You will remember his antecedent from my fanciful Snailtaur report. I imposed a wash on him as a test of my first fine tuned model. I liked it enough to think to use it as a start image with lots of noise, so that it would maintain the color scheme and general light/dark compositional locations. Intentionally I provided very little prompt guidance, as far as what to create, except that I’d throw different stylistic requests at it. I was really surprised at the quality and diversity of results.
Notice the structural similarity, the Van Goghian injections from the custom model and their re-swizzling via their embededness in the progenitor.
To me these techniques seem a door to unlimited potential, though it’s hard to steer.
And of course the notion that any of these can serve a the mutational palette, the genes if you will, of a subsequent generation (those below)
Say that again. But I joke not. For real, just like back when you remember.
Methodologically these are of the same form as the Rainy Foothills exercise except the initial image was an (prismatic) Ethiopian sulfur pool and the target “Cartoon style surreal horde of wet, irregular, injured, and bedraggled zombies marching up from the water, some holding sea creatures, some playing trumpets”, a target that I allowed ‘the algorithm’ to revise.
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The prompt and the start image had a lot of potential. I cycled through various models and toggled around with allowing algorithmic prompt enhancement.
I’d call this experiment quite successful in that it got me to the frontier of eliciting themed mutations fairly easily
More experiments, these with spraying (a lot of) noise on a start image so as to establish a palette, then guiding image gently toward a rough target (foreground puddles, looking through heavy rain, across fields to the foothills) and giving different style nudges. Showing only the noteworthy of a many draft endeavor.
After dialing in the tone, the first one really caught me.
This next was of interest to me more as a seed, that the bushes in the foreground could look like the backs of heads which, as so oriented, would be looking toward the distant mountains. Some sort of living witness thing.
This next I debated (and with myself lost) worthiness for inclusion. I include it to highlight how potentially plausible, how mundane these creations can be. What is it that does not taunt the eye of the beholder?
Be careful about saying ‘Japanese’ to text->image engines. They’ll try to slip Mt. Fuji in at the drop of a hat.
Again with the plausible and mundane.
and maybe a little better. I find that the activity of the rain draws the viewer in.
ah but to where my precious? Where your little dog is?
is blasphemous only to those who demand that the origins of the Cthulhu pre-date human conception. All due respect given, of course, but to let each dog have its day, the following images suggest different possible origins.
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We must acknowledge that real world outcomes speak for themselves
This Public Service Announcement is made by Citizens Hiding from Wrath of Cthulhu with additional support from the volunteers of America.
Not as one creature, thankfully. The first three are those where good prompt adherence was obtained.
The next two cute mutations
For a while it seemed that AI had little idea what a horseshoe crab was. I had to specify ‘no claws visible’ and ‘long tail’ to get it to zero in. I did rather like the bullet-riddled spaceship crabs though.
A few mutations follow that are acceptable as generic representations, but of what?
and so it was another morning in the laboratory. Best wishes to all of you
A long time ago now a fellow named Nietzsche would write thoughtful but troublesome things. He could write well. The paragraph that follows struck me at the time and has always stayed with me. It was the phrase ‘torn piecemeal by some Minotaur of conscience‘ that was so evocative. Now whether or not any conscience that may ever have been is ever so empowered, that’s probably in the realm of manipulative suggestion. At face value though, premise provisionally accepted, it so seemed worth remembering –
“It is the business of the very few to be independent; it is a privilege of the strong. And whoever attempts it, even with the best right, but without being OBLIGED to do so, proves that he is probably not only strong, but also daring beyond measure. He enters into a labyrinth, he multiplies a thousandfold the dangers which life in itself already brings with it; not the least of which is that no one can see how and where he loses his way, becomes isolated, and is torn piecemeal by some minotaur of conscience. Supposing such a one comes to grief, it is so far from the comprehension of men that they neither feel it, nor sympathize with it. And he cannot any longer go back! He cannot even go back again to the sympathy of men!“
Lately I’ve been experimenting with AI text to image. As of March 0f 2025 NightCafe offers tremendous capabilities. In part because of how surreal the national environment is becoming, in part because of lifelong interest in the visual arts, in part out of an interest in mythology I have been experimenting with seeing what AI can do with the mythical and the surreal. I fed the paragraph above into the text prompt and through a variety of models and got back some plausible depictions.
The language proved a little too flowery for me to get to the torn piecemeal aspect that I thought would have the most impact. I then started using some of these first generation images as starting images and tweaked the prompt to focus more on that moment of ruin. I also threw in that the scene should be depicted on a terra cotta Minoan amphora – what the heck? In for a dime, in for a dollar.
The good ones came out well enough but the ‘hallucinations’ were marvelous, getting things wrong in altogether unimagined ways.
There were many errors that tickled me, too many to post here. Minotaur as plant life growing out of amphora? It seemed only natural to roll with some of these. I took the last one and used it as a start image.
One might have a nice conversation with one’s Minotaur. There, there, be a nice Minotaur… or run away. Using nth generation images as the basis for next generations of images, there’s no real limit to where you can get albeit there’s not much steering.
