SO MANY BOTS WHY DID THEY SUDDENLY START TARGETTING ME IN DECEMBER BARELY HAD ANY SPAM ACCOUNT FOLLOWS

All art is derivative. Yes, there should be protections of the rights of artists that their work can't be used in databases of AI art without consent. And yes AI does not consciously create art. In that sense, it is a tool for creating art. I don't see why these things make AI art inherently wrong or anyone using them wrong. By the way, I have only ever shared AI art with a small number of friends and only from programs I trust to be using public domain datasets You shouldn't paint everyone using AI for art with the same brush.

AI Art and Why It Can Go Die In A Fire

Why am I opposed to Stable Diffusion and AI Art in its current incarnation:

Some people seem to believe AI can “learn” art. Like it learns the concepts of perspective, value, anatomy, colour etc. through images and then recreates art based on this knowledge.

This is a misconception.

An AI doesn’t “know” things. It has no concept for artistic fundamentals. It just learns associations based on the data it’s given in a way that’s completely , vastly different to the way a human brain does. An AI can only recreate based on known image data. Those recreations can be blended in a very complex way, but they will ALWAYS be derived directly from image data it’s trained on.

A human can take a paint-bucket, and throw it at a canvas, and then mush paint around with their fingers. An AI can’t do that;  it can only blend image data that best fits “canvas with messy splashed paint”. It will pull from all the image data it’s categorized with “canvas”, “splash”, “paint”, etc. and then blend them by placing datapoints next to other datapoints that it has “learned” will most suitably go next to each other.

Human learning creates complex conceptual structures. Our concept of an “apple” may contain many elements such as the colour red, how heavy it is, its overall form, how you hold it, and what it tastes like. An AI’s concept of an “apple” is whatever images it associates with the word “apple” based on text cues in its training.

When you tell it to paint “a hand holding an apple”, it will recreate and blend many images of hands with many images of apples in a way that best fit each other depending on weights defined by the data its analyzed.

Any presumption that AI can “learn” art theory and then make art through its knowledge of this is incorrect, and would require a level of general AI intelligence we are nowhere near capable of building yet, and we won’t with our current models because they are not creating actual epistemology, merely datapoint-based imitation without actual integration or understanding.

But the bottom line? All AI art is derivative and, unless it was trained exclusively on works in the public domain, there is definitely a case to argue that the companies creating these algorithms are violating the copyright of the artists whose works they are using without there first being a contract, agreement, or royalties (which is the thing these companies are trying to weasel out of by creating these AIs in the first place.) There is a reason why Clip Studio Paint, the latest of money-chasers jumping aboard the Stable Diffusion pony, issued out a warning that states, verbatim, “we cannot guarantee that images generated by the current model will not infringe on the rights of others.“

They know. They just don’t care- and everyone who ‘creates’ AI art is a willing participant in the infringing of copyright of millions of artists who never gave consent to have their works used in this fashion.

25 million years PE: The End of the Rodentocene

Dusk of One and Dawn of Another: The End of the Rodentocene Era

It is a chilly afternoon in northern Nodera. The main yellow sun, Alpha, is beginning to set, casting the temperate landscape with a bright yellow gleam, while above it hovers the red-orange pinprick of Beta, promising a few hours more of Beta-twilight before true night sets in. Above in the sky soar a number of ratbats, emerging at dusk to seize the swarms of airborne insects active in this hour of tangerine skies.

It has been 25 million years since life first came to HP-02017, and the wildlife certainly shows its adaptation. Once all just tiny, humble hamsters, they have expanded into such an unimaginable array of forms their seeding precursors would never have foreseen--wherever they were, so long a time later.

In the grasses of the Noderan landscape the sounds of a scuffle can be heard: two rival male masked luchaboars are jousting for territory, squealing loudly as they lock tusks and try to throw their opponent into the ground. Their species, and their territorial jousting, has gone virtually unchanged since the Late Rodentocene, 5 million years ago, but by this time great changes have occurred around them. Once they were the greatest of all Nodera's creatures, but now that age has passed.

The luchaboars butt heads with loud squeals, trying to scare the rival off their turf. But suddenly, both cease their combat and perk their ears in attention, as a faint rumbling sound, slowly approaching, interrupts their petty dispute.

Something is coming.

Something big.

A herd of mison come plodding their way, the ground rumbling with their footsteps while clouds of vapor condense in the cold air with each mighty breath. Like the bumbaas, the mison are descendants of the cavybaras as well-- but their size is on a whole different level.

Weighing almost two thousand pounds when fully grown and measuring six feet high at the shoulder, these lumbering giants have increased in mass from their cavybara ancestors almost twentyfold, and are now thousands of times much more massive than the miniscule hamster that was released onto this planet all too long ago. The vacancy of niches allowed the miniscule hamster to spread out into bigger forms: some of which are now very big indeed.

