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Solomon Wegmeyer ('27,MI)⚡️ 6'3" 220lb frame, built lower half; compact H 3/4 slot that works. Controlled tempo through the delivery w/ high intent down the slope w/ lower half - keeps hand speed through arsenal. FB explodes out of his hand w/ life through the zone, paired w/ good...

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Ryan Stedman ('26, IA) 🔋 High-waisted RHP w/ more room to fill out 6'3" 195lb frame. ++ pitch mix w/ strong shapes. Really rides down the mound w/ + extension. + command of all pitches, generates s/m w/ all. Impressive stuff w/ high ceiling. FB: 92-94 T95 mph / 2400+ rpm / 14 IVB / 12 HB CB: 79-82 mph / 2000 rpm / -5 IVB / 2 HB CH: 84-86 mph / 1500 rpm / 0 IVB / 18 HB Has been really impressive all spring. Continues to put together strong outings. Can impact the game on both sides, has shown + ability in the box. High upside, name to follow into the summer. #IASpringLeague | Iowa Baseball | Ryan Stedman | Iowa Sticks Baseball 👤
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Ryan Stedman ('26, IA) 🔋 High-waisted RHP w/ more room to fill out 6'3" 195lb frame. ++ pitch mix w/ strong shapes. Really rides down the mound w/ + extension. + command of all pitches, generates s/m w/ all. Impressive stuff w/ high ceiling. FB: 92-94 T95 mph / 2400+ rpm / 14 IVB / 12 HB CB: 79-82 mph / 2000 rpm / -5 IVB / 2 HB CH: 84-86 mph / 1500 rpm / 0 IVB / 18 HB Has been really impressive all spring. Continues to put together strong outings. Can impact the game on both sides, has shown + ability in the box. High upside, name to follow into the summer. #IASpringLeague | Iowa Baseball | Ryan Stedman | Iowa Sticks Baseball 👤

Prospect Select Scout

14,762 görüntüleme • 3 ay önce

Unsure the level of concern at the moment (1.09 FIP + 27.5 K-BB%) but I think it's worth nothing that Sanchez's FB velo is down: First 3 G (2026): • 94.4 MPH (-2.1) • 94.3 MPH (-1.5) • 94.6 MPH (-0.6) *(L: '26, R: '25)* Last year: • Sanchez was a bit more efficient w/ his hip + shoulder separation • His body was more linear, helping that center of mass move correctly. • Better lower half allowing him to keep that pelvis a bit more linear -- which is likely result of the ribcage is stacked over his pelvis + sitting in that load longer on foot strike (??) This year: • Energy is leaking from that back knee into rotation • Upper + lower working w/ each other more and less of working against one another (arm doing more than it should) • His pelvis is noticeably tipping down through rotation (not a direct cue but more of a result of less lower half activation) Angles/WBC fatigue could also be at play here as well -- but assuming they're not could be some things to clean up
0:11

Unsure the level of concern at the moment (1.09 FIP + 27.5 K-BB%) but I think it's worth nothing that Sanchez's FB velo is down: First 3 G (2026): • 94.4 MPH (-2.1) • 94.3 MPH (-1.5) • 94.6 MPH (-0.6) *(L: '26, R: '25)* Last year: • Sanchez was a bit more efficient w/ his hip + shoulder separation • His body was more linear, helping that center of mass move correctly. • Better lower half allowing him to keep that pelvis a bit more linear -- which is likely result of the ribcage is stacked over his pelvis + sitting in that load longer on foot strike (??) This year: • Energy is leaking from that back knee into rotation • Upper + lower working w/ each other more and less of working against one another (arm doing more than it should) • His pelvis is noticeably tipping down through rotation (not a direct cue but more of a result of less lower half activation) Angles/WBC fatigue could also be at play here as well -- but assuming they're not could be some things to clean up

