Bela here. We fact check some of the (many) ridiculous things said by Lily
Orchard, aka CD-Call.
Regarding asks; we don't speculate without evidence, and we don't answer leading questions.
Lily's throwing a hissy fit over one of your posts.
Really now? And by name, you say? My goodness. What a wonderful gift to wake up to.
To anybody, particularly any questioning Lily/CD fans, who stumbled on this blog thanks to her shout-out, welcome! Our little corner of tumblr is here to provide the honest critique and dry fact-checking that Lily's output is sorely lacking. We don't cover the more serious stuff; for that, I strongly recommend you check out:
Bumbled-Bees, run by one of Lily's former fans, and who does a great job deconstructing Lily's methods of abusing and controlling her audience.
Confused-Rat, who has done an exceptional job cataloguing the many times Lily has lied about her own past.
As for us, we're happy to provide running commentary on Lily's god-awful D&D opinions as long as Lily keeps making them. It's not like there's a scarcity of things to talk about, either; we have some thoughts on Lily's ideas for character creation, after all. (3d6 per stat in a system where a score of 8 or lower permanently cripples your character? Really, Lily, it's like you don't want anyone to play your game)
In this 1995 First Person Shooter, you play as Kyle Katarn; a Rebel mercenary on a mission to stop the Empire's new superweapon (well, two of them, actually)
Many elements of Dark Forces have been incorporated into the Star Wars Canon, both pre and post Disney (the aforementioned superweapon, Dark Troopers, briefly featured as antagonists in The Mandalorian)
Despite this, there are elements of the game that cannot (and should not) be transplanted to canon; elements that only make sense within the context of Dark Forces being a game.
For example; Kyle Katarn is able to carry seven weapons on his body while moving at a speed of 60 kilometers (35 miles) an hour (yes, really). It takes 20 shots from a stormtrooper rifle to kill him, while stormtroopers themselves will go down in two. And if Kyle is downed in combat, he will respawn near his place of death, provided he has enough extra lives (pictured) in reserve.
I adore Dark Forces, yet I recognise that it is a very... abstract view of the Star Wars universe. Kyle Katarn, in the Star Wars Legends canon, does not have the power of instantaneous reincarnation. Anyone who tried to argue that he does, while using Dark Forces as evidence, should be laughed at.
This rings true for every Star Wars video game, by the way. Anakin Skywalker never podraced off of Tattooine, despite what Star Wars racer would have you think. Luke Skywalker never flew a Naboo Starfighter for Rogue Squadron, nor did he ever fight a jawenko lava beast in a Jawa's sandcrawler.
and the idea that the dark and light side of the force are independent "tracks" with their own named powers is a convention of the video games, because that is how video games work.
so if your only point of reference is the video games (and specifically the Bioware games), you're going to have a very skewed perception of what the force is.
I think you might need to explain. Im trying to wrap my head around Lily's not-democracy. Like, is she trying to use the 3 branches of government but tweaks so her oc is effectively above the law and can kill people who don't listen to her?
So Lily has reinvented modern day dictatorships, with an extra layer of stupidity.
According to Lily's first paragraph, "The three-pronged system of leadership... are designed to keep each other in check." But that's very clearly not the case; the council has no means of keeping the Sith (Aliana) in check. If she doesn't like them, she has the authority to kill them (???) with zero repercussions. Perhaps "The Crown" has some sort of authority, but Lily gives them no description or agency so we'll just file them away under "puppet monarchy".
So we have an individual who's authority is unchallenged, but who "stresses the importance of elections" despite the outcome of those elections being irrelevant to her authority (and who has the capability to nullify those elections if she doesn't like the result. Again, by killing people).
Excerpt from a longer post about how "Elves are warriors by default" (which is silly. Elves are whatever you want them to be, because Elves aren't real)
"Drop unholy", aka Draw Upon Holy Might, and Armor of Faith are priest spells in Baldur's Gate.
Armor of Faith does not exist outside of Baldur's Gate 2.
Armor of Faith, BG1/2 fandom wiki
Draw Upon Holy Might does exist in tabletop 2nd edition, however it is significantly weaker than its Baldur's Gate counterpart; it only raises one ability score, rather than all 3 physical scores at once, and more importantly, upon finishing the spell the priest will be incapable of doing anything for the next 1 to 4 hours.
