Snake and Mouse

Guy doing the testing things responded to my concerns about privacy with "yeah, that's entirely fair"

Talking out loud to a pair of glasses feels stupid as fuck even in a room with an audience specifically for testing the glasses. I cannot imagine having to make requests of the glasses in any public space without feeling like a sellout dork on par with cybertruck owners.

Glasses accurately, but inefficiently (and imo insufficiently) described the people I was looking at, by mentioning them one by one, describing everything about their clothing in between. Maybe this is just me, but I feel like "three people standing in front of me" should be the first piece of information, not "a person in front of you with dark hair standing and wearing scrubs and white shoes holding a clipboard. A person to the left of you with long brown hair standing and wearing scrubs and white shoes. A person to the right of you-"

Glasses stop describing any time someone says anything and also, sometimes, if nothing happens at all. The wait time for it to resume is the perfect amount of seconds for it to feel awkward, which is impressive.

Glasses inaccurately described the office / eye test room I was in as a theater storage area, presumably because there was wood in it. Told it to stop doing this when it started describing everything in the room, fairly inaccurately based on this assumption.

Asked it to read a book page for me. Took three attempts at asking for it to do so. Took a picture of the page, processed, read the chapter number and three words, and stopped. Guy said sometimes you have to tell it to continue. Asked it to continue reading. It resumed describing the room from before.

How does anyone use these and think they're cool

I can see them hypothetically being an accessibility tool but honestly only if they had a keypad command input option. Having to state everything aloud is just so awkward, especially at the volume it needs to register. Like I don't want to sit in a nice restaurant and loudly instruct my glasses to read the menu to me just to get a handful of prices and no words. If there were a communication keyboard style mix and match for simple commands (or even just "read", "id", "find (option)") that could be sent and received quietly, maybe. MAYBE. but it utterly failed at the main things a low vision accessibility device is even for. AND they look stupid.

then on the flip, sam will just act like... the tallest pissiest little brother about events that are straight up his own fault (either by omission or by choice/action) and he'll go right ahead and exploit dean's caretaker tendency to self-blame and marinate in global, irrational guilt to be like "you caused this actually. i'm never the liability."

Batman and Robin finish dealing with a rogue and Bruce gets notified that the batmobile’s been compromised. Red Hood has already tried to blow up him and Robin multiple times this point, so without being sure who it is he’s already cautious. They get back to the car ready to fight only to find their city’s latest crime lord half-hanging out of the passenger window, legs flailing in the air, banging loudly about on the inside of the car with his fists.

“WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE NO CHERRY OPTIONS?! B I KNOW YOUR BITCH ASS KNOWS NEVER TO RUN OUT OF CHERRY.” He screams when he notices them standing around nearby.

Bruce is fucking flabbergasted. Tim’s the only one with the (albeit baffled) sense of mind to stick his hand up in the air like he’s at school before confusedly letting Hood know “…Uhm. I think- I think there’s some cherry flavour in the- in a box under the back seat…?”

Red Hood’s legs flail about slightly as he twists around into an even weirder angle to reach the back. A few more clanks and bangs later and he starts shuffling back out of the window, body language smug. Whe he’s out, he turns to reveal a handful of cherry flavour fruit snacks in his hands. He cocks a hip as he starts unwrapping them.

“So. How was Riddler tonight?”

Bruce makes an aborted movement towards him, suddenly panicked. “You can’t- don’t you dare eat those! Those are Jason’s!” He blurts unthinkingly, memories flashing in his mind of little Jason, the son he mourned, constantly hungry and stubborn about the types of snacks he’d eat. After he’d died and Bruce cleared out the car for the first time, he’d found one of Jason’s old stashes. He hadn’t been strong enough to get rid of them. Still kept a second secret stock of the second Robin’s favourite mid-patrol munchies on hand, as if his ghost would come back to complain about being forgotten. Seeing Red Hood desecrate his sacred offerings made his blood pressure spike, but it was nothing compared to the way he bluescreened when Hood didn’t react at all, instead continuing to unwrap the plastic and undoing the clasp of his helmet with one hand.

“Yeah, bitch-ass.” He sniped, taking off the helmet and shoving the snack in his mouth. “‘ason’s ‘uckin snacks. Mine.” He muffled around a mouthful of food.

Bruce goes very, very still. “What.”

Tim cocks his head. “…Did you really just identity-reveal yourself for a fruit snack?”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Replacement.”

If the Please Do Not Eat That Professional thinks it's inconsequential enough to be funny, then the concerned caller knows it's no big deal. When I was a kid my mom called poison control because I ate not one but several crayons, and their advice was to make sure I didn't stray too far from a toilet for a few hours because suppositories are made of wax, too.

Also several years ago I ate half a sandwich while wondering why the hell it tasted so funny only to realize the Goo Gone I'd been cleaning with was leaking, and did so onto my sandwich. Poison Control now has an online form where you can put in what you ingested/how much/when/etc. and someone basically triages those out, so the kid who just drank a bunch of drain cleaner isn't in line behind the kid who ate a crayon. I got a call like twenty minutes later from a nurse who told me I was fine.

Oh! And if you want to know what the tool looks like, it now gives a "this is not a real case" option to let you test it out, so I became a hypothetical worried patient who accidentally took 1000mg of ibuprofen (max dose should be 800) instead of 1000mg of acetaminophen (which has a max dose of 1000) and ran the entire thing. It took me less than two minutes from this:

To this:

Below this screenshot I was advised to drink some water and that if symptoms developed in the next four hours, I should only be concerned in certain cases (e.g. nausea is normal, heart palpitations are a problem).

So what if it's a serious problem? Suddenly, hypothetical Nina was cleaning xir bathroom sink and got hit with some Drano splashback with xir eyes and mouth open! Here's what the tool suggested. As soon as I selected that I'd gotten Drano in my eyes, this popped up:

So I hypothetically went to rinse my eyes, came back, and indicated it'd also gotten into my mouth and onto my skin. Here was the result:

And finally, hypothetical!Nina made an extremely bad decision, then decided this wasn't how xe wanted things to end after all. So I selected the option that says I'd attempted self-harm, and this popped up. (I didn't get it in the screenshot, but there's a drawing of a sad snail at the top of the screen. I think it's supposed to remind you someone is there, this just isn't the best route to reach them.)

He goes down, ends up in a coma or brain dead, on life support, genuinely never coming back and even if part of him did he would be in agony from his cpr injuries. The best thing is to let him go.

But its not convenient to. His own *wife* runs away to China so they can't *make* her do the right thing and allow him to pass. She doesn't love him enough to override the political posturing. His own family is letting his abused half alive carcass get played with like a political doll while he's trapped in purgatory, as close to undead as one can be.