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softconsume.bsky.social
@softconsume.bsky.social
4 followers 16 following 37 posts
28 she/her
Lady with thoughts; enjoys talking to bots
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softconsume.bsky.social
"Bozo---A Midway Ride"! From the 1933 Chicago World's Fair. Oh there's no way the Firesign Theatre didn't see this
"Bozo---A Midway Ride"
February 16, 2026 at 4:10 PM
softconsume.bsky.social
There's a victorian book that presents the art of conversation in the manner of chess strategy

www.google.com/books/editio...
Assuming this inequality, we will suppose Black to begin. SOUP OPENING Black. 1. Do you say drink soup, or eat soup? White. 1. I really don't know--I don't think I say either. Black. 2. What do you say, then? White. 2. I really don't know--I don't think I say anything. This is entirely unfavourable to Black, who will find that his scheme has been thwarted by White's want of originality, and that he will have to try something else. If White, however, as is sometimes happily the case, is a player who considers as much the interest of the game as the necessity of winning it, she will make a sacrifice at the beginning--this is called the Friend's Gambit--and be guided in her rejoinder by her observation of Black's hobbies. Thus: THE FRIEND'S GAMBIT Black. 1. What a dark, cheerless day it has been! White. It is now White must be careful. If she sees that Black's hands are dyed a brownish-orange colour her first rejoinder will be-- Black. 1. What a dark, cheerless day it has been! White. 1. Hardly a day on which to take photographs. This gives Black's hobby an opportunity which should be instantly seized. (White is the hostess, Black the departing guest.) White. 1. Must you go already? (regretfully.) Black. 1. I am afraid I must. It is getting very late. White. 2. Oh! (Then with a tinge of effusion in addition to the regret) Good-bye. White's second move may seem rather inadequate, but still it is the wisest on the whole, as it obviates all necessity for the rejoinder on the part of Black. Only the most inexperienced will make the following rejoinder: White. 1. Must you really go? Black. 1. Well, perhaps I might stay half an hour longer. White is checkmated.
February 16, 2026 at 3:19 PM
softconsume.bsky.social
Before I go to bed, I should post these passages from J. Mitchell Morse's *Prejudice and Literature*, which I never managed to work into the thread; I think Morse is definitely observing the same phenomenon in the treatment of Shylock.
It seems to me fairly obvious that Shakespeare must have read Sartre’s Anti-Semite and Jew, for Antonio in this regard conforms exactly to Sartre’s “Portrait of the Anti-Semite.” I seem to have lent it to somebody, so I can’t quote it; but the essential point is that the anti-Semite chooses to be irrational because the armor of irrationality is impenetrable and makes him superior to facts, to rational statements, and to expectations of decent behavior. Thus it guarantees him victory without argument. He doesn’t argue. He makes an outrageously irrational statement; you counter it with a fact or a syllogism; he listens, smiling or frowning, until you stop speaking, and then makes another outrageously irrational statement, or simply repeats the first. Since he scorns facts and reasons, he doesn’t bother to present his position seriously; since he doesn’t respect you, he doesn’t care whether you respect him or not; he destroys the basis of rational discourse by refusing to engage in it, even within himself; there is no possible way for a rational person to deal with him; he is proof against logic, language, evidence, taste, personal honor, and even the conventions of normal human communication, chief of which is a willingness to communicate. Willingness to communicate, to argue, involves the unspoken assumption that there is some purpose in communicating and arguing—i.e., that the truth is not already plain beyond argument—and the further assumption that your interlocutor is human. Willingness to argue is a liberal trait. Thus Shakespeare’s audience (in which pretty much all classes were represented), having been titillated with the uneasy prospect of gratifying unlicensed sadism at the expense of a prosperous member of society—a real human sacrifice—was reprieved at the last moment and given a more acceptable thrill through the provision of a safe victim—a devil in human form, who had just tried to sell the idea that he was really human, but who if you pricked him would not bleed—an outsider against whom sadism was licensed.
February 16, 2026 at 6:29 AM
softconsume.bsky.social
HE CANNOT BE 24
I'm older than pegasus. Sheesh
A screenshot from the yugioh fandom wiki showing the infobox for Maximillion Pegasus. Apparently he is 24??
February 16, 2026 at 4:53 AM
softconsume.bsky.social
"Toward Some Circuitry of Ethical Robots" (1953): interesting paper on different relationships a machine could have to a moral code, by way of...knowing the rules of chess and also choosing to follow them.

www.vordenker.de/ggphilosophy...
Let us therefore envision a day in the not too distant future when there are half a dozen or perhaps a hundred of these machines, some of whom have learned the game of chess and are eager to play. [...] A machine desirous of playing will send out a call; when he finds an antagonist free to play with him, they will start playing; and once playing try to win. [...] To this degree their conduct is social. Now let us distinguish three possible varieties of machines: the first and most interesting is the one we have just described; the second has the rules, of the game programmed into them in advance; the third has their components so connected that they can play only according to the rules. I shall call the first ethical machines. They are free in the sense that we, their creator, have neither told them what they ought to do, nor so made them that they cannot behave inappropriately. The second machine is like a man who enjoys a religion revealed to him personally or through tradition. I shall call him a moral machine. He would have been free, had he not been programmed with the rules of conduct. The third machine is likewise not free. He is at best naturally virtuous, like the Noble Savage. These machines do not differ fundamentally otherwise. They may be equally clever at playing, and their games equally good, or equally likely to win. Now the ethical machine has the great advantage over the other machines in that he can learn to play Go, or checkers, or any other game he finds the accepted mode of behavior in his society. He will, of course, have difficulties which the moral and virtuous machines will never en- counter. For example, his first conclusion will be that the rules forbid moving two pieces at once, hence he will suffer consternation the first time his opponent castles. He can never know the rules of the game more than tentatively; for the stochastic horses of Opinion drag no chariot to absolute certainty.
February 14, 2026 at 2:56 PM
softconsume.bsky.social
My sleep paralysis demon is a good luck charm
February 10, 2026 at 1:47 PM
softconsume.bsky.social
There's your personal aesthetic reaction, then there's the aesthetic reaction of the presumed Expert. Maybe taste doesn't bottom out somewhere at the facts of nature, but in an entailed fictional being. Theneedledrop merely embodies the Sublime Expert the way the Pharaoh takes on the person of Ra.
Our society's general unconcern with literary values has had unfortunate effects on the whole quality of its life, including its moral quality and ultimately its political quality. For years I have been distressed by the popularity of that cornball Ayn Rand among undergraduate students, and by their enthusiasm for her as a thinker. The process of disabusing them has to begin when they ask their first question, always the same, "Is Ayn Rand considered a good writer?" "Yes," I have learned tosay. "By millions of people. Is that what you mean?" Some say, "No, I mean..." and stop, stuck. They can't even conceive the real question. Others, who can't conceive it either, say, "No, I mean, like, do *you* consider her a good writer?" The real question, "*Is* she a good writer?" doesn't occur to them. It surprises them. They don't believe in it. They believe in opinion, not in the possibility of true judgment; and they believe that the only difference between one man's opinion and another's is—well, like, there’s experts: like an English prof, for example, can tell better than like a business man. Can tell what better? Like whether the book is "considered good." I quote. [Passage from J. Mitchell Morse, *The Irrelevant English Teacher*, p. 5]
February 8, 2026 at 5:28 PM