FoxQuirk 🦊 @quirk@computerfairi.es

dj depression advantage

i must have embedded it deep in my life so i compulsively deleted them all on my birthday!

one of the most terrible things about capitalism is how powerless it makes us feel. we have no power. we individually cannot do anything.

but this is why its important to look backwards and see whats worked. boycotts largely dont work now-a-days because corporations have taken such leaps and bounds in their power and exploitation. a few companies own the huge majority of products. boycotting one thing wont work because the company that owns it also owns everything else.

the only thing we can do when we see these boycotts fail is not to expect them to change; they will only change a little, and only to save bank. we have to pass laws. or we can make revolution. whichever you prefer. but revoking rights from these corporations is truly the only way to actually change anything. and scapegoating the issue with "oh well if the oppressed just didnt live in a society" is just victim blaming. pointing fingers at everyone who owns an iphone has never worked. and wont get apple to shut down.

None executive function with left depression

Other girls: make absolutely amazing electronics projects

Me: makes this monstrosity

I'd also like to remind you of this thing I made a few months ago

Other girls' bathrooms: Toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, maybe makeup

My bathroom: Circuit boards, soldering equipment, anti-static wristbands, personal protective equipment

man it's absolutely astounding how capitalism has made the means of subsistence so advanced that so few people actually need to be involved in the basic work of meeting human needs like producing food, compared to even just a hundred years ago.

and then we take all of the labor power freed from that and instead of like, reducing the workweek, or investing it in education or science or art, we invented bullshit industries like advertising to keep everyone working but make sure society doesn't get better

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@Pyretta ❤️ 🦇

it was barely even a hack, really. she was just passing through and dropped in to say hi. she regretted that she couldn't stay longer.

you work out later that she must have noticed your gaming PC was unlocked while you were in the bathroom, dropped a DLL into the game's folder in %AppData% that redirected a slowly increasing percentage of texture loads.

you're headset on and half an hour in when you first wonder what she's up to. usually this game's a good way to clear your head: a mild workout, a repetitive core loop. you're distracted enough by what she might be doing in her little apartment right now, a city away, what expression is on her face, whether she's thinking of you, that your concentration slips and you take a hit. damn. you had a good combo going.

between levels, in the hub, you see her face on a poster. well, someone that looks like her. probably stock art. you should take a screenshot. you flick a joystick and teleport over and it's gone, replaced by a higher level of detail. just seeing what you hoped to see, perhaps.

you're halfway through a difficult section, waiting for a cooldown, when you see her. absolutely for sure. she's slightly sideways and stretched as an impact decal across a wall, but that's her. you know those square frames, those glittering eyes, that smug smile. did she work on this game? she never said. this time, you take a screenshot.

and then a storm of particle-effect-heavy enemy weapons fire detonates over your head. their shrapnel is hundreds of replicas of her face, billboarded, facing you, still facing as you move again, and then they fade. you bring up a weapon to respond, on reflex, and its ammo counter is an orange version of her; you fire, and she's gone again.

you keep playing. you don't usually get this far. you might break a personal record before you text her to say, haha, good one, you got me. you dodge, you weave, you counterattack, as more and more surfaces are replaced with her. she's everywhere. on your blade. in the clouds. warped across the surface of enemy mechs.

you can't handle it any more. every texture is her, walls and floor and units and explosions all blurring together, inferable only by where there are seams between her, ripples across the face of her regard. you're suddenly, briefly, short of breath.

you kneel, dropping to a real floor jarringly just short of the virtual floor. you let the controllers slip from your grasp and jam your hands down your pants. the headset still shows you the game world, a churning kaleidoscope of her, everywhere.

you finish hard, panting, alone in your living room, underwear slick with fluids, headset still tying you to your gaming rig, a tether to her will. your body shakes.

an unclear moment later, you shrug the headset off. you're sweaty, your eyes are a little twitchy, you must look a mess, but the only thing you want to do now is grab your phone. you open the chat client, thumbs tapping out what you feel is an eloquent complaint, or a greeting, or a declaration of surrender:

HEY <

> so you found it? :3

… yes. <

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