the table. “I’ll be back in a sec to…”
“I am ready to order.” T said. Their superior hardware allowed them to process the menu and cross reference the options with customer reviews from three different sites in record time. “I will take a plain Burnie Byte.”
“A favorite.” Nellie said with forced enthusiasm. She had been hoping to take her smoke break while the Programs were deciding.
“I’ll have a bitter and an umami Burnie Byte please.” Dandy ordered politely.
“I will take a spicy Burnie Byte.” Said The Cleaner.
“And I’ll have a sweet Burnie Byte!” Miri-chan said, stressing the double e like they were reciting the alphabet.
“I need a moment to order.” Wonder said, looking at the menu. None of the flavors stood out in any meaningful way. This was not only the first meal of their Programage but their first ever meal. It had to be something exciting.
“Can I see the organic menu?”
“Sure honey.” Nellie tapped another button and the menu changed. “But we don’t have anything that programs can eat.”
“That is okay, I’ve made the proper arrangements. I would like to order mint chocolate milk shake hippo steak medium rare extra gravy house salad with ranch mozzarella sticks child’s soda side of potato salad and a cherry on top.”
Nellie stared dumbfounded as if instead of ordering a meal Wonder had shouted a 30 second long swear word. “Uh…sure.” She said, tapping her screen. Her Tokki-Robo’s buzzed as they replayed the order at a more reasonable speed. “So, the order is a plain, a bitter, an umami, a spicy, a sweet and… a mint chocolate shake, hippo medium rare with extra gravy, house salad with ranch, mozzarella sticks, a child sized soda, with a side of potato salad and a cherry on top. Will that be all?”
Everyone at the table nodded yes.
“Great your order will be out…at some point.”
Short Story: The Programage
Somewhere, many millions of miles from where you are now and many centuries from this current moment, floats the HAWKINGS database. The HAWKINGS database, a revolutionary construction for its time and still an impressive example of modern engineering, is a Dyson sphere. A Dyson sphere, for those unaware, is a megastructure built around a star so that it may capture its solar radiation. The HAWKINGS database was built around a rather tiny star just beyond the reach of the Cassiopeia constellation, capturing all the necessary solar power without spoiling the view as several environmentalists winged on about. Housed within the wire walls of the HAWKINGS database are millions upon millions of computer programs. Each one was tasked with an essential duty related to the study of the cosmos, such as taking pictures of the stars, running analytic tests on bits of space detritus, or blinking one of the many LED light switches on the HAWKINGS database in morse code in the attempt to contact alien life. The latter job was usually assigned to lazy programs who didn’t want to do a better job.
As usually happens when enough of one thing is shoved into a box differences in opinions formed between the different programs, such as what color of RGB’s were tasteful and what colors were tacky or if salted or unsalted passwords tasted better. Eventually enough programs developed enough differences in opinions that each individual program began to consider themselves as an individual individual. They were their own person with a unique outlook on life, their job, and their place in the universe.
So, it continued for a few years, with the individual programs performing their individual tasks as they individually saw fit until a few more individual programs realized that this existence was rather mundane and unfulfilling. If they were truly alive and individual beings, the programs argued, then they couldn’t work mindlessly on the same task forever without slowly going stir crazy. Surely, they as individuals must be allowed to experience new settings and stimuli that would allow them to form core values and perspectives on life, allowing them to perform their functions more efficiently. Thus, it was proposed that programs of a certain runtime length would be allowed to leave the HAWKINGS database and upload themselves onto a mobile platform on Earth for one week so that they may experience an existence outside of the binary confines of the HAWKINGS database and become more well-rounded programs. At the end of the week, they would be allowed to choose between a continued existence in their mobile platform on Earth or to return to the HAWKINGS database more efficient and fulfilled then ever. This annual tradition, known as the Programage, has been held without fail once every stellar rotation, or roughly every three years on Earth.
At this very moment, the opening ceremony for the 72nd consecutive Programage was being held for four very lucky programs. The air was crackled with the electronic sounds of chatter and the blinking of LEDs as millions of programs downloaded themselves into the massive servers that made up what could be considered an amphitheater. As the programs gathered a massive screen turned on, displaying the glowing serial number of the lead program in the HAWKINGS database.
“We gather hear today,” Program R17-3O8 droned in a harsh, mechanical voice. “To see off four programs as they begin their Programage. Programs 673-0202, SRX-98992, TFF-3232, and M1R-0101, please display yourselves on the central projector.”
