AI and Hoarding
This is fun. DALE-E sucks. It’s nerfed and rated G. I wanted a friendly reminder to practice my splits every day. I tried to get it to do a poster American POTUS election event style “Front Splits 2024 — Putting Your Balls on the Ground” and it refused. I understand not recreating Taylor Swift porn or Nazi Christ propaganda, but ball jokes are entry level juvenilia of obscenity. Nanny State AI is probably worse than Hitler AI on some Red-blooded American Veiny Cock Level.
But there’s always my personal psychological demons to recreate and what’s more suitable for the son of two teachers than to use a Large Language Model for just this very purpose?
This is what ensued:
3350 Creston was built in 1953 and was stoutly middle class Midcentury Modern. So:
“imagine a 1950s kitchen”
Ok. Not the kitchen I grew up in.
“imagine a 1970s kitchen”
This is closer. Beige and avocado. Neutral tones all over the place. Hell yeah. Add disco, malaise, Arabs v Jews (wait. that’s every decade), a sweater and some cigarette smoke and you have arrived.
Just as an experiment:
imagine a 1980s kitchen
I most definitely did not grow up with the Knight Rider Vice kitchen here. Why the fuck does everybody think the 1980s looked like this? It did not. There were no gays, women, or Sonny Crocketts in the 1980s. This is a ret-con. It was the 1970s with lower gas prices. Everything was brown and Qaddafi sucked. John Millius wrote the script. We all followed it and we all died. I got killed by Communists 17 times before I turned 9.
So, back to the 1970s kitchen.
“turn it into the kitchen of a hoarder”
Now, that’s the picture of hestial conviviality from my teen years! But it doesn’t represent the sheer “gonna need a bigger boat” feeling of those first weeks cleaning out The Hoard.
“please imagine the above picture as even less organized, with a hole in the ceiling”
Hell yeah. Now we’re cooking with nightmare fuel.
“now take the above picture and fill it with raccoons”
This is too bright and happy. It’s a true Franciscan vision of the blurred boundary between woman and nature. Besides, that’s a ridiculous quantity of raccoons. Let’s try again.
“Same image but with less light and fewer raccoons”
Perfection. This is what haunts my dreams.