Joseph Cammisa

43,317 görüntüleme • 4 ay önce

Today's #SaturdaySleeper is RHP Derek Vartanian (Campbell Baseball). He comes to Campbell by way of Gaston College, where last season he pitched his way to a 3.08 ERA with an impressive strikeout-to-walk ratio of 76-to-9 across 76 IP. Slender build at 6'4", 200-lbs. Short, quick arm stroke and attacks from a high-three quarter slot. Vartanian's FB will sit in the 93-96 range, but this fall he topped out at 98. Features big time carry through the zone with upwards of 24" of IVB. There is still likely more in the tank, especially with better use of his lower-half. Vartanian features two distinct breaking balls with a SL and CB. High-80s gyro SL is still developing, but at times flashes effective late, lateral movement. Low-80s CB boasts big time depth with some teeth and almost true 12-6 break. His best secondary pitch is his Splitter. It plays really well off his FB as it sits 80-82, and features big time fade to the arm side with some tumble. Vartanian does an excellent job of killing spin, and the spin rate on his changeup will get as low as 800 rpm. Vartanian this spring will anchor Campbell's rotation and be the cornerstone of the Camels pitching staff. An advanced strike thrower whose stuff will only tick up, Vartanian profiles as a starter professionally and a potential Top 5 round pick this July.
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Today's #SaturdaySleeper is RHP Derek Vartanian (Campbell Baseball). He comes to Campbell by way of Gaston College, where last season he pitched his way to a 3.08 ERA with an impressive strikeout-to-walk ratio of 76-to-9 across 76 IP. Slender build at 6'4", 200-lbs. Short, quick arm stroke and attacks from a high-three quarter slot. Vartanian's FB will sit in the 93-96 range, but this fall he topped out at 98. Features big time carry through the zone with upwards of 24" of IVB. There is still likely more in the tank, especially with better use of his lower-half. Vartanian features two distinct breaking balls with a SL and CB. High-80s gyro SL is still developing, but at times flashes effective late, lateral movement. Low-80s CB boasts big time depth with some teeth and almost true 12-6 break. His best secondary pitch is his Splitter. It plays really well off his FB as it sits 80-82, and features big time fade to the arm side with some tumble. Vartanian does an excellent job of killing spin, and the spin rate on his changeup will get as low as 800 rpm. Vartanian this spring will anchor Campbell's rotation and be the cornerstone of the Camels pitching staff. An advanced strike thrower whose stuff will only tick up, Vartanian profiles as a starter professionally and a potential Top 5 round pick this July.

Peter Flaherty III

51,398 görüntüleme • 2 yıl önce

LHP Zach Root (Arkansas Baseball) is one of the best college lefthanders in this year's Draft class. After splitting time between the bullpen and rotation as a Freshman, Root last year was a full time starter and pitched his way to a 3.56 ERA with 76 Ks to 21 BB across 68.1 IP. Slightly undersized at 6'1" and 186-pounds, but there's present strength and physicality in his lower-half. Natural funk and deception in his delivery that includes a high leg lift and some tilt in his upper-half. Average arm stroke with a slight wrist coil, attacks from a mid-three quarter (maybe a tick lower) slot with a bit of cross fire. Root's FB will sit in the 91-94 range, but it was up to 97. Will flash arm side life through the zone and is best when located on either third (arm or glove side) of the plate or in the top-half. Not a real bat-misser right now, so refining its shape should be a point of focus both this spring and beyond. Bread and butter offerings are his secondaries. Root's low-80s CH gets averaged almost 10 MPH of separation off his heater and it's a pitch he throws with conviction. Consistently flashes fade to the arm side as well as late diving life. Generated a 46% miss rate last spring, would stick a plus grade on it. High-70s-to-low-80s CB flashes big-time depth with some sharpness. 11-to-5 shape against RHH, but will be longer than it is deep against LHH. Has a decent feel for the pitch, and last season it held opposing hitters to a minuscule .048 average while generating a 48% miss rate. Rounds out his arsenal with a mid-to-upper-80s CUT/SL that against LHH will flash sweeping life with some late bite. Potentially average offering. Would like to see his strike-throwing improve this season. Day 1 profile this July. (📽️: ECU Baseball)
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LHP Zach Root (Arkansas Baseball) is one of the best college lefthanders in this year's Draft class. After splitting time between the bullpen and rotation as a Freshman, Root last year was a full time starter and pitched his way to a 3.56 ERA with 76 Ks to 21 BB across 68.1 IP. Slightly undersized at 6'1" and 186-pounds, but there's present strength and physicality in his lower-half. Natural funk and deception in his delivery that includes a high leg lift and some tilt in his upper-half. Average arm stroke with a slight wrist coil, attacks from a mid-three quarter (maybe a tick lower) slot with a bit of cross fire. Root's FB will sit in the 91-94 range, but it was up to 97. Will flash arm side life through the zone and is best when located on either third (arm or glove side) of the plate or in the top-half. Not a real bat-misser right now, so refining its shape should be a point of focus both this spring and beyond. Bread and butter offerings are his secondaries. Root's low-80s CH gets averaged almost 10 MPH of separation off his heater and it's a pitch he throws with conviction. Consistently flashes fade to the arm side as well as late diving life. Generated a 46% miss rate last spring, would stick a plus grade on it. High-70s-to-low-80s CB flashes big-time depth with some sharpness. 11-to-5 shape against RHH, but will be longer than it is deep against LHH. Has a decent feel for the pitch, and last season it held opposing hitters to a minuscule .048 average while generating a 48% miss rate. Rounds out his arsenal with a mid-to-upper-80s CUT/SL that against LHH will flash sweeping life with some late bite. Potentially average offering. Would like to see his strike-throwing improve this season. Day 1 profile this July. (📽️: ECU Baseball)