Draw Upon Holy Might, AD&D 2nd edition wiki. One turn equals 10 minutes, for the record
"It's always funny getting talked down to by someone using D&D mechanics while clearly having never played a real game of the damn thing."
Damn straight.
how do you feel about the rule changes in 5.5 compared to 5th edition?
Mixed feelings, mostly positive, but not positive enough that I feel the need to make the switch anytime soon. Aside from incorporating minutia and errata that 5e accumulated over the decade (such as clarifications of movement vs transportation and the wording around "one levelled spell per turn"), there's some stuff that stuck out to me as... how do we put it, normalizing power levels? As a positive and negative example of what I mean;
Positive: the Cleric ability Divine Intervention was changed from "roll a d100, if you roll below your cleric level, you get the benefits of deus ex machina" to "one free Cleric spell of 5th level or lower, per day, even if it's not on your current list of prepared spells". The latter isn't especially fancy, since you already have 5th level cleric spells by the time you get this, but it's always going to be useful, and in such a way that the DM can easily incorporate its potential impact into the adventure. The former, however, only has a 10 to 20 percent chance of working (until you hit level 20) and can absolutely break the game if it does work. While it can be fun, it's by no means reliable enough for a DM to bank on it being relevant to an adventure.
Negative: Now when someone is counterspelled, they don't lose the spell slot they would have used up otherwise. That means that if you manage to counterspell an enemy's 1-a-day Circle of Death or other high level "soften up the whole party" spell, they can just do the exact same thing on their next turn. In theory, this prevents the players from nullifying a large chunk of an enemy's overall threat with a single lucky roll. In practice... getting that lucky roll feels great, and the player is still spending resources (in the form of a 3rd level+ spell slot) to pull the hail mary off.
To illustrate my point, one of the most famous moments in Actual-Play history happened when (Critical Role Season 1 spoilers) one member of Vox Machina used a 9th level spell slot to counterspell the Big Bad's attempt to teleport away from the final battle. A spell slot he was holding in reserve, because he needed it to save another player from certain death once the battle was done. That other character's life was effectively being sacrificed in order to keep the boss on the field and guarantee victory.
If that combat had been run under 2024 rules, the Big Bad would've just waited until their next turn and bamfed outta there anyway. Better luck next time, nerds.
But that is just one edge case. I think the 2024 rules get more things right than they do wrong. Weapon mastery? Good stuff. Decoupling Heritage from ability scores, and tying them to occupational background instead? Good stuff. Rangers that don't suck? Good stuff. Berserker barbarians that don't suck? Very good stuff.
But none of that stuff is so good that it invalidates the edition before it, and that's the edition I last spent a few hundred $AUD on the rulebooks for. There are a few things I will probably incorporate into my own games, such as the aforementioned Divine Intervention change, but stuff like that is easily house-ruled into the existing 5e framework.
Someone explain to me how these two scenarios are different when both end with innocent children dead, but somehow it’s justifiable when it’s the children of colonist but not when it’s the children of slavers. 🤔
Just to be clear, neither are justifiable, but it’s weird Lily only condemns the Hebrew God for it.
If Lily had ever touched the early editions, she would know you have to roll your abilities before you can even choose what class to play! After all, it doesn't matter how much of an elven supremacist you are; if you don't get at least 8 for intelligence and charisma, you're not getting to play one. Want to play a paladin? Not without that elusive 17 charisma and 13 wisdom, bucko!
This metric was flipped in later editions as ability score requirements were doffed, and point buy generation came to prominence. But it was also flipped in the Baldur's Gate games:
(these steps must be completed in order - going back to a previous step will reset all following steps. Very annoying if you want to change your character's portrait late into character creation!)
It's something I glossed over in my previous post, but BG1/2 will automatically raise the scores you rolled if they're not high enough for a given race/class combo. Fine for a single player game, practically unheard of in oldschool D&D
My favorite type of Lily post is the sort with a ridiculous graph I can inflict upon my friends. My second-favorite is any like the above, where Lily manages to contradict herself within two sentences.
"How much a game sold has NOTHING to do with its quality. But also the early Baldur's Gate games sold a BAJILLION copies*, therefore they're the bestest games in existence."
