Game of Thrones Daily

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Misplaced Lens Cap

Love Begins
dirt enthusiast
Acquired Stardust
Today's Document
Cosmic Funnies
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

titsay
i don't do bad sauce passes

@theartofmadeline
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shark vs the universe
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
hello vonnie

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@buchino
Forget about the brotherly and otherly love—motherly love is just the thing for you!
If there's one thing I know about mothers, it's that they love nothing more than references to cult classic avant-garde/R&B/doo-wop/freak rock bands from 50+ years ago that some guy named Arty or Gene kinda liked back when they were shacking up in the Village before she met your father. Like, definitely your mother wants to think about “Son of Suzy Creamcheese” and not about her own child who thought this folded piece of cardstock in an envelope was a sufficient form of gratitude for everything she's ever done for them.
Wowie zowie, Mother’s Day is just around the bend. Send her this card.
4.13" x 5.83"
blank inside
envelope included
Previously:
Happy Mother’s Day, Frank by Michael Buchino Happy fatherfucking Mother’s Day by Michael Buchino The Miracle of Motherhood by Michael Bu
“The Bugs in My Beard” by Michael Buchino
The bugs in my beard I bring back from my bike ride are just souvenirs from failed-attempt flybys Buzzing and bumping and flipping and flapping, jittering, jumping, slithering, slapping… One proboscis, two antennae, six hundred thousand limbs, shiny shells, wondrous wings, and a slimy trail of mucin… Each camouflaged, colorful, cute creepy crawly hitching a lift on the fuzzy face trolley can look like a lot at the end of my haul, but these little critters don’t bug me at all!
I began reciting the first stanza of this poem in 2012, when I was riding my bike ~60 miles per week and had a very long beard (proof).
When I was assigned another installment of Lexigraphique for Illustoria № 27: Bugs in 2025, I pitched revisiting the poem. The spread became something else altogether, but it inspired me to finally completing what I had started 13½ years ago.
Here’s the full poem, animated for your pleasure.
Ho stampato questo panda rosso con linoleum e un cucchiaio in cucina. Ovviamente mi sono ispirato a Charley Harper.
Desideri una stampa? Inviami $10-25 tramite Venmo @ buchino e includi il tuo indirizzo.
“Boléro” performed by Linus Akesson on a variety of homemade 8-bit instruments.
The Fourth of December 2024 by Kristofferson San Pablo
Exploding Whale by Michael Buchino - $24 Original hand-printed linocut art, edition of 28. 10" × 8" Perfectly imperfect: these were printed on my kitchen counter and pressed with a wooden spoon. Some look pretty sharp. Others may be off-center, lopsided, splotchy, messy or all of the above. Prints come in teal, blue or black.
GPOYW - Fall Edition
But I am a hater, and I will not be polite. The machine is disgusting and we should break it. The people who build it are vapid shit-eating cannibals glorifying ignorance. I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself.
—Anthony Moser, “I Am an AI Hater”
What Is “AI”?
“Al” is a marketing term. It doesn't refer to a coherent set of technologies.
The term serves to obscure that diversity, however, so the conversation becomes clearer if one speaks in terms of “automation” rather than “Al” and looks at precisely what is being automated. In doing so, we find several types of automation.
Decision making.
Classification.
Recommendation.
Transcription/Translation.
Text and Image Generation.
Lumping all of these different technologies under the label of “Al” creates the illusion of “intelligent” technology: if our photo software's sharpening tool is imagined to be the same thing as the system that appears to cheerfully answer questions on any topic, then both are perceived as even more “intelligent” or even “magical” than each alone, and we're more likely to accept automation in other domains.
—Emily M. Bender and Alex Hanna, The AI Con: How to Fight Big Tech’s Hype and Create the Future We Want, 2025
“Suffering” by Satchel
“Yes, You Are” by Brad
“Wrapped in My Memory” by Shawn Smith
Then the last thing I want to say about the US Navy is this: Occasionally our ships would get visited by admirals. Even destroyers and mine-sweepers get visited, like for inspections or courtesy tours or whatever. And as they wander around, they see a female able seaman, they sometimes stop to chat and ask questions. These were usually older men, once a woman—that was fun. They all started at Annapolis and made Navy their life, and no matter how fast they rose through the ranks, they’ve lived on ships and know the drill. So they’re well-informed, and interested in how things are for sailors now. Curious and friendly, I’d say, and surprisingly normal. Like a captain, but less pretentious. Then later I looked it up and learned that admirals’ salaries top out at $200,000 a year. No one in the Navy gets paid more than that per year. So they call this the pay differential, it’s sometimes expressed as a ratio from lowest pay to highest. That ratio for the Navy is about one to eight. For one of the most respected and well-run organizations on Earth. Sometimes this gets called wage parity or economic democracy, but let’s just call it fairness, effectiveness, esprit de corps. One to eight. No wonder those admirals seemed so normal—they were! Whereas in the corporate world I’ve read the average wage ratio is like one to five hundred. Actually that was the median; one to 1,500 happens pretty often. The top executives in these companies earn in ten minutes what it takes their starting employees all year to earn. Ponder that one for a while, fellow citizens. People talk about incentives, for instance. A word from business schools. Who is incentivized to do what in a wage ratio of one to a thousand? Those getting a thousand times more than starting wage earners, what’s their incentive from out of that situation? To hide, I’d say. To hide the fact that they don’t actually do a thousand times more than their employees. Hiding like that, they won’t be normal. They’ll be bullshitters. And for the lowest income folks, what’s their incentive? I’m not coming up with one right off the bat, but the ones that do eventually come to mind sound cynical or beat down or completely delusional. Like, I hope I win the lottery, or, I’m going to shoot up now, or, The world is so fucked. You hear that kind of thing, right? Maybe incentive isn’t the word here. Disincentive, to keep it in that lingo. When you get one pay amount, and someone doing something easier gets a thousand of that pay amount, that’s a disincentive to care about anything. At that point you throw a rock through a window, or vote for some asshole who is going to break everything, which may give you a chance to start over, and if that doesn’t work then at least you have said fuck you to the thousand-getters. And so on.
Excerpt from The Ministry for the Future (Chapter 76) by Kim Stanley Robinson, 2020 (libby / buy)
Boring Ghost
Story by Sam Miller Animation by Michael Buchino
In the early days of 2020, I saw Sam Miller perform a side-splitting stand-up set in Portland. Sam and I connected through Instagram and became fast friends. Later that spring, when a little free time opened up (I lost all my client work when pandy hit 🎉), we decided to see if some of his free-floating ruminations would work as a moving picture.
I set his voice memo to a couple hundred hand-drawn scribbles. Et voilà, une animation est née. It has been featured in the Kyiv International Short Film Festival 10 (December 2020) and Portland Comedy Film Festival (September 2022).
GPOYW - That Time in Ought Two I Visited Chicago and Had Really Long Hair Edition