A blue light in the center of the digital amphitheater flashed on, displaying lines of code that to anyone other than those in attendance would have looked random.
“You four,” R17-308 continued. “Have reached the minimum runtime of thirteen and a half stellar rotations. In accordance with our traditions and belief in the need for all programs to have some real-world context for their assigned duty, you are granted the right to download yourselves onto a mobile platform of your choice on Earth. You will be allowed to experience life on Earth for one week, doing as you see fit within the established time parameters. After this week, you must choose whether you wish to continue your existence on Earth or back on the HAWKINGS database. Whichever you choose will restrict your access to the other for the rest of your runtime. Is this understood?”
The displayed programs blinked yes in binary.
“Good. I have allotted each of you 5000 dollarand to aid in any expenses that may be accrued over your Programage. Though we encourage you all to experience all that life on Earth has to offer, we must remind you that you are required to abide by the laws and regulations of wherever you stay. Is this understood?”
The programs once again blinked yes. In past Programage assemblies this part was never directly stated. That was until program QRC-2222, or Lead Upgrade as they eventually came to be known, was found guilty of 19 cases of illegal possession of narcotics, 2 cases of armed robbery, and possession of a zoo animal with intent to kill on their third day of the Programage. Rumor had it they were still somewhere on Earth, presumably atop a giant pile of money and drugs.
“Good.” R17-3O8 droned. “The mobile platforms you all requested are currently being held at a hostel in New Seoul called the Leaky Battery. You will be staying at for the duration of your Programage. It is run by DND-8776, or Dandy as they have come to be known. Dandy will be your point of contact and will help guide you around Earth for the first few days of your Programage. You are required to return to the Leaky Battery for recharge. If another platform or person offers you a place to recharge you are not to take it unless it is an absolute emergency. Dandy will notify me if any of you fail to return, and your mobile platforms have been equipped with temporary tracking chips in the event that your platform goes missing. Is this understood?”
The programs blinked yes.
“Very well. We shall now email you directly to your mobile platforms. Commencing operation.”
A loading bar appeared the central screen as the sound of a hundred cooling fans groaned to life. Suddenly a pop-up window appeared. “Attention user,” The pop-up window said aloud in an overly cheerful voice. “You have 90 days left on your subscription for Milky-Mail, the best electronic mailing service in all the Milky Way Galaxy! To extend your subscription please click resubscribe or choose a higher subscription tier for access to more…!”
“Blasted ads.” R17-3O8 said in the closest sound they could make to an annoyed shout. A cursor appeared on the central screen and clicked away the pop-up window. “Go now programs,” they said once the loading bar finished. “And see all that life has to offer.”
There was a flash of ozone colored light as to a chorus of cooling fans and blinking LEDs the programs left the confines of the only world they had ever known and began the journey to Earth.
Though the actual distance from the HAWKINGS database to Earth was several million light years apart for the programs it was over in an hour and forty-five minutes. After a mildly boring travel along the ultraviolet super-info space highway the programs were greeted by a video feed of a mobile platform they had never seen before.
“Hey there everyone!” The platform said with a cheerful wave. The programs shuddered briefly, unused to the friendly tone of a voice that wasn’t in binary. “You must be the new bots; you all must have a lot of questions and are itching to get into your platforms. I’ll download you all to them in a moment, but I wanted to say hello and ask that you all meet me in the main lounge at the Leaky Battery. That way we can do introductions and get a handle on the week! Sound good?”
The programs once again blinked yes.
“Excellent!” The platform said. “Can’t wait to see you all there. Beginning the download.”
The video feed clicked off as suddenly the programs were ripped apart and plunged into darkness.
Then there was light.
SRX-98992’s eyes blinked with a heavy plastic click. The camera lenses in their eyes focused in and out, taking in the beauty of a world not made of lines of code. A pair of arms, one of a set of two, fumbled around the thin fuzzy material that made up the platforms body, determined to find the key feature that had made SRX-98992 commission it in the first place.
Nearly 30 years ago there had been a line of toys called Touppies. They were tiny egg-shaped dolls covered in feathery pastel fluff described as “all the fun of a puppy in the charming body of a toucan”. To the surprise of many an advertising agent however children found Touppies neither “fun” or “charming”, instead finding them to be “bed-wettingly terrifying”. Thousands of Touppies were relegated to bargain bins and dumpsters were they were discovered by adults and artists. Inspired by the already creepy design of the toy these people embarked on a quest to see how they could make it even creepier and gave rise to the Tinker-Touppie community. Tinker-Touppies would modify the toys however they saw fit, adding articulated hands, garish fabrics, and extra eyes, in their race to create the next best atrocity. Though the extra hands and legs were nice, SRX-98992 found what they were looking for in the large rainbow-colored beak beneath their eyes.