The herd emerges onto the plains, migrating to new grazing land, and soon dozens, and then hundreds, come tromping their way through the grassland: and faced with such a massive herd, the two brawling luchaboars wisely drop their conflict and promptly flee, while the mison continue on, indifferent to the smaller creatures scurrying beneath them.

As the chilly climate of the Rodentocene's end caused sea levels to drop, the mison, which originated from Westerna, crossed the exposed land bridges down to Ecatoria and across to Nodera, and now they have become established there too, roaming the plains in large herds as they migrate in search of food.

But the mison are not alone. Soon the herd is flanked by several large bounding figures: a group of bipedal, hopping boingos. Large plains grazers descended from the jerryboas, specifically the greater skipperroo, these 190-pound, six-foot-tall leapers dominate the grasslands throughout nearly every continent save for Borealia and Peninsulaustra. Their efficient bounding gaits and grazing dentition have allowed the boingos to conquer the plains, crowding out most of the hamtelopes and keeping their grazing species as small hare-like grazers in the plains...or at least, most of them.

Towering above them all is an immense figure that, with its slender neck, long legs bearing hoofed toes, and a lack of a tail, is unmistakably a giant hamtelope: the girat. While most plains-dwelling hamtelopes avoided competition with the jerryboas and their descendants the boingos by remaining small and feeding on soft, low-ground vegetation, other hamtelopes instead avoided competitive pressure by taking the opposite route, becoming high browsers that feed on tall vegetation beyond the boingos' reach: culminating in the girats, which when full-grown can stand up to 16 feet high-- the tallest hamsters to walk the planet.

Suddenly, the once massive cavybaras and bumbaas are tremendously dwarfed by the great new creatures that have emerged to fill the niches of large megafauna prevalent on Earth, but absent here. The arrival of these massive, mighty behemoths heralds the end of the Rodentocene, and the dawning of a new era: the Therocene-- the age of beasts.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

The Middle Rodentocene: 10 million years post-establishment

Silence of the Hams: Predatory Hamsters of the Middle Rodentocene

The increase of species diversity in the Middle Rodentocene has also put pressure on food sources, with different species competing over resources and access to available niches. With so many different hamster species abundant all over the various biomes, some of the species have turned their attentions to other, more viable food sources: other hamsters.

Even the ancestral hamster species they all spawned from wasn't exempt from occasionally snacking on one another, or more infamously among pet owners, of hamster mothers devouring their own babies when disturbed. As such, predatory behavior likely first emerged as a means of getting rid of competition: but with them both disposing of rivals and getting nutritious meals as a beneficial bonus, it wasn't long until some became obligate hunters of their fellow rodents. Multiple, unrelated lineages would separately and convergently become predators, relying on a diverse array of tactics for capturing their prey.

One of the most basal lineages of predatory hamsters are the hammibals (family Pantherocricetidae) a clade of small predators that possess dentition and anatomy that physiologically resemble those of a typical rodent. However, rodent teeth are fairly well-suited for gnawing on both plants and meat, and so the hammibals specialized into a different niche while keeping their anatomy conservative. Their grisly behavior meant that they no longer had to compete with other hamsters over food -- they became their food.

The largest of the hammibals is the Leopard Hammibal (Pardocricetus lecteri), growing up to the size of a large rat. While still mostly insectivorous, a significant portion, almost half, of its diet consists of smaller hamster species which it ambushes in their burrows or pursues when they emerge to forage. Grasping forelimbs with sharp claws seize the prey in an instant, and once secured in its grasp, the hammibal begins to feast on the struggling victim, chomping away on the unlucky prey headfirst until at last the desperate squeaks fade into silence.

But while a basal rodent body plan is suitable for predation of smaller rodents, tackling bigger prey proves for more of a challenge. As such, the fearrets (family Mustelocricetidae) have specialized their body plan far more than the hammibals did, developing stabbing points on their incisors and moving their first molars forward to form shearing teeth that can easily slice mouthfuls of meat from bigger carcasses. This peculiar dentition, closely reminescent of the prehistoric Earth marsupial Thylacoleo, allows the fearrets to take on much larger prey, typically hamtelopes and jerryboas but also young cavybaras on occasion.

The largest species, the Grey Fearret (Mustelocricetus atrox), is roughly the size of a pine marten, and as of this era is currently the biggest carnivore of HP-02017. An ambush predator that specializes on hamtelopes, it hunts during the daytime, where its favored prey, the long-legged ratzelles, are most active. Fearrets hunt by using their incisors to puncture bloody wounds into a victim's neck, before quickly retreating: to avoid injury to themselves, they repeatedly lunge, attack, retreat and attack again, wearing the prey down until it eventually succumbs to exhaustion and blood loss.

Grey fearrets mate for life, and mated pairs are known to hunt cooperatively, with one partner chasing prey in the direction of its concealed mate preparing for an ambush. Each pair produces yearly a litter of 2-4 pups at a time, which are dependent on their parents for several months until they are old enough to hunt on their own.

