let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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@jay-berd
Here's the original post (on FB, alas)
[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post of user Zed Potts on April 3rd, 2026 at 8:10 PM reading:
The one thing about Al that most people don't seem to get, the really critical thing, is that this whole thing isn't a "tech miracle" it's just the wal-mart scam. When wal-mart moves into town, the first thign they do is they run a bunch of sales, for years and years.
not because they care. Not because they just really wanna help. But because they really want to drive every single store that sells the same things they sell out of business. And because they don't really want to (and can't really compete) on the quality front, they do this by just leveraging deep pockets to offer really, really, really cheap prices. They do two things with this: First, they close every single other business that sells the things they sell. Second, they manage to get everyone used to shittier versions of the stuff they used to have higher standards on - it may not be as good, but hey, it's cheap, and who can complain these days?
Al art costs a LOT to make, and it costs way way way more to build the machine models that make it, and this money all goes straight to creating a bunch of waste power, heat, and pollution. It's the anti-environmentalist effect your mother told you about. But it's virtually free to you to use right now, even for the paid services. Do you know why?
Because they want you to use it. They're trying to kill off every source of news writing, picture painting, song singing, book writing, movie making, library storing, lesson teaching, code writing, information sharing, community building, thought thinking they can POSSIBLY manage to replace with worse (but cheaper) versions that can run through machines they run
and then they can charge you for it, and get BACK some money for the billions and billions and billions of dollars that they keep pouring into this stuff.
The people who build this stuff aren't your friend. This product isn't cool. It's not "no big deal" when you share an Al thought, or project, or message - it's about you willingly hopping on board with the people who want to kill everything you love so they can run a zombie robot version of it that they can rent to you later when it's all you have left. this isn't a "conspiracy". It's not secret. It's just the fucking plan and it's right out there in the open and these people even say it out loud if you'd start listening.
End ID]
Mostly accurate, but what I'm missing here is that a lot of these AI's don't want to charge YOU for it.
They want to get you hooked in AI as your main search engine and then charge advertisers to determine the results when you ask for the best new smartphone.
They want to get you hooked on putting all your e-mails through AI and then charge companies for your data, your most private thoughts.
And of course they want to get states, military and big coorporations hooked on AI and then charge them a fortune. So your taxes go to an AI that decides which neighborhoods to police, who to accuse of insurance fraud, and who to kill by drone (already all happening now).
Plenty of these services might continue to be free for you because you are the product.
i know weâre both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what iâm saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when itâs raining. what iâm saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what iâm saying is that iâm here for you and if the train comes please move.
i wrote this 7 years ago, somehow. every day someone else finds it and whispers to me - oh, i understand this. something always turns in the wash of my stomach: i am so, so glad you feel seen. i wish you had no idea what this post was about.
i wrote this while working in a program for new writers. on wednesdays, two of the teachers would be contractually obligated to read our writing aloud to the group of 300+ teens. i had never read my work in public before. i had something like 6k poems and was panicking about it. none of them are good enough. sometimes the train is howling. it is hard, actually, sometimes, even as an adult.
and then i thought - what is one thing i wish i could tell all of them. each of these 300 kids. what did i need to hear, at 16?
i wanted to tell them about the day you wake up, and the sun feels warm finally. i wanted to tell them about carving a life out of soapstone, your hands turning bloody. i wanted to tell them that sometimes yes - it actually does feel easy. i wanted to tell them about weddings and cookie dough and long road trips. about albums of new music and old friends laughing and the sound of snow falling.
you will learn the pattern of the train. you will learn to close your eyes when you hear the engine rumbling. you will learn to let yourself have the grey days in their lily-soft numbness. sometimes it will feel like life is wet paint, and god has smeared your canvas across a sewer grate. sometimes it will be so boring it isnât even pronounceable - the tenacious, soundless blankness. survival isnât just ugly nights and wild mornings. it is also the steady, unimportant moments. it is just driving with your seatbelt on. it is calling a friend on the way home. it is burying your face into the fur of your dog.
when i had finished reading this poem aloud, the auditorium was silent for a solid minute. someone stood up to take a picture of where it had been projected onto a screen, and then three more people followed the action, and then - like a bad internet story, people remembered they were supposed to be clapping. kids came up to me after it - thank you for writing that. i think i hear a train coming.
i would write this differently now, i think, but it has been 7 years. i still live by the tracks. i also havenât picked up a blade in over 10 years. the scars are still there, but these days i only pick up scissors to cut my hair. i know why you canât tell your mom about it. i know how the numbness slips over everything, a restless horrible cotton. i know how when you dropped the dish, you werenât crying about the broken glass. i know about feeling like all the roads have closed their exits, that you arenât supposed to still-be-here - and yet.
i am still here, and still yours, and i havenât forgotten. what iâm saying is if any hope is calling to you - i know itâs hard, but you have to listen. iâm saying keep driving, but slow down the car. sit down in the shower, iâm not judging you. we can stay in the dark with the good hot water and do nothing but stare. notice the stab wound. make it through another tuesday.
i know what it is like to miss yourself. do what you need to. come home to me. i am writing to you, my past self, from the future. iâll be waiting for you.
and when the train is coming - please move.
my hottest take
Counter point, those machines can make me a peach sprite.
guys did you know the tech in that nefangled machine revolutionized preemie healthcare
yeah the guy who invented them made incredibly precise infusion pumps (as opposed to gravity fed ivs) which not only meant they could give medications to teeny tiny babies safely, it's also used for insulin pumps and portable dialysis machines. the key element is that it's a peristaltic pump so the liquid stays in sterile tubing for safety
(unholy drink cloaca uses it to dispense precise amounts of flavored sugar syrup)
Then how the haters loved him,
As they shouted out with glee,
"Unholy Drink Cloaca
You'll go down in history!"
