Call Me Grim

Let’s do Adam vs. Vox this time.

1. Vox is sympathized with and Adam is dehumanized

When Vox gets rejected and ridiculed by Alastor, it’s planted in a sympathetic light. Like the show encourages you to feel bad for him. But that’s incredibly ridiculous after you look at Vox’s past.

Before he even meet Alastor, Vox was a serial killer who claimed at least 8 victims just to climb the media hierarchy when he was alive (and yes, I counted). And expressed absolutely no remorse for it. His rejection should not have been played for sympathy. It should have been played for karma.

Watch the music video and count for yourself: https://youtu.be/GJQpBUcKhTk?is=euQP32KsIMlZEhui

Meanwhile any potential tragedies from Adam’s background is stripped away to keep him completely irredeemable. Adam is the First Man. His wife, Eve was tempted by Lucifer, he lost Eden, he lost his son, Abel to murder which was committed by his other son, Cain, he loses Cain to banishment, and he had to watch humanity descend lower and lower into corruption. And yet all the show does is depict Adam as this toxic and sadistic monster. He never got any soft/emotional moments that lasted more than a few seconds. Even then, his soft moments (like his affection towards Lute) is kept as minor or minuscule moments.

Pay attention to the length of the video and how long both soft or emotional character moments last.

2. Vox is allowed to have “valid points” but Adam isn’t

Vox is praised for calling out Heaven’s actions and standing up for the sinners even though it’s very obvious that he’s only doing this to achieve his own goals. Vox does not care about the sinners whatsoever. He’s just using them to further his own agenda.

However, Adam is never allowed to have point once. Instead, his reasoning for being against Charlie is because he finds killing sinners to be entertaining. Never mind the fact that the majority of sinners are filled with complete scumbags who have never shown any remorse for their actions. Never mind the fact that countless sinners (like Vox) have produced victims who are probably living in Heaven right now. Never mind the fact that the show has shown sinners killing and eating each other in broad daylight. Never mind the fact that most of them had decades or centuries to reflect on their actions but chose not to. But yeah, I’m sure you get I’m trying to say. Adam is technically correct when he said the sinners had their chance to be better. Adam is portrayed as this sadistic manic just so Charlie doesn’t have to answer difficult questions about redeeming sinners.

3. The Redemption Double Standards

Vox is allowed to be a serial killer on Earth, brainwash Angel Dust into being a spy which traumatizes him so badly that he decides to return to his abuser out of guilt, and nearly destroy the pentagram just to kill Alastor and still be set up for a “humbled” arc/possible redemption arc in season three.

While on the other hand, Adam is killed off and denied any chance at having any scene where he reflects on his actions. Instead, he’s executed by Nifty as a joke and demonized by the narrative just so the protagonist’s moral superiority goes unchallenged.

Keep in mind that Vox has never once apologized for anything he’s done after he was defeated. Not even to his friends. Instead, he has the audacity to ask about his approval rating. Why does Vox have the potential to be redeemed but Adam was just a lost cause? It makes no sense.

The Hellaverse has a real favoritism problem and it’s hurting the story of both Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss.

@almacambiondaughterofsaleos @thinker257

Links: https://entertainingly-detestable.fandom.com/wiki/Vox

why are anti AI people so easy to ragebait

like so ragebaitable that it isn’t even funny or rewarding

because you could just say something like “Use Ai, it’s better” and the antis would get mad over it. THE LITERAL WORST RAGEBAIT EVER SOMEHOW RAGEBAITED THEM.

infact, my unserious blog was all about ragebaiting them LOL

I'm perfectly aware this is a joke and I don't want to censor jokes. But... Idk, for me this is a joke you should keep to yourself and your friends and maybe do not post on your public blog

Or maybe it's not a joke. Maybe some of these people really think doing cocaine is better than using gen AI. And this is just insane for me

It’s a very particular kind of online bravado that treats self-destruction as personality.

“Use cocaine like a real author” gets passed around as a joke, and sure—people will insist it’s ironic, harmless, just Tumblr being Tumblr. But the punchline only works if you quietly accept the premise: that chemical dependency is somehow more authentic, more “real,” more artistically legitimate than using tools.

Spend a single evening in an open AA or NA meeting and that premise collapses instantly. You don’t get tortured genius. You get people structuring their entire lives around not relapsing. You get language built around vigilance, fragility, maintenance. No one there is romanticizing anything. They’re busy surviving it.