Peter Flaherty III

63,571 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

Lots of people are sleeping on Quinn Priester... I have a feeling this dude is going to make an impact with the major league club next year. Let’s talk about it. Adding velo to the sinker (SI) has been a constant emphasis since coming over via trade, and we already saw a minor increase last year. Avg SI velo (2024) 📈 • w/ PIT: 93.0 mph • w/ BOS: 93.8 mph NOTE: Remove his first two appearances where there wasn’t really any changes made, and his avg SI velo now sits at 94.2 mph. Games where SI sat 94+ mph 📈 • w/ PIT: 2 (of 23) • w/ BOS: 5 (of 10) He’s comfortably hit 96 and topped 97 mph for Worcester (seen in video attached), and has been grinding on a velo program this winter as well. Other top velos, just for fun… • FF: 96.3 mph* • SL: 92.3 mph • CU: 83.5 mph* • CH: 92 mph* • FC: 94.4 mph* *indicates top velo was w/ BOS — On top of this, we all know that Bres/Bailey & Co. love their whiff and secondary offerings. Priester took a huge step forward last year in both of these categories. Overall whiff 📈 • w/ PIT: 29.8% • w: BOS: 35.4% Arsenal whiff w/ BOS 📈 • SI: 22% • FF: 30% • FC: 42% • SL: 48% (‼️) • CU: 43%** **hot take: SI/SL combo are his carrying pitches, but his best pitch is his CH — Clearly, there’s something there. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a major usage change. Here’s what I would propose: • FA (FF/SI/FC): 46.3% ➡️ 30% - SI: 20% (“get me over” or “need it” kind of pitch; needs to be for a strike, low in zone; CH plays off it) - FC: 9% (would love to use it more, but had a limited sample size in 2024; start off as a LHH-exclusive like Garett Whitlock showcased; needs to either be elevated (tunnel w/ FF) or down+out (tunnel w/ SL) - FF: 1% (similar to what we saw Bello implement… only deploy in key situations; must be elevated) • SL: 31.8% ➡️ 35% - emphasis on gloveside target against both LHH/RHH; vs LHH, catcher sets up more middle/out - maybe try some armside vs LHH to dupe batters? • CH: 14% ➡️ 25% - best pitch results in MLB (.167 BAA, .167 SLG, 29% whiff in limited sample size) but can’t be overused - need to tunnel w/ SI… make sure low in/out of zone; see: Whitlock • CU: 8% ➡️ 10% - LHH exclusive offering, tunnels w/ elevated FC/FF - needs to miss low Overall: SI “first” for strikes with a very heavy dosage of SL/CH mixed in vs both LHH/RHH. FC/CB to LHH only. Elevated FF only in certain sequences. I’ve attached some specific videos to further emphasize my points. • Clip #1: Bogaerts whiff on CH • Clip #2: disgusting SLs to RHHs • Clip #3: Priester sinkers (T97 mph) • Clip #4: just pure nastiness Oh, and a friendly reminder: he’s just 24 years old. There is so much potential to tap into here. The stuff, for one, is there and only getting better. My favorite Red Sox pitcher right now is by far Garrett Whitlock. I see a little bit of baby Whitty in Priester’s delivery, frame, and stuff. 👀 — Alrighty, that was a lot lol. I hope everyone enjoyed. If you have questions, comments, or even player requests, feel free to reach out! I am super excited to see what Priester can do in 2025 and beyond. What do you think? ⬇️
0:20