But not all predators in this time period are active hunters that pursue and grapple with their prey. Others, such as the scabbers (family Vermicaudamuridae) rely on other tactics: namely, stealth and deception, luring their prey to them instead of expending much energy in a chase.

The mottled scabber (Vermiformicauda pettigrewi) is one such bait-hunter, preying on small rodents that live on the forest floor, primarily insectivorous ones. Its coat is mottled with light and dark spots to blend in almost seamlessly with the leaf-litter of the ground, and rolling among the fragrant dried leaves to disguise its scent. However, while it is well hidden, one part of its body is very conspicuous: the very end of its long tail, which is flexible, hairless and segmented-- bearing very close resemblance to an earthworm, a favorite meal of many forest-floor hamsters.

Hiding quietly among the dead leaves, the mottled scabber exposes the tip of its tail and twitches it in imitation of a worm. Attracted by the movement, small insectivores eagerly pounce on the wiggling lure...and right within striking range of the camouflaged hunter, which lunges in a blink of an eye and quickly dispatches its quarry with a bite to the back of the neck, crushing its spine and ceasing its struggles in an instant.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

A Laboratory for Star Formation

Location: In the Carina spiral arm of our Milky Way Galaxy

Distance from Earth: About 20,000 light-years

Object type: Nebula and open star cluster

Discovered by: Sir John Herschel in 1834

Imaged here by the Hubble Space Telescope, NGC 3603 is a collection of thousands of large, hot stars, including some of the most massive stars known to us. Scientists categorize it as an “open cluster” because of its spread-out shape and low density of stars. Surrounding the bright star cluster are plumes of interstellar gas and dust, which comprise the nebula part of this cosmic object. New stars are formed from the gaseous material within these clouds! NGC 3603 holds stars at a variety of life stages, making it a laboratory for scientists to study star evolution and formation. Astronomers estimate that star formation in and around the cluster has been occurring for 10 to 20 million years.

Read more information about NGC 3603 here.

Right now, the Hubble Space Telescope is delving into its #StarrySights campaign! Find more star cluster content and breathtaking new images by following along on Hubble’s Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

@frislander

Moving on with NO CONSEQUENCES!

It's like it happened, but it DIDN'T happen, because we're moving on.

“Is fighting leftist antisemitism really the hill you want to die on?”

Not particularly. But, since that’s where you’re trying to kill me, I’d rather go down swinging.

The Early Therocene: 30 million years post-establishment

The Tooth Hurts: The Saber-Toothed Daggarat

The mison of the continent of Ecatoria, unlike their relatives in Westerna and Nodera, evolved a pair of prominent tusks as additional defenses against the unique native predators of the Ecatorian continent: the hamyenas. However, not even this would be enough, as eventually in the Early Therocene one species of hamyena eventually evolves to specifically prey upon mison: the saber-toothed daggarat (Smilocynomys scmitarodon).

Roughly the size of a Great Dane, the daggarat is the largest member of a group of distinctly canid-like hamyenas, the zingos. Specialized for running after prey on the open plains, they usually preyed upon smaller quarry such as boingos and hamtelopes, but the arrival of the mison from the northern continent of Westerna 5 million years ago set their sights on new prey -- and more specialized weaponry for tackling larger game.

The daggarat, like all hamyenas, sports a single long 'fang' made from the fusion of its upper incisors into a single stabbing point. However, in the daggarat, this fang can reach a length of up to six inches, and protrudes out of the mouth when the mouth is closed, to avoid injuring its own gums and lips. Hardened enamel protects the modified incisor from damage despite its exposure, and is strengthened with iron much like those of a beaver's teeth, which also grants it a distinctive orange hue. But unlike beaver teeth, the fang of the daggarat is not used for gnawing wood -- but for piercing through hide and flesh.

The primary hunting tactic of the daggarat is through persistence, singling out a straggler from a herd of mison and ambushing it. Able to open its jaws to a frightening 120 degrees, the daggarat quickly lunges in, stabs a few deep wounds into the mison intended to puncture large arteries, and promptly retreats, as an injured mison can easily trample and kill them in its panic. The daggarat then sits back and waits for the mison to move on, before harassing and wounding it again when it stops to rest or drink, putting up a prolonged cycle of attack, retreat, wait and attack once more, a process which can last as long as two to three days until exhausted and wounded, the mison finally succumbs to its injuries and the daggarat is rewarded for its patience with a huge food source that can last it for days.

Daggarats typically hunt in pairs, usually a mated couple, which cooperatively hunt together and aid one another in bringing down their large prey, and share the same den when they shelter at night. The pair are very closely bonded and rarely leave each other's side, and typically mate for life: only taking a new mate should their previous one die. The pair can produce a litter of three to five pups each breeding season (usually every two to three years), which the couple take turns caring for for at least ten months until they are weaned: by then, the father chases off the male offspring to fend for themselves, but female pups stick around for up to two years-- during which the resulting larger pack when hunting with their parents allows them a greater chance of success in quickly making a kill.

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