So when that aesthetic gets recycled as a quirky, edgy stance against AI, it doesn’t read as rebellious. It reads as people who have never been close enough to addiction to understand what they’re casually invoking.

And the comparison itself is intellectually lazy. Lumping “using AI” together with substance dependency just because both can be framed as “crutches” is the kind of flattening that makes discourse feel loud but empty. One is a tool that can be used well or badly. The other is a condition that dismantles your autonomy and then asks you to rebuild it, piece by piece, for the rest of your life.

What you’re seeing isn’t a serious position. It’s performance—escalation for attention. The more extreme the statement, the more it signals taste, identity, defiance. Internet culture rewards volume and shock value, not coherence.

And yes, anonymity helps. When there are no consequences, people reach for the most dramatic metaphor available, even if it means trivializing something that, in any offline context, they wouldn’t dare treat so lightly.

There’s a funny little lie people tell themselves about AI:

that the real tragedy is “it kills creativity”.

Really? That’s the tragedy?

Not the part where, the second you remove friction and gatekeeping, the average human imagination sprints straight to big tits, anime thighs and vaguely on‑model corporate concept art?

AI didn’t “fill the internet with slop”.

It removed the distance between “what’s in your head” and “what everyone else has to look at”.

The slop was already there. Now it’s just searchable, high‑res and flooding every tag.

And yes, that’s uncomfortable.

Because once you scroll through a few hundred identical kawaii waifus, overrendered gore babes and prompt‑engineered “dark academia” Pinterest soup, it gets very hard to maintain the polite fiction that people are secretly deep and interesting, just tragically unsupported by tools.

Give them infinite tools and zero friction, and what leaks out is… this.

No wonder people hate AI.

It’s hard to keep believing in “the beauty of the human spirit” when the statistical average of that spirit, unfiltered, is horny wallpaper with the emotional range of a pop‑up ad.

There’s a second wound layered on top of that: the ex‑“talented children”.

If you were praised growing up for “drawing so well”, what you actually got rewarded for wasn’t imagination, it was motor skills.

Adults were impressed that a small human could produce recognisable faces, hands with roughly five fingers, a horse that doesn’t look like a disassembled dog.

Nobody was grading the content. Nobody was asking what you were saying.

Fast‑forward to 2026.

Suddenly a machine can spit out something “well drawn” on command, and if your entire identity was “the one who can do it with their own little hands”, it feels like theft.

But it’s the stenographer problem: just because you were fast on the typewriter doesn’t mean the typewriter owed you a literary career.

Being able to execute isn’t the same thing as having anything worth executing.

The third ingredient in this mess is social media itself.

People complain that “AI has flooded the internet with mindless content” as if the platforms weren’t already designed to reward exactly that.

We’ve trained a whole generation to post every unfiltered thought, every fleeting urge, every half‑formed joke for instant micro‑validation.

Of course a tool that can instantly visualise whatever you blurt into a text box is going to crank the sewage pipes open.

The models are not “corrupting” anything.

They are just amplifiers plugged into a system that already told everyone:

“Don’t think. Don’t edit. Don’t self‑censor. Just press send.”

If you strap an industrial‑grade megaphone to that culture, you don’t get opera. You get tinnitus.

So maybe that’s why AI triggers people so badly.

Not because it truly threatens some grand, untouchable human creativity — but because it makes the median human creativity impossible to ignore.

Because it quietly exposes two very rude facts at once:

Most people, when given infinite possibility, choose the same five fantasies on shuffle.

A lot of us were never taught to grow beyond “I can do this neatly”, into “I have something only I can say”.

And it’s so much easier to scream “AI ruined art” than to sit with the less flattering version:

Sorry? I'm sorry? "Kinda mean to a cis girl"? "Sexually harassed her IN RETURN"? guys new law just dropped it's fine to abuse and sexually harass women if they hurt your feelings a widdle bit

"You're a transphobe for saying this actually"

"Uh but what about all the problematic things she said?

"What the fuck are you talking about"

Being “anti‑AI” these days apparently feels like being one of the last unbitten humans in a zombie apocalypse. Which is a poetic way of saying: “I have built my entire identity on the idea that I am still normal and everyone else is contaminated.”

The funny part is that these supposedly “unbitten” humans behave less like noble survivors and more like a dog with rabies that’s hacked its way into the comments section.

They don’t come to argue. They come to bite.