Lots of people are sleeping on Quinn Priester... I have a feeling this dude is going to make an impact with the major league club next year. Let’s talk about it. Adding velo to the sinker (SI) has been a constant emphasis since coming over via trade, and we already saw a minor increase last year. Avg SI velo (2024) 📈 • w/ PIT: 93.0 mph • w/ BOS: 93.8 mph NOTE: Remove his first two appearances where there wasn’t really any changes made, and his avg SI velo now sits at 94.2 mph. Games where SI sat 94+ mph 📈 • w/ PIT: 2 (of 23) • w/ BOS: 5 (of 10) He’s comfortably hit 96 and topped 97 mph for Worcester (seen in video attached), and has been grinding on a velo program this winter as well. Other top velos, just for fun… • FF: 96.3 mph* • SL: 92.3 mph • CU: 83.5 mph* • CH: 92 mph* • FC: 94.4 mph* *indicates top velo was w/ BOS — On top of this, we all know that Bres/Bailey & Co. love their whiff and secondary offerings. Priester took a huge step forward last year in both of these categories. Overall whiff 📈 • w/ PIT: 29.8% • w: BOS: 35.4% Arsenal whiff w/ BOS 📈 • SI: 22% • FF: 30% • FC: 42% • SL: 48% (‼️) • CU: 43%** **hot take: SI/SL combo are his carrying pitches, but his best pitch is his CH — Clearly, there’s something there. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a major usage change. Here’s what I would propose: • FA (FF/SI/FC): 46.3% ➡️ 30% - SI: 20% (“get me over” or “need it” kind of pitch; needs to be for a strike, low in zone; CH plays off it) - FC: 9% (would love to use it more, but had a limited sample size in 2024; start off as a LHH-exclusive like Garett Whitlock showcased; needs to either be elevated (tunnel w/ FF) or down+out (tunnel w/ SL) - FF: 1% (similar to what we saw Bello implement… only deploy in key situations; must be elevated) • SL: 31.8% ➡️ 35% - emphasis on gloveside target against both LHH/RHH; vs LHH, catcher sets up more middle/out - maybe try some armside vs LHH to dupe batters? • CH: 14% ➡️ 25% - best pitch results in MLB (.167 BAA, .167 SLG, 29% whiff in limited sample size) but can’t be overused - need to tunnel w/ SI… make sure low in/out of zone; see: Whitlock • CU: 8% ➡️ 10% - LHH exclusive offering, tunnels w/ elevated FC/FF - needs to miss low Overall: SI “first” for strikes with a very heavy dosage of SL/CH mixed in vs both LHH/RHH. FC/CB to LHH only. Elevated FF only in certain sequences. I’ve attached some specific videos to further emphasize my points. • Clip #1: Bogaerts whiff on CH • Clip #2: disgusting SLs to RHHs • Clip #3: Priester sinkers (T97 mph) • Clip #4: just pure nastiness Oh, and a friendly reminder: he’s just 24 years old. There is so much potential to tap into here. The stuff, for one, is there and only getting better. My favorite Red Sox pitcher right now is by far Garrett Whitlock. I see a little bit of baby Whitty in Priester’s delivery, frame, and stuff. 👀 — Alrighty, that was a lot lol. I hope everyone enjoyed. If you have questions, comments, or even player requests, feel free to reach out! I am super excited to see what Priester can do in 2025 and beyond. What do you think? ⬇️

G.G.

