Orneryjen Story Dump

SO! I did a lot of searching and compiled a basic list of the most popular negative words used in AI image generator prompts for you artists and writers to download. Que:

- You madwoman! Why would you compile a list that's useful for AI 'artists' to use?

- Why is this going to make things better for the artists out there that who worked hard on their stuff ?

Because Art of War 101, one must know their enemy to effectively deal with them. These AI crawlers breed like rabbits and they are hungry AF. And as the tech gets better, no amount of robot.txt , watermarking, regulations, or Glaze will stop them.

But I'm testing out a thought and a theory. If you can get them bot-bunnies to associate your work with some of the most common negative tag-words, this could help exclude your work from AI users as they type in those prompts. It's not a flattering list and it's not foolproof. But it's another weapon in your arsenal in defending your work from plagiarism and genericism.

It's probably too late for the more popular artists out there. And I don't know how this will work over those who post their content over social media platforms such as here. But if you're starting out and have your own website/gallery/server/cloud, you can upload this puppy into your website. Or publish a separate webpage and paste the words in tiny white-text over a white background. For those that code, you're more smarter than me finding a way to embed this into your site/server.

Hopefully I can compile a longer list and in different languages in the future.

Rodney Rose

Then he went on, "While he was over here, this fellow died, and the British for some reason insisted that his body be sent home to England for burial. Now the only way to do that in those days was to pickle it in alcohol. So the body was put into a barrel of rum. The barrel was lashed to the mast of a schooner and the ship sailed for home. After about four weeks at sea, the captain of the schooner noticed a most frightful stench coming from the barrel. and in the end, the smell became so appalling that they had to cut the barrel loose and roll it overboard."

"But do you know why it stinks so badly?" the President asked, beaming at the guests with that famous wide smile of his. "I will tell you exactly why. Some of the sailors had drilled a hole in the bottom of the barrel and had inserted a bung. Then every night they had been helping themselves to the rum. And when they had drunk it all, that's when the trouble started." Franklin Roosevelt let out a great roar of laughter. Several females at the table turned very pale and I saw them pushing their plates of boiled white fish gently away.

A toast

Premise: Two scoundrels try to save an adult day care center by crashing into one of the biggest Christmas Parties in Las Vegas.

Part of the Route 15 story series.

I'm behind on my promised deadline and the party scene almost killed me. But this story is now complete! (Future drafts of this story will include prose clean-up and illustrations.)

ROUTE 15: NOEL a Short Christmas Tale by OrneryJen

Premise: Two scoundrels try to save an adult day care center by crashing into one of the biggest Christmas Parties in Las Vegas.

Disclaimer: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, businesses, and incidents are either products of the author's work or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Except Martin Shkreli. Fuck that guy.

------------------------

PREEMPTIVE

THE UNWANTED VISITOR.

There's always one at Christmas. The gold-mining ex. The entitled step-son. The nagging mother in-law. The meth cousin. Scrooge has his old bank partner Bob Marley. George Bailey had his guardian angel, Clarence. King Herod had the three wise asses.

As for me, my unwanted visitor was Danny Caspers.

He was a boyishly young scoundrel. A thief. A troublemaker. A thorn in my side. Danny had "art" and trickery was his game. He was a professional forger of Van Goghs. Picassos. Renoirs. He would hire foreign painters to hand-copy works of art that would infiltrate the fine art industry, right under the eyes of every international auction house and black market in the world. Today, approximately eight hundred million dollars’ worth of fabricated paintings has passed through his paws and right into the auction houses of Christie's and Sotherbys. As long as the paintings looked sexy, the rich were happy without a care.

His counterfeits soon pissed off some important stakeholders, including the Baltic Mob. So he bailed the art world, moved on to plan B, and tried a much liquid medium: Money. He tinkered with surplus press equipment he bought off Craigslist, formulated his secret dyes and ink and off he went making money. First Alexander Hamilton. Then Andrew Jackson. And finally Benjamin Franklin. He rolled hundred dollar bills hot off his rickety inkjet printer for several months. He was so good that the phony money infiltrated every underground casino in South Florida and Atlantic City.

Eventually, his counterfeits soon pissed off some other important people, including the Cuban Cartel. So he bailed the money-making world and vanished without a trace.

A year later, he came up with Plan C.

State regulations are fickle when regulating legal documents. Most forms are electronically generated these days. Tax returns, home loans, bank accounts to name a few. But there are more important documents technology can never replace.  Birth certificates. Ownership titles. Durable Power of Attorney. Living wills. There's a reason why digital copies won't do: civilization wants the real thing.

An original document of importance is marked for authenticity. A stamp of approval. An inky thumbprint. A signature from the original signer. But if the signer of those documents is incapacitated—either demented or dead—there's no way you can change or disproven what's already signed. And should a document that looks like, smells like, feels like a living will or trust, it’s difficult to dispute it when it magically appears. I assume Danny has already gotten away skimming a few inheritances; His choice of narcissistic gomers, rich estranged fathers, and miserable scrooges has been easy game.

Now that I told you about this menace, you ask: where do I come into the picture?

Premise:

A doctor provides an unusual solution to a spousal abuse victim.

STEAK

I'm a registered nurse who works at the Emergency Room Unit of a busy level II trauma hospital in the Southwest. My typical shift starts at 1900 in the evening to 0700 in the morning and my typical "customers" are a motley sort:  "Homie" drop-offs (wounded gang members dumped right at the ER curb by their "friends") with gunshot wounds fixed with chest tubes and vacuums draining their lungs. Nursing home elderlies, neglected and festering deep in sores and feces. Frothy overdoses, mangled motor vehicle accidents, cardiac arrests, alcohol withdrawals, schizophrenic wig-outs, customer service complaints…you get it.

CAFE OPERANDUS, Part 2.

The First Several Panels to Cafe Operandus, a crazy short webcomic I'm working on that's getting me out of an art block for the past year.

This is a work in progress but at least I'm halfway done.

READ ALL OF PART 1

First, it was the pastries.

Then, it was the pain.

Night City Image Pack. Download here.

I'll be putting up some of my art resources on Gumroad intermittently that are free to download (Or for $ tips if you like). These are high resolution images that may come with a PSD file.