They arrive in your blog not with questions, not with positions, but with a pre‑printed set of insults. They don’t actually have a stance on the technology; they have a diagnosis for you.

Ask them for a coherent argument and they immediately default to biography fanfic: you’re a fraud, you’re a fake artist, you’re a narcissist, you’re “addicted” to AI. They’re not reading the text, they’re rewriting the author into a caricature they can safely hate.

This is status panic wearing a virtue mask.

If your sense of worth is “I am one of the few Real Humans who still create the hard way”, then generative tools are not a technical problem, they’re an existential one. The moment some “zombie” with a laptop produces something interesting, your exclusive priesthood stops being exclusive.

Admitting that AI is just another layer of infrastructure would mean admitting that your superiority was circumstantial, not metaphysical. So you can’t admit that. You have to declare the tool itself inhuman, and everyone who uses it—less human than you.

And that’s where the zombie metaphor becomes useful—not for describing “AI people”, but for dissecting them.

The logic goes like this:

There are “clean” humans and “bitten” ones.

The bitten are no longer fully human.

Therefore, normal rules don’t apply to them.

Once you’ve framed someone as infected, you can justify anything: harassment, pile‑ons, doxxing, coordinated smear campaigns, endless ad hominem attacks. It’s not abuse, it’s “containment”. It’s not bullying, it’s “defending humanity”.

They are terrified of dehumanisation, so they pre‑emptively dehumanise everyone else.

The irony: people who supposedly “refuse to become zombies” have already adopted zombie rules of engagement.

They move in packs. They hunt by smell: any hint of AI in a workflow is enough to trigger a moral feeding frenzy. They don’t distinguish between “I disagree with this tool” and “this person no longer deserves basic respect”.

If you truly believed you were uninfected, you wouldn’t spend your evenings foaming in strangers’ comment sections. You’d be building alternative models, supporting non‑AI spaces, or at least articulating a coherent ethic. Instead, you bite the nearest throat and call it a stance.

There is a difference between criticism and rabies.

Criticism says: “Here is what these tools do to labour, to ownership, to aesthetics, and here is why I’m against that.” Rabies says: “I don’t care what you’re actually doing. You used a forbidden tool. You’re contaminated. I am now licensed to attack you.”

The first requires thought, nuance, and a willingness to stay human in a complicated world. The second requires nothing but fear, a moral slogan, and Wi‑Fi.

Funny how the people who chant “use your brain instead of AI” are the ones least interested in thinking past the slogan. If you want to know who’s really “unbitten”, don’t look at who refuses to touch AI. Look at who still treats other people as human beings while navigating a future they didn’t personally sign off on. The rest are just calling themselves survivors while snapping at every ankle that dares to walk past their cage.

If you think that complaining about AI and wanting it to get banned on stuff and harassing people that use AI and ect is ACTUALLY going to get the owners of the AI company’s attention and make them go

“OH NO RANDOMPERSON_11 ON REDDIT/TUMBLR/TWITTER DOESNT LIKE AI!!!! WE WILL HAVE TO SHUT DOWN ALL THE DATA CENTERS AND AI!!!!!!” then you are severely mistaken.

They call it “AI slop” like they’ve discovered a new category of trash, but be honest: humanity has been pumping out slop manually for centuries. Same templates, same safe tropes, same boring flyers, same doodles where you can’t even tell what’s drawn unless you bring your own imagination to fill the gaps.

Before generative tools, all of that was just “normal”. Beginner art. Cheap design. Tired artist. “Raw creativity”. Nobody rushed to invent a special insult for it — they didn’t need one, they felt safely protected inside the category “real artists”.

Then AI drops the entry barrier, and suddenly the exact same level of creative poverty gets a label: “AI generations”, “AI slop”. As if the problem appeared with the model, not with the lack of taste and imagination. The tool just made the baseline visible. You can now see, in bulk, how primitive average human output is, regardless of medium or effort: most of what we call “creativity” at scale is painfully simple and forgettable.

And the most entertaining part? The same people who draw chaotic little doodles and call themselves “artists” are the ones yelling “AI artist isn’t a real artist” and “don’t you dare critique beginner artists”. They don’t notice they’re the ones starting this war. They’re the ones forcing thinking people to ask:

if “I can hold a pencil” is enough to claim the word artist, why exactly is “I can drive a model and make something that moves you" automatically outside that category?

and

if “the internet is flooded with AI slop”, what was it before — wall‑to‑wall Louvre?