54,654 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

Was very impressed on Friday by East Carolina RHP Trey Yesavage, who allowed just 1 ER and struck out 11 across 6 IP. FB sat 93-96, topped out at 97. Jumped out of the hand from his near over-the-top slot. Plenty of carry through the zone, shape of the pitch is outstanding. Control and command of it were both impressive, threw it for strikes 73% of the time. 55, borderline 60 pitch. Mixed in two distinct breaking balls with a high-70s CB and mid-80s SL. It's clear on Friday he didn't have the best feel for his CB. Threw a couple good ones that flashed plenty of depth, but it lacked its usual sharp, downward bite. Will typically flash plus. Gyro SL was a lot better. Threw it with conviction, confidence in the pitch was there. Flashed late teeth with some depth, generated 7 whiffs. Would give it a 55. I was most impressed with his SPL-CH. Got nice separation off his heater with a 10+ MPH difference. Threw it to both LHH and RHH. Flashed ultra-late tumbling life; seemingly fell off a table ~1-2 feet in front of the plate. Kills spin really well. Maintained arm speed. Looked like a plus pitch. Yesavage this year has a 1.80 ERA with 19 Ks to just 3 BB across 10 IP. He is one of the premier college arms in this year's draft class and has first round upside. (📽️: ACC Network)
0:14

Was very impressed on Friday by East Carolina RHP Trey Yesavage, who allowed just 1 ER and struck out 11 across 6 IP. FB sat 93-96, topped out at 97. Jumped out of the hand from his near over-the-top slot. Plenty of carry through the zone, shape of the pitch is outstanding. Control and command of it were both impressive, threw it for strikes 73% of the time. 55, borderline 60 pitch. Mixed in two distinct breaking balls with a high-70s CB and mid-80s SL. It's clear on Friday he didn't have the best feel for his CB. Threw a couple good ones that flashed plenty of depth, but it lacked its usual sharp, downward bite. Will typically flash plus. Gyro SL was a lot better. Threw it with conviction, confidence in the pitch was there. Flashed late teeth with some depth, generated 7 whiffs. Would give it a 55. I was most impressed with his SPL-CH. Got nice separation off his heater with a 10+ MPH difference. Threw it to both LHH and RHH. Flashed ultra-late tumbling life; seemingly fell off a table ~1-2 feet in front of the plate. Kills spin really well. Maintained arm speed. Looked like a plus pitch. Yesavage this year has a 1.80 ERA with 19 Ks to just 3 BB across 10 IP. He is one of the premier college arms in this year's draft class and has first round upside. (📽️: ACC Network)

Peter Flaherty III

65,577 görüntüleme • 2 yıl önce

RHP/1B Trace Phillips (Middle Tennessee Baseball) is an interesting draft-eligible sophomore on which to keep close tabs. Last spring, he hit .304/.360/.547 with 8 2B, 13 HR and 47 RBIs, but it’s his ability on the mound that's the root of his buzz. Phillips' back of the baseball card numbers last season are modest, but there is more to it than meets the eye. At 6'3" and 185-lbs, Phillips has an athletic, high-waisted frame. In the box, he has a simple setup with an ear-high handset and the bat horizontal above his back shoulder. Phillips has a slight load in which he has a noticeable barrel tip and a small stride. He moves well in the box and has some scissor action with his back leg. Phillips’ pure hit tool is fringey, but he has plus raw power and has shown the ability to drive the baseball to all fields. Max EV last spring of 109.4, if he's able to lift the ball more it will lead to a more impressive power output. Phillips’ current prospect status is largely driven by his ability on the mound. His numbers were unimpressive last season, but he took a step forward this fall. There’s some low hanging fruit to clean up in his delivery, but he has a short, whippy arm stroke and attacks from a low-three quarters slot with plenty of arm speed. Phillips’ FB has been up to 96 with ride through the zone (particular life at the top), though his best pitch is a high-70s-to-low-80s CH. He does a nice job of killing spin on it, and It averaged almost 15 MPH off his fastball this fall. It’s a plus pitch that flashes both fade to the arm side as well late tumble. Phillips completes his arsenal with a mid-80s slider that flashed above-average this fall with sharp, two-plane tilt. Both his changeup and slider profile as legitimate swing-and-miss offerings. Another positive development with Phillips this fall is that his strike-throwing took a step in the right direction. Mid-4th-6th round type this July. (📽️: Middle Tennessee Baseball)
0:14

