HalfAngelHavoc

Thirteen 'Sonas In A Trenchcoat

28 | Half-angel And More[tm] | ace+aro? | icon by Frogbians!


Foxtrot68
@Foxtrot68

This is a certified Code Spaghetti™ moment, right? I don't like being that person who shits on Bethesda for being bad at making games but seeing modders who understand the inner workings of the thing bring this up as an issue on the official discord bug reporting channels makes me confident this is a fuck-up on a scale that's just.. hilarious to think about. Their given "solution" was to just NG+ to fix it, which yeah it's kind of like saying "just reset your game and lose your progress so it starts working again". And like they said, it's just gonna happen again over time.

I can't believe this is a thing that's happening to essentially everyone on every platform without them ever knowing it. This could explain my constant crashing back when I was in NG+1. I played for too long and the game wasn't designed for that despite it being... designed so you can explore to your heart's content. I just did NG+2 so my ~321 hours save has just been reset but wow. The game doesn't recycle IDs for stuff so it just sort of runs out eventually and chokes on itself. I feel a bug like this could even be reported on by games journalists for being so funny but then Starfield "flopped" by AAA games standards so I have no idea if this is a widely known thing or not and the general public probably doesn't care. I care about this messy game, would be nice if they could fix this one sooner rather than later so people who are actually putting in the time and trying to enjoy the game don't get screwed over and have their hundreds of hours go to waste because a save gets corrupted. incredible stuff.

screenshot source.



Suddenly I find myself kinda missing my slimebun 'sona, not as in "I don't want to be a half-angel anymore" (far from it) but "ah man I'm realizing there's untapped aesthetic potential for this 'sona and I really badly want to tap into it". Not that I have the artistic talent to do that myself (I know, I know, do it scared, but I want it to look nice) or the money to chuck at artist friends to say "Make This"...

...The slimebun deserves some extra tooniness and a worryingly big hammer, basically.



fwankie
@fwankie

You know they say that all men are created equal, but you look at me and you look at Samoa Joe and you can see that statement is not true. See, normally if you go one on one with another wrestler, you got a 50/50 chance of winning.
But I'm a genetic freak and I'm not normal! So you got a 25%, AT BEST, at beat me. Then you add Kurt Angle to the mix, your chances of winning drastic go down. See the 3 way at Sacrifice, you got a 33 1/3 chance of winning, but I, I got a 66 and 2/3 chance of winning, because Kurt Angle KNOWS he can't beat me and he's not even gonna try!
So Samoa Joe, you take your 33 1/3 chance, minus my 25% chance and you got an 8 1/3 chance of winning at Sacrifice. But then you take my 75% chance of winning, if we was to go one on one, and then add 66 2/3 per cents, I got 141 2/3 chance of winning at Sacrifice. See Joe, the numbers don't lie, and they spell disaster for you at Sacrifice.



spineflu
@spineflu

"A REAL job is a job you hate. I designed car ads and grocery ads in the windowless basement of a convenience store, and I hated every single minute of the 4-1/2 million minutes I worked there. My fellow prisoners at work were basically concerned about how to punch the time clock at the perfect second where they would earn another 20 cents without doing any work for it.

It was incredible: after every break, the entire staff would stand around in the garage where the time clock was, and wait for that last click. And after my used car needed the head gasket replaced twice, I waited in the garage too.

It was a rude shock to see just how empty and robotic life can be when you don't care about what you're doing, and the only reason you're there is to pay the bills.Thoreau said, “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." That's one of those dumb cocktail quotations that will strike fear in your heart as you get older. Actually, I was leading a life of loud desperation.

Like many people, I found that what I was chasing wasn't what I caught. I've wanted to be a cartoonist since I was old enough to read cartoons, and I never really thought about cartoons as being a business. It never occurred to me that a comic strip I created would be at the mercy of a bloodsucking corporate parasite called a syndicate, and that I'd be faced with countless ethical decisions masquerading as simple business decisions.To make a business decision, you don't need much philosophy; all you need is greed, and maybe a little knowledge of how the game works.

As my comic strip became popular, the pressure to capitalize on that popularity increased to the point where I was spending almost as much time screaming at executives as drawing. Cartoon merchandising is a $12 billion dollar a year industry and the syndicate understandably wanted a piece of that pie. But the more I thought about what they wanted to do with my creation, the more inconsistent it seemed with the reasons I draw cartoons.Selling out is usually more a matter of buying in. Sell out, and you're really buying into someone else's system of values, rules and rewards.The so-called "opportunity" I faced would have meant giving up my individual voice for that of a money-grubbing corporation. It would have meant my purpose in writing was to sell things, not say things. My pride in craft would be sacrificed to the efficiency of mass production and the work of assistants. Authorship would become committee decision. Creativity would become work for pay. Art would turn into commerce. In short, money was supposed to supply all the meaning I'd need.What the syndicate wanted to do, in other words, was turn my comic strip into everything calculated, empty and robotic that I hated about my old job. They would turn my characters into television hucksters and T-shirt sloganeers and deprive me of characters that actually expressed my own thoughts.

On those terms, I found the offer easy to refuse. Unfortunately, the syndicate also found my refusal easy to refuse, and we've been fighting for over three years now. Such is American business, I guess, where the desire for obscene profit mutes any discussion of conscience.

You will find your own ethical dilemmas in all parts of your lives, both personal and professional. We all have different desires and needs, but if we don't discover what we want from ourselves and what we stand for, we will live passively and unfulfilled. Sooner or later, we are all asked to compromise ourselves and the things we care about. We define ourselves by our actions. With each decision, we tell ourselves and the world who we are. Think about what you want out of this life, and recognize that there are many kinds of success.Many of you will be going on to law school, business school, medical school, or other graduate work, and you can expect the kind of starting salary that, with luck, will allow you to pay off your own tuition debts within your own lifetime.

But having an enviable career is one thing, and being a happy person is another.

Creating a life that reflects your values and satisfies your soul is a rare achievement. In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive. Ambition is only understood if it's to rise to the top of some imaginary ladder of success. Someone who takes an undemanding job because it affords him the time to pursue other interests and activities is considered a flake. A person who abandons a career in order to stay home and raise children is considered not to be living up to his potential-as if a job title and salary are the sole measure of human worth.You'll be told in a hundred ways, some subtle and some not, to keep climbing, and never be satisfied with where you are, who you are, and what you're doing. There are a million ways to sell yourself out, and I guarantee you'll hear about them.

To invent your own life's meaning is not easy, but it's still allowed, and I think you'll be happier for the trouble.Reading those turgid philosophers here in these remote stone buildings may not get you a job, but if those books have forced you to ask yourself questions about what makes life truthful, purposeful, meaningful, and redeeming, you have the Swiss Army Knife of mental tools, and it's going to come in handy all the time."
Bill Watterson


 
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