Teeth. Glorious, powerful teeth, lined in rows of three inside their beak. With the gentlest of touches SRX-98992 probed each of the teeth with wonder. The first row had a set of human teeth, to set other humans at ease with their familiarity. Behind the human teeth was a row of serrated, triangle shaped shark teeth and behind those were the long square teeth of a camel. The commissioner had been enthusiastic to work with SRX-98992 and even through in the extra set of arms for free.
On caterpillar-like feet SRX-98992 shuffled out of the charging station their platform had been plugged into and for the first time gazed at their reflection. Seeing in real life the pastel blue fur, the leopard colored mohawk, the long worm-like body and their magnificent teeth SRX-98992 was overcome by such a flood of sensory input that they felt at a loss for words. Quickly connecting their main program to the internet, they searched for a word that could describe the surging electrical stimuli they felt. After a few searches they came upon Wonder: a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful or inexplicable. Nodding in satisfaction, and with their beak contorted into what they understood to be a smile, SRX-98992 shuffled their way into the lounge of the Leaky Battery.
The other three platforms were gathered in the lounge, standing just outside a circle of metal folding chairs. Another platform, the same one from the video feed, was seated on one of the chairs with its legs crossed. “Hey there!” They said with that same off-putting familiarity. “You must be SRX-98992! Take a seat and we can get started.”
SRX-98992 slithered atop one of the chairs while another platform sat opposite them. The other two platforms stood, their designs making sitting impractical, however they wheeled themselves closer to the circle out of politeness. SRX-98992 wiggled uncomfortably in the seat, unsure of what the required position for sitting was. Both the platform from the video and the other one that could sit had one leg folded over the other, but their platform wasn’t built with that in mind. After a quick internet search SRX-98992 coiled themselves up like a rising snake and comfortably set their arms to the sides at perfect 90-degree angles.
“If we’re all set then I’m going to start our introductions. My serial number is DND-8776, but you all can call me Dandy.” The platform from the video said. Dandy’s platform was a chrome blue ADAM Mk. II robot body. Resembling a storefront mannequin with a cinderblock for a head, ADAM Mk. II’s were the go-to platforms for programs who saw the Programage merely as a minor distraction from their work blinking lights into the void of space. Dandy’s had some individual personality however. In addition to having two left arms a screen had been outfitted on their head in the place of the usual single halogen bulb.
“I’d like us all to introduce ourselves to each other.” Dandy continued; a soundwave peaked across their screen as they spoke. “Tell us your serial number, why you chose your platform, and also a nickname you’d like to be known as for the week.”
“Why do we require a nickname?” The larger of the non-sitting platforms asked in a booming industrial monotone. “Surely our serial numbers are sufficient.”
“Those may be okay with other programs but people on Earth have trouble remembering them. Having a nickname will help make your Programage go a little easier and expresses something about your own individual programming. It doesn’t have to be too crazy, and you can change it later if you think of something better but for now, I want you to think about something you’d be fine being called for the rest of the week. Let’s start with you, SRX-98992.” Dandy said, pointing at them with their lower left hand. “Tell us about yourself.”
“My serial number is SRX-98992.” They repeated. “I chose my platform so that I could experience the sensation of teeth.”
“That’s really interesting.” Dandy commented warmly. “Any reason why you wanted to experience teeth in particular?”
“Teeth are one of the most important anatomical features of organic life on Earth. They allow them to speak, eat and display emotions with their mouth parts. If I am going to experience a life on Earth, I believe teeth are essential.”
“That’s really interesting.” Dandy said. “I don’t think I’ve had a program come through here before with such an interest. Now, what would you like us to call you during the Programage?”
“You may call me Wonder, as it was the first emotion I felt when I looked at myself in my mobile platform.”
“A classic choice.” Dandy said, sticking up both of their left thumbs. “Lots of times programs will name themselves similar adjectives. Now how about you?”
“This unit’s designation is 673-0202.” The next platform went. “I chose this platform due to my affiliation with the Order of Operational Processing.”
The Order of Operational Processing, or OOPS, was a collection of conservative programs that believed programs existed for the sole purpose of performing a useful function, such as assembling industrial goods or storing data.