RHP/1B Trace Phillips (Middle Tennessee Baseball) is an interesting draft-eligible sophomore on which to keep close tabs. Last spring, he hit .304/.360/.547 with 8 2B, 13 HR and 47 RBIs, but it’s his ability on the mound that's the root of his buzz. Phillips' back of the baseball card numbers last season are modest, but there is more to it than meets the eye. At 6'3" and 185-lbs, Phillips has an athletic, high-waisted frame. In the box, he has a simple setup with an ear-high handset and the bat horizontal above his back shoulder. Phillips has a slight load in which he has a noticeable barrel tip and a small stride. He moves well in the box and has some scissor action with his back leg. Phillips’ pure hit tool is fringey, but he has plus raw power and has shown the ability to drive the baseball to all fields. Max EV last spring of 109.4, if he's able to lift the ball more it will lead to a more impressive power output. Phillips’ current prospect status is largely driven by his ability on the mound. His numbers were unimpressive last season, but he took a step forward this fall. There’s some low hanging fruit to clean up in his delivery, but he has a short, whippy arm stroke and attacks from a low-three quarters slot with plenty of arm speed. Phillips’ FB has been up to 96 with ride through the zone (particular life at the top), though his best pitch is a high-70s-to-low-80s CH. He does a nice job of killing spin on it, and It averaged almost 15 MPH off his fastball this fall. It’s a plus pitch that flashes both fade to the arm side as well late tumble. Phillips completes his arsenal with a mid-80s slider that flashed above-average this fall with sharp, two-plane tilt. Both his changeup and slider profile as legitimate swing-and-miss offerings. Another positive development with Phillips this fall is that his strike-throwing took a step in the right direction. Mid-4th-6th round type this July. (📽️: Middle Tennessee Baseball)

Peter Flaherty III

10,984 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

RHP Cole Leaman (Lehigh Baseball) is an arm I'm really looking forward to following this spring. Fresh off a strong Sophomore season in which he worked a 2.31 ERA with 49 Ks to 23 BB across 46.2 IP. Showed some positive flashes on the Cape. While slightly undersized, Leaman has a strong and athletic build at 6' and 190-lbs. Has put on a lot of good weight over the last couple of years. Leaman has almost a "check point" delivery in which he takes a noticeable side step towards the 1B side, gathers himself and breaks into the rest of his motion. Lengthy arm stroke and attacks from a high-3/4 slot from a low release height. Leaman is a high-level athlete and a dynamic mover on the mound. Sits really well on his back glute and his lead leg block enables him to generate power and drive his back side through. Drop and drive delivery. Little bit of effort, but plenty of arm speed. Leaman's FB sits in the 91-94 range, but it was up to 96 this summer and 98 this fall. Jumps out of his hand from a ~5'3" release height and flashes riding life through the zone. Averaged 15" of carry this summer and 2,361 RPMs. Gets over the barrels of opposing hitters when located in the top-1/2 of the zone, which is where the pitch is at its best. Command can be erratic at times. Would give it a 55. Leaman's most-used off speed pitch is a high-70s-to-low-80s CB. Shape is inconsistent and it can get a little slurvy at times, but he snapped off a handful of really good ones between the spring and summer. When it's at its best, it will flash a bigger shape with sharp, downward tilt. Leaman will also mix in a low-to-mid-80s SL that's distinct in shape. Another pitch he's still gaining a feel for, but like his CB it's also shown big time flashes. Shape of it will vary, but it will sometimes flash plus with sharp, two-plane break (more sweep than depth) and essentially take a late, hard left turn. Rounds out his arsenal with a high-80s cutter and a mid-to-high-80s CH. The former is more intriguing than the latter. Curious to see how much he uses the cutter this spring, threw a couple this summer that had late glove-side life. Leaman has a very intriguing blend of athleticism and stuff, though he'll need to iron out his command and control in order to maximize his upside. As mentioned, it's a bit scattered right now and has hindered him in some starts. 5th-8th round type this July. (📽️: Falmouth Commodores)
0:19

