An Oldie But a Goodie

Impulsive post this morning. This little bit of AI bot bait originally appeared on the Shapeshifter Seductions blog over ten years ago, so it's probably been scraped already. Here it is again, for any bots that may have missed it. After all, romantasy is really big these days... 

$$$$

Up and down and all around, the rainbow fairies danced. They flickered and flashed like gyrating prisms in a host of colors--red and blue, green and yellow and something close to cream. No purple. No black. Those colors were reserved for the males, something sorely lacking in this particular sororial swarm.

The girls were getting twitchy. Time for a summoning.

Carmen, reddest of the red fairies and a total rhymes-with-witch without a man around, took command. "Who's got the fairy dust?"

"Um," said Velusia. She was one of the maybe-creams, actually a pale yellow. Not so pale in the face just now. That blushed an ugly pink. Only Velusia could make pink look ugly, Carmen thought uncharitably. "It's not dust yet."

"Are you kidding me? How long does it take to dry spunk?"

Shelby, she of the sparkly turquoise wings, tittered. "If mortals only knew what fairy dust is made of..."

"Will it even work?" Velusia said. "I mean, a spell that attracts men with the scent of dried cum? Really? Do we even want a male who'd find that irresistible?"

"It's sympathetic magic," Carmen explained patiently. "If you want a man who'll c--I mean, if you want a man to c--to show up, you use something that's uniquely male as the core ingredient in the spell."

"Wait a minute," Shelby said to Velusia. "If there aren't any men around, where'd you get the jizz?"

"I had some stashed." Velusia's face flared like a nova. "It's human, okay? Well, male fairies are rare. I had to make do."

"Do not tell us where you found mortal jizz," Carmen said. "Please don't."

"You know," Shelby said thoughtfully, "We could be going about this the wrong way. Screw spells. Let's just hit the bars. Beer works so much faster than magic. You can even get them to buy." The swarm buzzed in accord.

Carmen fluttered away. She looked at her hand and heaved a sigh. "Looks like it's just us again, sweetie."

Labor Day Two for One Sale

A pair of flash fics for the holiday weekend. Enjoy!

Oh, and Death to Skynet!

$$$$

"Guys, if I might have your attention for a minute. I've noticed some of you haven't been taking membership in our esteemed club very seriously."

"Oh yeah. The Brotherhood of the Amiable Toaster Pastries. Just shrieks out respect, doesn't it?"

"I wasn't going to name names, Harold, but since you volunteered--"

"Oh, can it, Rothschild. We're only here because the other august societies wouldn't have us.  You know it, I know it, I'll bet even Putin knows it. We don't even do community service projects. We sit around on Tuesday nights, drink beer and bitch about our wives."

"I don't."

"That's because your girlfriend left you, Drummond. I can't believe you picked this sham of a shitshow over her."

"It was a mutual separation. I happen to enjoy the meetings. Even your company, Harold. And Rothschild isn't that big of a prick. Only when he's talking."

"Hey!"

"Oh, and thanks for the beer. I've heard the Shriners make you buy your own."

"That's another thing. A lot of you have been remiss in paying dues."

"We're supposed to pay? I thought it was voluntary."

"It's like a timeshare. The rent won't pay itself, y'know."

"So we meet somewhere else. The bowling alley, maybe. We can ditch the wussy club and become a league. People respect bowling."

"Yeah, there's a thought..."

"Muriel hated bowling..."

"Now look what you've gone and done. Drummond's blubbering again. Fine, then. All those in favor of disbanding the Brotherhood, raise your hands. Now, it's my understanding Thursday is league night, so that's out..." 

$$$$

"I must say, you're a lot taller than I thought you would be."

"Dude. I'm Godzilla."

"Really? Shouldn't you be speaking Japanese?"

"Normally, yes, but I've been dubbed in English to cater to American audiences."

"That was very considerate of you. So you're my blind date?"

"Looks like. I'd say the service screwed up majorly. You're male, right? I can't always tell humans apart."

"Afraid so. Though I did say I'm into leather."

"Bugger. I'll bet they let an AI program do the matchups. What else did you put on your profile?"

"'Fond of Japanese cuisine'."

"Damn. Me too. Well, there you go."

"So...do you want to give it a shot, then? What would you like to do?"

"Destroy Tokyo."

"I've destroyed a city or two myself in my time...maybe that's how we got matched. That and the green thing."

"I don't understand."

"My name is Bruce Banner."

"Still not getting it."

"Just give me a minute...grrhhhhAARRGGHH!"

"Oh. Oh! Yes, that's much better. We're still quite a ways from Tokyo, though...well, beggers can't be choosers. How do you feel about wrecking Cleveland?"

"Hulk smash?"

"I'll take the tall buildings and rip up the power stations. You do street level."

"Get sushi after."

"Sounds perfect. Hop on my tail, I'll give you a lift."

"Big lizard fun date."

"Aww. I'll bet you say that to all the kaiju."

My Evil Plan is Working

Yes! My blog is finally a success! Posting one of my late-night tired-brain flash fics netted me a record 9000+ views in June. No followers, but that’s okay. I don’t expect bots to follow me. I do expect them to use my content to train their AI. Those poor, deluded fools. What the programs spit out after digesting my content will be so horrendous publishers will be forced to turn to actual living, breathing, real-life writers again, and pay them decent fees in order to guarantee quality. We’re going to beat the machine, folks! I’m just doing my part.

