blah.

An idea I had for Blood of Eden propaganda/recruitment posters featuring some of our favorite guys - combo of digital-print cyberpunk graphic design style with oldschool Saturday Morning Post covers like you'd see Leyendecker paintings on

I was gonna post these ahead of tabling at a small con and selling prints of them but ended up not tabling because turns out grad school is hard

Aus den beschlagnahmten Buchstaben basteln wir uns einen CSD.

i feel like the problem with this question is best illustrated by a conversation i had with a friend a while back, where i said something like, "i feel very safe with you because you don't do subtle hints and you are always very straight-up with me about what you are thinking and feeling."

vaporeon - tiger

jolteon - cheetah

flareon - lion

espeon - eurasian lynx

umbreon - melanated jaguar (black panther)

leafeon - clouded leopard

glaceon - snow leopard

sylveon - serval

An ex-libris, also called bookplate, is a kind of printed stamp at the beginning or end of a book that says who owns it (think of the stamp you surely have seen in the books owned by a library). Though ex-libris have been used since ancient times, their "golden age" in Catalonia was during the Modernist movement (the Catalan equivalent of Art Nouveau), where many bookworm people commissioned artists to have a beautiful personal ex-libris that they could use to stamp all their collection.

The text in the 1st one, written in the Catalan language, says "no matter how much you know, there's always much more that you don't know" (per molt que sapies es molt mes lo que ignores).

I still think about this moment all the time.

I feel like this is an almost universal experience for people of our generation. We always knew more or less that the super-rich were corrupt assholes ruthlessly exploiting the rest of us for their own gains. But still, on some level, we held out to the belief that when things were really dire, when we really had to work together or risk catastrophe, even those rich assholes would begrudgingly do their part. We knew the game was rigged, but we though there were some rules keeping the powerful in check. And then we had that moment of finding out that no, there really were no rules if you had enough money, that you could really just fuck over all of society and get off scot free. For some of us that moment was the 2008 financial crisis. For others it was later, but I feel like we all had that sinking realization at one point, that feeling of sheer powerlessness in the face of the most brazen injustice.

And for John that moment must have hit so much worse, as he was screwed over personally as well as politically. That was his project, he was supposed to save humanity - except they wouldn't even let him. They took away his life's work and the future of humanity in one fell swoop. Imagine the entire world crashing down on you like that. Would you ever be able to recover? I don't think I would.

After that moment, I don't think there's anything John could have done that could have made me lose all sympathy for him. He did so much wrong but man they really had to break him to get him to that point.

AND AGAIN!!!

Even after all he's been through, even after he saw the trillionaires steal his life's work laughing all the way to the bank, he STILL clings to the idea of some ultimate justice. He's still assuming they're playing by the same rules as everyone else. He still can't accept that the whole system he's been carefully working his way through to make a difference in the world was always designed to serve these people.

And again...

“After a bit of small talk, I realized they had no interest in the information I had prepared about the future of technology. They had come with questions of their own.

They started out innocuously enough. Ethereum or bitcoin? Is quantum computing a real thing? Slowly but surely, however, they edged into their real topics of concern.

Which region will be less impacted by the coming climate crisis: New Zealand or Alaska? Is Google really building Ray Kurzweil a home for his brain, and will his consciousness live through the transition, or will it die and be reborn as a whole new one? Finally, the CEO of a brokerage house explained that he had nearly completed building his own underground bunker system and asked, “How do I maintain authority over my security force after the event?”

The Event. That was their euphemism for the environmental collapse, social unrest, nuclear explosion, unstoppable virus, or Mr. Robot hack that takes everything down.

This single question occupied us for the rest of the hour. They knew armed guards would be required to protect their compounds from the angry mobs. But how would they pay the guards once money was worthless? What would stop the guards from choosing their own leader? The billionaires considered using special combination locks on the food supply that only they knew. Or making guards wear disciplinary collars of some kind in return for their survival. Or maybe building robots to serve as guards and workers — if that technology could be developed in time.

Fear me