*The idea that PC gaming was in a slump in 1998-1999 is laughable. This was the era of Starcraft, of Quake 3, of Age of Empires 2, of Half-Life, of RollerCoaster Goddamn Tycoon. Baldur's Gate 1's sales figures of 1 million in the first year are certainly impressive, but that still puts it leagues behind its chief competitor (and most obvious influence) Diablo 1, even further behind Diablo 2, and ultimately on par with, say... Lego Island.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thoroughly enjoying Lily revealing how little she knows about D&D in real time, but as someone who's played a bit of every numbered edition of D&D, I really need to address her misconceptions regarding 2nd Edition's attack metric, To Hit Armor Class Zero (THAC0, usually pronounced thack-oh)
(caution: old-school D&D autism ahead)
Here's the simple, straightforward explanation of how THAC0 works:
A given player character will have a set THAC0, which represents the score they need to roll on a d20 to successfully hit an enemy with an armor class of zero. To figure out what number you need to roll to hit a given defender, simply subtract the armor class of the defender from the attacker's THAC0.
Thus, to hit an armor class of 4, an attacker with THAC0 of 10 would need to roll (10 - 4) = 6. To hit an armor class of -2, that same attacker would need to roll (10 - [-2])= 12.
Perhaps you can already see some issues with this. Let's run through two of the most common:
1: The attacker doesn't always know the enemy's Armor Class; Oftentimes, to add suspense to an encounter, the DM will withhold an enemy's exact AC, instead choosing to tell the players only if their attack is a miss or a hit. This is especially important in scenarios where an enemy possesses unknown defenses, such as enchanted armor or a spell's protection.
Here's how a common to-hit scenario might occur with
THAC0:
Player: "I swing my sword at the beast. I roll... an 8!"
DM: "Okay, and your THAC0 is...?"
Player: "It's 11. Is that enough?"
DM: (Okay, so this thing has armor class of 2, so take 2 from 11 and we get 9, and he rolled...) "It was 8, right?"
Player: "No, 11"
DM: "I mean your roll"
Player: "Oh yeah, 8".
DM: "Cool. Your attack whooshes past. Sorry buddy."
(note that every player in the combat will have a different THAC0, leading to the DM having to run this calculation with different numbers for every player)
Now, here's that same scenario in the "Attack bonus vs Armor Class" paradigm of 3rd edition onwards:
Player: "I swing my sword at the beast. I roll an 8, and my attack bonus is plus 9, so... 17?"
DM, who knows this thing has an armor class of 18: "Oooh, it comes close, but no dice. NEXT!"
Notice just how much more math the DM had to do in the second scenario. Poor guy.
2. Perhaps THAC0 would be fine if attack bonuses were static, but D&D is chock-full of buffing spells and effects. Players will often have multiple temporary bonuses to keep track of on top of their base attack bonus. The difficulty of keeping all of these bonuses in mind is a long-running joke amongst D&D players:
Now, compound the fun of cumulative bonuses with the framework of THAC0:
"This enemy has an Armor Class of 4, and my base THAC0 is 16, so I hit on a 12. Except that I have a magic longbow +2, which raises- I mean lowers it down to 10. I also have +1 to attack from the bard song, that lowers it again to 9. Wait, does that armor class include a shield? That's a bonus to missile attacks, so the base to-hit is 13 now, which goes down to 10... or is it 11? Oh shoot, I'm attacking from long range, so that's another -2, I guess I have to roll 13 then."
Not that the underlying math is particularly complex- it's all simple addition and subtraction, after all- but the more steps you add in, the more risk there is of something important being left at the wayside.
as an aside, the tendency for characters to stack up ridiculous bonuses was one of the driving forces behind 5th edition's concentration mechanic- there is a world of difference between a high level party who's had time to buff before a fight, and a party who hasn't. When you're DMing for said high-level group, you need to know what your players are capable of dealing with, and that can change drastically with what buffs are active. By limiting spellcasters to one concentration spell at a time, the DM has to deal with a lot less guesswork as to how strong the party is going to be today (and if the party is caught unawares, it takes them far less time to get up to full strength).
So, all that being said, what is the reason Lily gives for people disliking THAC0?