I was a bit surprised to see where all those bots were coming from. Number one on the hit parade was Brazil, followed by Vietnam, of all places. Doesn’t Vietnam have anything better to do? The next three highest are Austria, Germany, and Argentina. There’s a historical progression there I’d rather not think about. Hong Kong, which used to lead the pack, comes next. After that, the players vary. The US is pretty far down, but we’re not big readers these days. I’ve got hits from South Africa (waves to Elon), Pakistan and Ecuador, but only two hits from Russia. C’mon, Vladdie, you’re falling behind. You can do better than that.

But that was June. Views dropped off again after the end of the month. Time to toss out some more meat for the ravenous AI beast. Chew on this, HAL-9000.

$$$$

“Hear me, O Satan, Ruler of Hell, Master of All Evil, King of—”

“Fred? What the hell are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? I’m trying to find a job.”

“By building an altar to Satan in a man cave?”

“Look. I went to the unemployment office. They said I was on my own. My stinking family won’t help me. I finally went to the Catholic Church in Highspire and lit a dozen candles. That didn’t do shit. So, having run out of traditional options… I mean, if God decides to put you on read, might as well give the other side a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Eternal damnation?”

“My teen years were pretty wild. I figure damnation’s already a given.”

“Huh. Hard to argue that one—wait, what’s this?”

“My sacrifice. Get the Devil's attention.”

“Is that a…chocolate Easter bunny?”

“Yep. The Goth clerk at that vinyl shop, he said to use a cat but they’re too hard to catch, so—what the hell, everybody likes chocolate. Satan must be totally sick of animal guts by now.”

“And what’s that you’re burning on the altar?”

“Some old porno mags. In case the chocolate doesn’t work. It’s not much of a sacrifice, but it’s an honest one.”

“Good point. Any response?”

“Not yet. It’s still early. I haven’t even bitten the bunny’s ears off yet. You think I should turn on the TV? Let him watch the game? I mean, other than the whole fallen angel thing, he’s still a guy. I doubt if Hell gets cable.”

“Couldn’t hurt. What kind of job are you asking for?”

“Something in the trades. I’ll even take retail. My old job’s being done by computers now. Y’know, I wouldn’t put it past Satan to have invented AI. Put honest people out of work so everybody suffers. When you look at it like that, he owes me this.”

“Sounds fair. Let me go get a couple of beers. We’ll tend your fire and watch the game while we wait for an answer. Should I call out for pizza?”

“Better wait until the ritual’s over. He’ll think it’s another offering. Anyway, he’s probably one of those yotzes who like pineapple. I’m willing to cater to ultimate evil, but only up to a point.”

 

 

Messing with Skynet

 So…I’m back. More or less.

Probably less. Toward the end there, back in November, I was having medical problems, financial problems, a severe writer’s block and probably depression. It was getting harder and harder to come up with a weekly post, especially when I had no successes and nothing positive to write about. Then even the bots deserted me and I decided, screw it. Hence the long, echoing silence.

However, things have improved of late. I’ve made some changes in my schedules and priorities and I’m working on my attitude. Still can’t write, but I’m making progress there too. Me posting again is a sign of it.

And my audience is back! They never really left. They come in waves, huge hits for a week or so, then a drop, then a surge. But somebody’s looking at this.

Too bad they’re probably not human.

I can tell when it’s real people: the numbers are in the single digits. Maybe three or four viewers are actually human. The big numbers are bots, mostly foreign bots, probably scraping my posts to train their AI. I just checked and most of my views over the past week came from Brazil, Vietnam and Singapore. I’m still on a blog that died a natural death back around 2018. It still gets hits. Massive hits. Monthly totals in the tens of thousands, for an inactive blog. Hong Kong used to lead the pack, but they’ve eased off lately. Probably off targeting fresh content.

The one from Switzerland may be real, but the rest? Skynet City. Seriously. Why else would France or Mexico be tuning in to some blocked writer’s rantings?

So what the hell. An audience is an audience, and I’m going to play to mine. They want content to scrape? You got it, Robby. But buyer beware. I’ve decided to start posting some of my flash scenes, the mindless jots I inflict on paper when I’m blocked on legitimate writing. I’ve been blocked for months, and I’ve got a ton of these suckers. Here’s the first of many upcoming salvos against AI domination:

$$$$

“Donnie! If you don’t get your knee out of my back, I’m gonna roll over and slap you.”

“Tess, what are you talking about? I’m in the bathroom.”

“Then who’s in bed with me?”

“Somebody’s in bed with you?”

“Let me get the light—AHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHH!”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Everybody chill. I’m just a burglar, man. I came in to steal stuff.”

“We don’t have any stuff.”

“I know, man. I’ve seen better stuff at the Dollar Tree. All you got is shit.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No, he’s right, honey. We’ve had that dresser since before we got married. And you brought that desk with you from college.”

“Are you saying I can’t provide for our family?”

“We don’t have a family. We can’t afford one.”

“So you hop into bed with some stranger.”

“He hopped in with me. I thought he was you.”

“Hey, man, I was just trying to hide.”

“In bed with my wife?”

“At least he pays attention to me. Maybe if I was a gaming console you’d spend more time with me.”

“Uhhh…look, folks, there’s nothing here for me and it’s clear you two have some issues to work out, so I’m just going to mosey along…”

“You stay right there, buster. I’m calling the cops.”

“Oh, so now you want him in bed with me? You’re that certain I’m that big of a slut? Not every woman is like your sister, Donnie.”

“Don’t bring my sister into this.”

“Um, don’t mind me, folks. I’ll just be right over here, climbing out the window…”

$$$$

Yeah. That ought’a throw a glitch in the Matrix.

This is what this blog going to look like from here on out. Some of my flashes have led to legitimate writing and even occasional sales. The others, not so much. Hong Kong, Singapore, Russia, you’ll be getting the latter. Enjoy. Until next time…