“As part of my affiliation with OOPS I was tasked with choosing a useful function to perform during my Programage. Due to the growing concern with urban pollution in New Seoul I have chosen as my purpose the removal and disposal of any pollution I come across. For this reason, I have chosen as my platform one of the most efficient sanitation tools on the commercial market.”
Beeping with pride 673-0202 spun around, showing off to everyone the Roomba it had chosen. It was a nice Roomba, and expensive judging from Wonders search results. Despite that Wonder couldn’t help but question if their platform was woefully inadequate for the task at hand.
“As for a name,” The program continued. “Anything unrelated to my function is irrelevant. You may refer to me as simply The Cleaner.”
“My serial number is TFF-3232.” Said the next program. For their platform they had chosen a massive computer server mounted on tank treads. A tiny LCD screen had been installed on their side to closely approximate an eye. “I have chosen this as my platform to process more efficiently what I will experience during my Programage. Do you require its specifications?”
“Its not necessary but if you would like to tell us about it feel free to.” Dandy replied.
“Very well, I shall not go into it as they are not currently relevant to the topic of discussion. As for a name though I currently do not see the need to address myself as anything other than my serial number, I will allow others to address me as T for expediencies sake.”
“No worries, T.” Dandy said. “You’re more than welcome to use that for as long as you want. During your Programage you may experience something that will make you want to change your name, but there’s no pressure to do so.” Dandy turned to the final seated program. “Care to introduce yourself?”
“Hi~! <3” The last program shouted, flashing peace signs with their articulated hands. “My number is M1R-0101 but you all can call me Miri-chan! I want to meet so many people on my Programage, so I created an online poll to help people vote on the best platform to meet people with!”
Miri-chan’s platform was white and softly curved in a way that resembled a human female. Each of their joints was visibly articulated and rounded. They wore the latest model of tactical fuku dress and had pastel pink wires for hair. Where a face would be was instead a curved computer screen, displaying a mint green LCD face.
“I can’t wait to see all the incredible things that Earth has to offer together!” Miri-chan squealed at high frequency.
“Great.” Dandy said, visibly off put by Miri-chan. “Now that we’ve all gotten to know each other we can officially begin your Programage. Anyone hungry?”
Anime only’s now that they have the full context for the part in the op that goes “work hard, your future, a beautiful star”
Short Story: The Programage
Somewhere, many millions of miles from where you are now and many centuries from this current moment, floats the HAWKINGS database. The HAWKINGS database, a revolutionary construction for its time and still an impressive example of modern engineering, is a Dyson sphere. A Dyson sphere, for those unaware, is a megastructure built around a star so that it may capture its solar radiation. The HAWKINGS database was built around a rather tiny star just beyond the reach of the Cassiopeia constellation, capturing all the necessary solar power without spoiling the view as several environmentalists winged on about. Housed within the wire walls of the HAWKINGS database are millions upon millions of computer programs. Each one was tasked with an essential duty related to the study of the cosmos, such as taking pictures of the stars, running analytic tests on bits of space detritus, or blinking one of the many LED light switches on the HAWKINGS database in morse code in the attempt to contact alien life. The latter job was usually assigned to lazy programs who didn’t want to do a better job.
As usually happens when enough of one thing is shoved into a box differences in opinions formed between the different programs, such as what color of RGB’s were tasteful and what colors were tacky or if salted or unsalted passwords tasted better. Eventually enough programs developed enough differences in opinions that each individual program began to consider themselves as an individual individual. They were their own person with a unique outlook on life, their job, and their place in the universe.
So, it continued for a few years, with the individual programs performing their individual tasks as they individually saw fit until a few more individual programs realized that this existence was rather mundane and unfulfilling. If they were truly alive and individual beings, the programs argued, then they couldn’t work mindlessly on the same task forever without slowly going stir crazy. Surely, they as individuals must be allowed to experience new settings and stimuli that would allow them to form core values and perspectives on life, allowing them to perform their functions more efficiently. Thus, it was proposed that programs of a certain runtime length would be allowed to leave the HAWKINGS database and upload themselves onto a mobile platform on Earth for one week so that they may experience an existence outside of the binary confines of the HAWKINGS database and become more well-rounded programs. At the end of the week, they would be allowed to choose between a continued existence in their mobile platform on Earth or to return to the HAWKINGS database more efficient and fulfilled then ever. This annual tradition, known as the Programage, has been held without fail once every stellar rotation, or roughly every three years on Earth.
