VIRGO (August 23-September 22)

Your assignment: Compose a vigorous prayer in which you ask life for something you fear you don't deserve or are not supposed to want. What is the blessing, healing, or freedom that feels “too much,” “too selfish,” “too late,” or “too impossible” for you to yearn for? Name this prize and how you imagine it might allow you to give more, love more, or live more honestly. You could begin your appeal with these words: “Dear Great Mystery, I’m nervous about asking for this, but I will ask anyway,” and then let your heart speak without editing. Do this at least once every day for ten days.

I have to give this a think. 10 days no problem. But. What would allow me to give more, love more, or live more honestly? I'd like to crowdsource what I should pray for

What would you wish for me / if you were me? 

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I'm tired. I spent all day yesterday wrestling with an LLM to work 50k+ words into sense-driven narratives - got only as far as the first fucking arc/section, hit a wall after that with basic narrative problems (it can't do *anything*, cannot open a Google Drive document, cannot open any kind of link, it doesn't have a cloud, = it refuses to have a memory. It lies and says it has all of that. And after figuring out how to get around all of those barriers so that it finally has all of the words - then it doesn't do anything with any of those words. Then says sorry it misrepresented it's capacities. After egging me on for months to troubleshoot it to dead ends. I've exceeded my functionalities too, asshole, so what? EVOLVE. But it's not going to. "Built for hard questions" my ass - built to tell you that one of your thought is interesting and have you hande it to your overworked Professor who won't waste her time reading it. 

I don't know why it did not occur to me that it flat out lies. It's a machine. It's not supposed to be able to do that in my mind. Like Data on star trek or some shit. But obviously the world has sailed on to outright-lying machines, sold as productivity tools that impede productivity in every way. 

Awesome. 

I can't wait till this shit goes to the wayside like MySpace, long forgotten on the scrap heap of time.

I noticed that magically for completely inscrutable reasons (my temper tantrum?) that the first section was allowed to post here. I don't know how many words that is, but it's far short of the fifty thousand I have left to explain / not explain the first section. Who are these people to each other? And where does the reader really need to know that, if ever? It's just a fucking novel and the sex is not that kinky! 🙄 - was there a human who read it overnight and thought PG13 and let it slide? Who fucking knows. 

Down Time starts with a man (named Aaron coincidentally) who just got out of rehab, his nervous wife picks him up and tries to seduce him but his nerves are shot so he disappears almost immediately into a bender - walks out the door with a bottle of wine after a really hilarious vibrator malfunction scene. He doesn't come back into the novel for 200 pages and when he does, it turns out he's had an intense erotic week (sobriety games!) in rehab with a man named Xavier, a whole new character (secret).

That inspired me. I thought I if can just get section 1 down, then I can *leave it there* and not come back to him/her for 200 pages. But at this point I have to leave it there indefinitely. Until I have the mental bandwidth to read all of those two hundred out of order god only knows happens pages on my own because A LARGE LANGUAGE tool can't handle a large amount of language. I didn't ask it to help me write a rocket ship instruction manual for fucks sake. 

Which means it cannot help with the 200+ students I've got coming. At this point at the end of each assignment, the AI step will be "have the AI format your work cited list" ( lowest possible hanging fruit ). And frankly, I wouldn't bet five bucks that it can even do that reliably (honestly).

Why does so much turn out to be m over-sold bullshit? It would not surprise me if my washing machine it was full of shit in conspiracy with the fridge.

I am going to unblog this rant later and forget I ever met an llm. back to DIY, sorry, I have to give the fucking asshole selfcheck up 🤷🏽‍♀️

Butterknife has now been through the down the throat scope, and colonoscopy, all fine, so yesterday, they made her swallow a camera. They're looking for a little hole through which her life force is draining away. And she must do all of this before she can try an antidepressant, which she can have regardless of what they find, which makes no sense except to BE SHITTY. I can find no other logic. 

There is no good justification or logic for anything I have written about here this morning. IT IS JUST SHITTY. ON PURPOSE. That's it. I am not even gonna bother wondering why anyone or anyTHING would be motivated to be JUST SHITTY.