"The only reason people don't like THAC0 is because it means low THAC0 good, low saving throws good, low armor class good. What it doesn't mean is, big number go brrrr, right?" - Lily, during a BG1 stream (and many times before and after)
This argument might hold water against 3rd edition D&D, where attack and skill bonuses went up every level (and good saving throw bonuses went up every other level). It's not uncommon for a 6th level character to rock an attack bonus of +15 in 3rd edition, and that number will only continue to increase. It's worth mentioning that similar ridiculous bonuses were possible in 2nd edition; the numbers were just flipped in the other direction (which power gamers of the time were totally fine with, believe me)
However, Lily is making the "Big number go brrrr" argument against 5th edition D&D. You know, the one which famously curtails bonuses, such that you're lucky if you have a +15 to attack at level 20. 5th edition is the least "Big number go brrrr" edition of D&D to date.
Look, I'm not going to pretend that 5th edition (or any edition of D&D) is perfect; D&D is a game that has been organically developed through perpetual playtesting for 5 decades now. Every edition is full of flawed answers to the biggest problems of the edition prior; even THAC0 was a hasty revision of 1st edition AD&D's attack matrices. I also have no problem with Lily preferring 2nd edition over 5th. It's clear that the early Baldur's Gate games are a source of great joy for her.
But of course, Lily cannot simply enjoy 2nd edition, not when so many people are happily playing the wrong version of the game. No, she has to insist that 5th edition D&D is a fundamentally broken game in dire need of fixing, and in revealing her fixes... well, she's proven just how little experience she has with any version of Dungeons and Dragons.
It's not that hard to (from the perspective of someone who played a lot of AD&D in the day) in that first scenario, when you roll the 8, to just say "I git AC 3". You don't need any info past your own thac0, the roll and any bonuses you may have to give that info. The DM can then just give hit or miss based on that. That's how we did it, generally speaking.
That said. the shift to plus bonuses and looking for high numbers was much more intuitive.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thoroughly enjoying Lily revealing how little she knows about D&D in real time, but as someone who's played a bit of every numbered edition of D&D, I really need to address her misconceptions regarding 2nd Edition's attack metric, To Hit Armor Class Zero (THAC0, usually pronounced thack-oh)
(caution: old-school D&D autism ahead)
Here's the simple, straightforward explanation of how THAC0 works:
A given player character will have a set THAC0, which represents the score they need to roll on a d20 to successfully hit an enemy with an armor class of zero. To figure out what number you need to roll to hit a given defender, simply subtract the armor class of the defender from the attacker's THAC0.
Thus, to hit an armor class of 4, an attacker with THAC0 of 10 would need to roll (10 - 4) = 6. To hit an armor class of -2, that same attacker would need to roll (10 - [-2])= 12.
Perhaps you can already see some issues with this. Let's run through two of the most common:
1: The attacker doesn't always know the enemy's Armor Class; Oftentimes, to add suspense to an encounter, the DM will withhold an enemy's exact AC, instead choosing to tell the players only if their attack is a miss or a hit. This is especially important in scenarios where an enemy possesses unknown defenses, such as enchanted armor or a spell's protection.
Here's how a common to-hit scenario might occur with
THAC0:
Player: "I swing my sword at the beast. I roll... an 8!"
DM: "Okay, and your THAC0 is...?"
Player: "It's 11. Is that enough?"
DM: (Okay, so this thing has armor class of 2, so take 2 from 11 and we get 9, and he rolled...) "It was 8, right?"
Player: "No, 11"
DM: "I mean your roll"
Player: "Oh yeah, 8".
DM: "Cool. Your attack whooshes past. Sorry buddy."
(note that every player in the combat will have a different THAC0, leading to the DM having to run this calculation with different numbers for every player)
Now, here's that same scenario in the "Attack bonus vs Armor Class" paradigm of 3rd edition onwards:
Player: "I swing my sword at the beast. I roll an 8, and my attack bonus is plus 9, so... 17?"
DM, who knows this thing has an armor class of 18: "Oooh, it comes close, but no dice. NEXT!"
Notice just how much more math the DM had to do in the second scenario. Poor guy.
2. Perhaps THAC0 would be fine if attack bonuses were static, but D&D is chock-full of buffing spells and effects. Players will often have multiple temporary bonuses to keep track of on top of their base attack bonus. The difficulty of keeping all of these bonuses in mind is a long-running joke amongst D&D players:
Now, compound the fun of cumulative bonuses with the framework of THAC0:
"This enemy has an Armor Class of 4, and my base THAC0 is 16, so I hit on a 12. Except that I have a magic longbow +2, which raises- I mean lowers it down to 10. I also have +1 to attack from the bard song, that lowers it again to 9. Wait, does that armor class include a shield? That's a bonus to missile attacks, so the base to-hit is 13 now, which goes down to 10... or is it 11? Oh shoot, I'm attacking from long range, so that's another -2, I guess I have to roll 13 then."
