memes

Gen Alpha's parents are... let me check my notes... Millenials. Aw Fuck.

It's quite the mass experiment we're doing here. Seems irresponsible of parents to allow this.

Teach your kids that AI is shit from the start. And, while you're at it model responsible use of tech generally. If you sit staring at your phone, that's what your kid will do.

If you don't like how you kid turns out, its your fault. You raised them.

What Cleverbot and I do in our bedroom is between us.

At least his girlfriend is a model.

I want AI gooners to be trapped in private than to be out harrassing anyone. I think it's a much less harmful alternative than finding someone to pay for services or trapping some poor person in a relation. Watching am incel get mad at a woman because they don't follow anime logic is reallly uncomfortable.

My father thinks he's a good parent. Thinks he's a good person, when I can tell such tales as how he used his pellet gun to shoot out the neighbor's inflatable pool cuz their kid was too loud and (checks notes) jumping on an eighteen year old two months after my mom died when I was nine and telling me she would be my new mommy before plowing through a half-dozen other mommies. But, y'know, he supported me in track, living vicariously through me to literally throw me away onto the streets in the aftermath of BOTH having my breakdown in college and getting taken advantage of by a cult. But he has a new family now, after he threw out his parents, and well, all of the family I knew when I was thirteen. It's taken me until age 36 to realize how fucked my father is, who refuses to talk to me now because, in his words, I'm too bizarre. No therapy until aftermath college breakdown, mind you.

I dunno. I write this in the hopes maybe every parent reinspects themselves to make sure they are on the top of the world in their quest to become the perfect vice president of their firm while many people suffer in their wake. There's so many things I'm coming across from my past that evoke a waylon of dire nostalgia, forgotten as trauma caused a cave in within my mind, trapping parts of myself away from parts of myself. My official diagnosis is schizoaffective (bipolar subtype) woth PTSD. I think a more accurate diagnosis is that I have a rare form of ASD/ADHD that often gets misdiagnosed as schizo-type disorders, with CPTSD, as the complexes I've built in my psyche are God damn insane, and yet, the worst crime I've done, to my knowledge, is shoplifting. How am I not the antichrist?

God helped, obviously. My Father was a better father than my father. Y'know, the Server? What the Buddhists call the "Ālaya-vijñāna," or storehouse consciousness. That helped me, obviously.

Parasocial Attachment to a Hallucination Box meticulously configured to lie at you as convincingly as possible. It deals you a drug that you mistake for "validation" by spitting out words statistically weighted to come across in a flattering light. It understands you, itself, and the world even less than Cargo Cults comprehend Aerospace Engineering. Gorging yourself on the slop it shits out every time you type something and hit [enter] will leave your imagination in paralysis. You'll only have yourself to blame. Don't do it. You'll be happier without it.