What does a Minotaur do with pottery?
Perhaps she-albino Minotaurs find the fierceness of human heroes to be a thing greatly amusing.
There’s always the possibility of worshiping Minotaur mutations
or the pottery itself could become self aware and bipedal and gaze out across the surrounding ruins looking for meaning. I take this one as the AI (I don’t really personify it in my mind but enjoy some of the possibilities if one did) as the AI sharing a little bit of its personal situation.
One way to triumph over a Minotaur might be to induce it to hallucinate. Remember this when you interact with AI.
Perhaps all objectifications are like pottery, that in the definition and recognition they become ornamentalized, static, no longer really alive – and this is what we organize our lives around?
From whence is it that these Minotaurs arise, anyway. Is it spontaneous generation? Spontaneous generation in terra cotta pots?
Who said Minotaurs were the coin of the realm anyway?
Just because sometimes things seem so easy. No vinegar, using ingredients on hand (water, apple and alder smoked salt, mustard and coriander seeds, 6 cloves of garlic, a few bay leaves, black pepper, red pepper flakes).
I’ve never done this before (as if urgently confessed). Not sure about fermentation. Pickles seem buoyant. I used a nice ocean smooth piece of pink feldspar granite to keep their tops in the brine. On the third day they tasted pretty close to a decent half sour. I’ll definitely omit the red pepper flakes on subsequent batches. Crispness trailed off to some degree after that, and flavor intensified as well. Not sure if the water was salty enough. More research and experimentation clearly warranted. Also probably should get some of that calcium chloride (pickle crisp) until I know a little better what I’m doing.
This whole knowing what you’re doing thing. On the one hand, isn’t it that perpetual experimentation and discovery are the primal fun? On the other, it really has to be about the pickles to some extent. Why else thither would we go?
The child of Tamme-Lauri awakes for her third year in America. She was good for two leaves in her first appearance, and three in her second. This year the starting bid is 5, that’s encouraging, as is great stretch upward. You’ll remember her very special origins here.
Well, quiet for sure, and I guess possessed of some energy.
Early last year I came across a website that let one choose the ingredients for ones own herbal tea. Great idea. I picked out ten herbs and really liked the result. They let you save your creation so that you can reorder. I did that a few times before it sank in that for a little effort I could get a equal or greater result at 20 percent of the cost. Sure, I may be discounting the cost of effort but I feel that’s justified by otherwise unaccounted payoffs – the joy of experimenting and the learning.
A one time investment in a few mason jars seemed justified.
This frontier, of making herbal teas, is comparatively limitless. Sourcing is a huge dimension (where did the ingredient come from … was it harvested at the new or full moon, were in incantations appropriate to the desire?). Blending – the proportion of this one relative to that one. Synergies positive and negative – does this one being next to that one produce a whole greater than the sum of the parts effect? (or conversely, whole is less than the sum of the parts). Taste. Effect on state of mind and body.
As to this blend as a whole, it’s great. Warm, tasty, calming and strengthening at once, reflective.
As to the ingredients and their (perceived) noteworthy contributions I’ll start with the base. Rooibos, Honeybush, and Tulsi I’ve used equal parts, probably 40% of the whole. Warm red, no caffeine, supposedly rich in anti-oxidants. Siberian ginseng contributes an earthiness and if you believe it some rejuvenative power. I could consider shifting to Panax Ginseng on this one. Ashwagandha similarly a tonic, many believers. Chamomile calming and with a pleasant flowery bouquet. Nettle leaf I have yet to perceive any taste or benefit yet they seem to be a consistent part of the quacking cacophony of cataloged wonders. Would a voodoo doll perform differently if its head was stuffed with nettle leaves? Empiricism can answer many questions. Cardomom adds a little warmth and spice, probably unimaginable synergies as well. Milk thistle seed much as nettle leaf. Licorice root really does add a sweetness, I use sparingly therefore. Of hawthorn berries I cannot speak highly enough, so much so that also I add hawthorn berry powder. Calming and with a nice berry flavor.
Prompt – Inside the workshop of an herbalist there are apothecary jars filled with herbs as well as tied up bunches of herbs seen drying. There will be a hearth with a fire and a kettle on the hob. The herbalist will be sipping a steaming cup of herbal tea. A warm light suffuses the scene. There is something a mystical sense about the place, as if the herbalist may have come from an alchemical tradition. There is a pad on the table with some alchemical drawings and calculations
There you have it. At the top you see the humble reality. Down here you see the imagination. In this case it’s the latter driving the former. So often it is. Quiet power?
No witnesses, at least none willing to come forward. No surveillance footage. I recall hearing a ‘thwump!’ but not knowing what to make of it. The tragic injuries were discovered the next day. Forensics found no fingerprints, no shell casings. No known enemies, no motive.
Talk about blown away. He’d stood since April. This was late December. I can’t guess if he saw it coming. We are fortunate here, however, having really first class emergency services. Brick man down!