Not that the underlying math is particularly complex- it's all simple addition and subtraction, after all- but the more steps you add in, the more risk there is of something important being left at the wayside.
as an aside, the tendency for characters to stack up ridiculous bonuses was one of the driving forces behind 5th edition's concentration mechanic- there is a world of difference between a high level party who's had time to buff before a fight, and a party who hasn't. When you're DMing for said high-level group, you need to know what your players are capable of dealing with, and that can change drastically with what buffs are active. By limiting spellcasters to one concentration spell at a time, the DM has to deal with a lot less guesswork as to how strong the party is going to be today (and if the party is caught unawares, it takes them far less time to get up to full strength).
So, all that being said, what is the reason Lily gives for people disliking THAC0?
"The only reason people don't like THAC0 is because it means low THAC0 good, low saving throws good, low armor class good. What it doesn't mean is, big number go brrrr, right?" - Lily, during a BG1 stream (and many times before and after)
This argument might hold water against 3rd edition D&D, where attack and skill bonuses went up every level (and good saving throw bonuses went up every other level). It's not uncommon for a 6th level character to rock an attack bonus of +15 in 3rd edition, and that number will only continue to increase. It's worth mentioning that similar ridiculous bonuses were possible in 2nd edition; the numbers were just flipped in the other direction (which power gamers of the time were totally fine with, believe me)
However, Lily is making the "Big number go brrrr" argument against 5th edition D&D. You know, the one which famously curtails bonuses, such that you're lucky if you have a +15 to attack at level 20. 5th edition is the least "Big number go brrrr" edition of D&D to date.
Look, I'm not going to pretend that 5th edition (or any edition of D&D) is perfect; D&D is a game that has been organically developed through perpetual playtesting for 5 decades now. Every edition is full of flawed answers to the biggest problems of the edition prior; even THAC0 was a hasty revision of 1st edition AD&D's attack matrices. I also have no problem with Lily preferring 2nd edition over 5th. It's clear that the early Baldur's Gate games are a source of great joy for her.
But of course, Lily cannot simply enjoy 2nd edition, not when so many people are happily playing the wrong version of the game. No, she has to insist that 5th edition D&D is a fundamentally broken game in dire need of fixing, and in revealing her fixes... well, she's proven just how little experience she has with any version of Dungeons and Dragons.
So in the past I've highlighted how Lily Orchard has no actual D&D experience; how everything she knows comes from the early Baldur's Gate games. I've never really gone into the specifics of why that matters, though. It feels like a disservice to assume that it's self evident; after all, the people most likely to eat up Lily's D&D takes are those who don't have much D&D experience themselves. With that in mind, let's talk about why Baldur's Gate 1 and 2 are bad substitutes for D&D.
Of course, there's all the social elements; BG1/2 are single player experiences, D&D is a collaborative game. BG1/2 are pre-set adventures with strict resolutions to every conflict, while D&D puzzles are invariably more freeform in their solutions. BG1/2 lets you save your game before tricky fights, meaning even the riskiest fight isn't half as devastating as the same fight would be in a tabletop game.
I could go on, but today we're going to focus on something else entirely. Today, we're looking at one of the ways BG1/2 completely misrepresents its progenitor game, and it's something that comes up before you even start your quest:
Baldur's Gate is lying to you
(at least, about how it generates your ability scores)
So, cliff notes; when you play D&D, you make a character, and that character is defined by their race (or heritage, in newer editions), their class (or classes), and their ability scores. Ability scores can be generated in a number of ways, but Lily prefers the harshest method; 3d6 in order.
Why? According to her, it reduces minmaxing. Most likely she prefers it because that's how Baldur's Gate generates abilities:
Excerpt from the Baldur's Gate game manual
Or at least, that's how the manual says abilities are generated. If that were true, then I wouldn't be making this post, but before that, let's run through the obvious caveats:
The Ability Score page in Baldur's Gate Enhanced Edition
You can reroll your stats as many times as you like without penalty. Each reroll takes only the click of a button, so you can go through hundreds of randomly generated stats in the span of a minute, before settling on ones you like.