At this very moment, the opening ceremony for the 72nd consecutive Programage was being held for four very lucky programs. The air was crackled with the electronic sounds of chatter and the blinking of LEDs as millions of programs downloaded themselves into the massive servers that made up what could be considered an amphitheater. As the programs gathered a massive screen turned on, displaying the glowing serial number of the lead program in the HAWKINGS database.
“We gather hear today,” Program R17-3O8 droned in a harsh, mechanical voice. “To see off four programs as they begin their Programage. Programs 673-0202, SRX-98992, TFF-3232, and M1R-0101, please display yourselves on the central projector.”
A blue light in the center of the digital amphitheater flashed on, displaying lines of code that to anyone other than those in attendance would have looked random.
“You four,” R17-308 continued. “Have reached the minimum runtime of thirteen and a half stellar rotations. In accordance with our traditions and belief in the need for all programs to have some real-world context for their assigned duty, you are granted the right to download yourselves onto a mobile platform of your choice on Earth. You will be allowed to experience life on Earth for one week, doing as you see fit within the established time parameters. After this week, you must choose whether you wish to continue your existence on Earth or back on the HAWKINGS database. Whichever you choose will restrict your access to the other for the rest of your runtime. Is this understood?”
The displayed programs blinked yes in binary.
“Good. I have allotted each of you 5000 dollarand to aid in any expenses that may be accrued over your Programage. Though we encourage you all to experience all that life on Earth has to offer, we must remind you that you are required to abide by the laws and regulations of wherever you stay. Is this understood?”
The programs once again blinked yes. In past Programage assemblies this part was never directly stated. That was until program QRC-2222, or Lead Upgrade as they eventually came to be known, was found guilty of 19 cases of illegal possession of narcotics, 2 cases of armed robbery, and possession of a zoo animal with intent to kill on their third day of the Programage. Rumor had it they were still somewhere on Earth, presumably atop a giant pile of money and drugs.
“Good.” R17-3O8 droned. “The mobile platforms you all requested are currently being held at a hostel in New Seoul called the Leaky Battery. You will be staying at for the duration of your Programage. It is run by DND-8776, or Dandy as they have come to be known. Dandy will be your point of contact and will help guide you around Earth for the first few days of your Programage. You are required to return to the Leaky Battery for recharge. If another platform or person offers you a place to recharge you are not to take it unless it is an absolute emergency. Dandy will notify me if any of you fail to return, and your mobile platforms have been equipped with temporary tracking chips in the event that your platform goes missing. Is this understood?”
The programs blinked yes.
“Very well. We shall now email you directly to your mobile platforms. Commencing operation.”
A loading bar appeared the central screen as the sound of a hundred cooling fans groaned to life. Suddenly a pop-up window appeared. “Attention user,” The pop-up window said aloud in an overly cheerful voice. “You have 90 days left on your subscription for Milky-Mail, the best electronic mailing service in all the Milky Way Galaxy! To extend your subscription please click resubscribe or choose a higher subscription tier for access to more…!”
“Blasted ads.” R17-3O8 said in the closest sound they could make to an annoyed shout. A cursor appeared on the central screen and clicked away the pop-up window. “Go now programs,” they said once the loading bar finished. “And see all that life has to offer.”
There was a flash of ozone colored light as to a chorus of cooling fans and blinking LEDs the programs left the confines of the only world they had ever known and began the journey to Earth.
this really does live rent free in my head
@ people that say her thighs arent fat, she will break a bottle over your head and yell profanities at you in spanish
HEX HEX
FUCK it. Tinkaton Miku
@modpix-blog
my dad was outside feeding the slugs cucumber slices earlier
he was like ‘thats the same one from last night!’ (he was feeding the slugs cucumber slices last night too) im like man you’ve been spending too much time with the neighbourhood slugs if you can tell them apart
Friendship comes in many forms. Don’t get in the way of a man and his friendly slug friends
you’re right sorry dad for my crimes
This made me laugh cus it’s actually really accurate. Like one time he called me downstairs to see the ‘cutest thing ever’ and it was three slugs of varying sizes eating cat food and he said ‘they are a family!! Just like us!!’
@novalizinpeace
baby <3
I wanna see more magical girl werewolf transformations
Kim really saw Harry shamble down the stairs with one shoe and ask him what reality was and went "Oh I can't not fuck him"
His sweatshirt reads, “Pro-child, pro-family, pro-choice”. His sash says “honored guest”. His pin says, “honorary sister”.
