In a stitched chain of trailers dressed in polite dimness and burgundy carpet, a family follows an invitation to a banquet that performs hospitality a little too perfectly. What waits at the end isn’t gore so much as complicity—a ritual plated to make spectators of the people who love each other. One father decides not to play along. He breaks the room, names the door, and walks out with something the feast can’t own: the right to look without flinching.
From The Unraveling Years: A Social History of the Doxxing Wars, Vol. 3 (2149) I. A Weird Time to Be Alive Few periods in human history have been so vividly self-aware of their absurdity. The mid-2020s were not merely strange;…
So, the inspiration behind this post is that yesterday was my night to cook dinner for the family, and I was fresh out of ideas. So, I decided to consult with ChatGPT to see if it could produce anything better than cake-is-a-lie recipes full of fish-shaped toxic resins. And, damn, was I pleasantly surprised!?
Before I get into it, to preface, I just want to say that I didn't simply ask the chat bot to make all my decisions for me and hand me a recipe. I have been cooking Iron Chef style for over 30 years now...