Secondly, you can trade points between ability scores on a one-for-one basis. Did you roll two 13s? Why not make that an 18 and an 8 instead?
I should mention at this point that ability scores in 2nd edition AD&D only give bonuses and penalties if they're very high, or very low. Most scores will only provide bonuses to attack rolls, armor class and hit points if they're 15 or higher, and likewise you won't suffer any penalties to scores unless they're 7 or lower.
For 99% of cases, these two characters would be functionally identical. In other words:
Baldur's Gate's game design passively encourages you to create a character with stats like these.
These opportunities are not afforded to someone creating an AD&D character in the traditional way. Perhaps a generous DM would allow a player to reroll a character with truly abysmal stats, but the idea of trading points in ability scores, one-for-one? Well, that's suspiciously similar to Point Buy, the method that Lily opposes.
Now, let's go back to the manual's original claim, that ability scores are generated by rolling 3d6 in order. How can we interrogate this claim?
For this, dear reader, I'd like you to join me in a little experiment.
Let's make some D&D characters.
Grab three six-sided dice if you have them (If you only have one, that's fine). Roll them, note down what you got, and the total between them. Do this six times, then combine all of your totals to get a combined score (you're effectively rolling 18 dice altogether)
(Hey Hearts? You only have to do this once~)
Now, I'd like to make some assumptions about what you just rolled;
Your highest score is no higher than 15 (this will be true for 75% of you)
Your second-highest is no higher than 13 (75%)
Your lowest score is no higher than 7 (65%)
Your second-lowest score is no higher than 9 (72%)
If thirty six people do this experiment with me, then one of you will roll an 18 (and one of you will roll a 3). Half of you (myself included) won't even manage to get a high score above 14; the characters you generate wouldn't even qualify for the most basic bonuses under AD&D 2nd edition rules.
As for the total number rolled between all 18 dice, it will vary a lot between you, but your totals will average out to somewhere around 63. For every person who rolled higher, there will also be a person who rolled lower. One in twenty participants will be stuck with a total below 52, and one in twenty will manage a total at or above 75. That's basic statistics for ya~
Now, let's go back to Baldur's Gate. I'm going to click the "reroll" button a bunch of times. See if you don't notice a pattern.
No matter how many times we click "reroll", we can never generate a set of scores with a total lower than 75. This is deliberately coded into the character creator; despite the average roll of 18d6 being 63. In other words, the weakest Baldur's Gate PC is already stronger than 95% of AD&D 2nd edition PCs.
If your only experience with AD&D 2nd edition is through Baldur's Gate, then your perceptions of average character strength are going to be incredibly skewed. In Lily's case, it means that she looks at the following ability scores, and thinks they're unplayably bad...
... when in truth, these ability scores come straight from the 2nd edition player's handbook
Have you really played this game, Lily?
A couple of post-scripts:
you could argue that the BG is only partly dishonest about how abilities are generated; it technically uses the 3d6-in-order method, it just quietly discards any result that would give the player ability scores below 75. The output is very similar to that of an 18d6 bell curve, with any result below 75 chopped off- your odds of getting a total of 80 in the character creator (0.35% on a normal 18d6) are about half that of getting 78 (0.67% on 18d6) and one third that of getting 76 (1.12% on 18d6)
Yonks ago, Lily suggested the following:
If you were to take Lily's advice while using the 3d6-in-order method, then 48% of all characters would be functionally crippled in two different ability scores. 18% would be crippled in three. You can't push players to have balanced abilities while using 3d6-in-order; they have no control over the abilities they roll!
When discussing characters with bad ability scores, Lily specifically highlights the character Anomen:
With combined ability scores of 79, Anomen is stronger than 99.5% of all AD&D 2nd edition characters.
In Lily's recent video on Ghibli films, she refers to My Neighbours the Yamadas as a Dom Com, a subtype of Situational Comedy (ie Sitcom) based around family or household life. While not as common a term as Sitcom, Dom Com is nonetheless a perfectly reasonable and established name for a common setup in film and TV.
It is not a BDSM term, aside from being used as the title of an unrelated romance novel, published in January of this year.
So if you were to, say, stream yourself reacting to Lily's Ghibli video in order to guffaw at it, perhaps you shouldn't rely on Google AI to tell you the meaning of words you don't understand.