You DON'T get this on any other site in quite this format.
In 38 years of life I have learned 1 thing;
If anyone is ever training you to replace them in a position and tells you 'its an easy job I don't do much' what this means is that you are about to spend six months to a year catching up on all the stuff they didn't do and sorting out the stuff they did poorly.
In related news I finally managed to finish un fucking my predecessor's lack of a filing system.
Apparently this post is wildly Jon from Magnus Archives coded but I regret to inform everyone that there were no weird sketchy paranormal occurences. There were only ten banker boxes full of unsorted training records, incident reports, uniform recipts, daily activity reports, and similar quite ordinary and boring paperwork. There have been zero flesh worms or NotEntities. I did find a stash of paper clips in one box under the papers but that's it.
when i was a tiny baby queer (aka a 24-year-old), i went to my first pride festival probably three months after i kicked ex-gay therapy to the curb and came out to my parents. being the people they are, my parents came with me. they werenât really sure about this whole gay thing, but they loved me and wanted me to be safe and happy and wanted to be involved in what was important to me, so they came along. (i also think my mother still might have thought i might get drugged or murdered or beaten by a protester of which there were plenty.)
anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.
i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? whatâd you get? so i showed her, and i was like, âIâm not sure why itâs a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.â
and my mom, who was some form of ministerâs wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks iâm joking.
âWhat?â i say.
ââŠitâs a cock and a pussy, Jules,â she says flatly, and that is the story of how i died at the age of 24 while attending my first pride festival.
I love how every June this one gets dug up and passed around again, lmao.
oh no is this what weâre doing now
âŠrelicâŠ
*crumbles and blows away on the wind*
you guys make such pretty gifs with such pretty captions and coloring like even when i dont go to a fandom i'll see gifs and be like wow that person is cool and that is still true after over a decade on this site. i think gifs are cool and that is why i'm stranded here forever. i love u gifs and gifmakers
im just so happy i live in a time period where actual meaningful biological transition is possible. even if we lose rights or the ability to exist in public, nothing can turn back the clock on that, and just by having any sort of access to that our lives are made immensely better. millions of our sisters throughout history would never have dreamed of a day where they could have what HRT does for us.
please don't lose the plot of this. if you're a trans person on HRT you're a living miracle, the dream of hundreds of millions of your ancestors. your lives are all deeply meaningful no matter what anyone says.
Paramore was right. Hard times
I feel like I need to share this because idk if Europeans are familiar with the presence of Aldi in the US, but at least especially in my area theyâve been growing a lot recently. Like Aldi bought out some local failing grocery chains where I live (Louisiana) and have opened Aldis in all these somewhat rural communities and small towns, which for the record Iâm fine with
But as a result of this they are advertising a lot more in my area and also in many cases, the people in these areas have never been confronted with Aldi or any European grocery store. So the ads that Aldi is pushing out to its new US customer base feature a cowboy shopping at Aldi who is explaining to new Aldi customers how Aldi works. Like this cowboy is explaining you gotta put a quarter in the shopping cart and why there are very little name brands. A cowboy is how they want to reach their American customer base. They gave us a cowboy
Here he is, the Aldi Cowboy
Are we calling women who read shitty harlequin romance novels porn addicts now?
If you read one paragraph of vintage victorian smut you'd hurl.
God forbid women read a lame book with sex
people have been writing fucked up erotica for hundreds of years. of all porn consumption habits to label as an addiction i think reading erotica books is like.. one of the least applicable examples and written erotica is one of the least exploitative forms of porn out there. stop pathologizing things that give you ick, you're allowed to just say you dislike something
again I must stress that ten or more years ago mormon leaders put out a statement that reading romance novels was equivalent to porn addiction and both would send you to hell
you guys are not progressive you're just mormons in disguise
Not to be that person, but if you remember this, how's that newfound back pain going for ya babe
PHRASE ADDED!
LET'S DO THE FORK IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL
LET'S DO THE FORK IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL
DING-DING-DING DING-DING DING DING-DING DING DING-DING-DING DING-DING DING DING-DING DING DING-DING-DING DING-DING DING DING-DING DING DING-DING-DING DING-DING DING DING-DING DING
check out the mourning dovesâ new single âhooOOOO hoo hoo hooâ if you get the chance. sound of the summer.
âŠ.?
???????????
oh wait this is EXTRAORDINARILY delightful. this isnât a case of Blorbo From My Shows this is Henrietta Pickles From My Porch