RHP Cole Leaman (Lehigh Baseball) is an arm I'm really looking forward to following this spring. Fresh off a strong Sophomore season in which he worked a 2.31 ERA with 49 Ks to 23 BB across 46.2 IP. Showed some positive flashes on the Cape. While slightly undersized, Leaman has a strong and athletic build at 6' and 190-lbs. Has put on a lot of good weight over the last couple of years. Leaman has almost a "check point" delivery in which he takes a noticeable side step towards the 1B side, gathers himself and breaks into the rest of his motion. Lengthy arm stroke and attacks from a high-3/4 slot from a low release height. Leaman is a high-level athlete and a dynamic mover on the mound. Sits really well on his back glute and his lead leg block enables him to generate power and drive his back side through. Drop and drive delivery. Little bit of effort, but plenty of arm speed. Leaman's FB sits in the 91-94 range, but it was up to 96 this summer and 98 this fall. Jumps out of his hand from a ~5'3" release height and flashes riding life through the zone. Averaged 15" of carry this summer and 2,361 RPMs. Gets over the barrels of opposing hitters when located in the top-1/2 of the zone, which is where the pitch is at its best. Command can be erratic at times. Would give it a 55. Leaman's most-used off speed pitch is a high-70s-to-low-80s CB. Shape is inconsistent and it can get a little slurvy at times, but he snapped off a handful of really good ones between the spring and summer. When it's at its best, it will flash a bigger shape with sharp, downward tilt. Leaman will also mix in a low-to-mid-80s SL that's distinct in shape. Another pitch he's still gaining a feel for, but like his CB it's also shown big time flashes. Shape of it will vary, but it will sometimes flash plus with sharp, two-plane break (more sweep than depth) and essentially take a late, hard left turn. Rounds out his arsenal with a high-80s cutter and a mid-to-high-80s CH. The former is more intriguing than the latter. Curious to see how much he uses the cutter this spring, threw a couple this summer that had late glove-side life. Leaman has a very intriguing blend of athleticism and stuff, though he'll need to iron out his command and control in order to maximize his upside. As mentioned, it's a bit scattered right now and has hindered him in some starts. 5th-8th round type this July. (📽️: Falmouth Commodores)

Peter Flaherty III

26,714 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

From a sheer stuff standpoint, RHP Cam Leiter (FSU Baseball) has one of the loudest arsenals in this year's Draft class. Was a member of the AAC All-Freshman team selection in 2023 after posting a 4.92 ERA with 80 Ks across 56.2 IP. Leiter's first season at FSU was cut short due to injury, though he showed big time flashes in his 7 starts (35 innings). Worked a 4.63 ERA with 56 Ks to 22 BB. Leiter has a high-waisted, prototypical pitcher's frame at 6'5" and 234-pounds. Has added physicality year-over-year. Compact and explosive delivery with big time arm speed. Attacks from a three-quarter slot with a low release height. Dynamic mover, blocks well with his lead leg and really drives his back hip through. Powerful! Fastball sits in the 94-96 range, but has been up to 99. Jumps out of the hand from his ~5'10" release height and flashes riding life through the zone. Plays up—and is at its best—when located in the top-half of the zone. Also where it gets the most whiffs, and last year it generated a 30% miss rate. Improved command of the offering will make it that much more effective. 55 right now. His most used breaking ball is a high-70s-to-low-80s CB. Plenty of depth with sharp, downward teeth. Almost a true 12-to-6 shape. Will use it against both right and lefthanded hitters, and last year it held opposing hitters to a minuscule .071 average. Generated an impressive 46% miss rate, it's a 60 right now. Leiter's upper-80s-to-low-90s power SL is another effective off-speed offering. Late lateral tilt with some depth, will throw it almost exclusively to RHH. Another pitch that flashes plus, and last year it garnered a 38% miss rate. He threw it just 11% of the time in '24, but Leiter also features an upper-80s-to-low-90s CH. Ample fade to the arm side, though at times it will have more tumbling life than fade. Not to sound like a broken record, but Leiter's CH also flashes plus. 44% miss rate last season. Throws it with conviction. If you catch Leiter on the right day, you could leave the yard with a 55 and three 60s on his pitch mix. The two biggest keys for Leiter will be taking a step forward in the pitchability department—which in turn will make his arsenal that much better—and staying healthy. He certainly has first round upside this July. (🎥: FSU Baseball)
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From a sheer stuff standpoint, RHP Cam Leiter (FSU Baseball) has one of the loudest arsenals in this year's Draft class. Was a member of the AAC All-Freshman team selection in 2023 after posting a 4.92 ERA with 80 Ks across 56.2 IP. Leiter's first season at FSU was cut short due to injury, though he showed big time flashes in his 7 starts (35 innings). Worked a 4.63 ERA with 56 Ks to 22 BB. Leiter has a high-waisted, prototypical pitcher's frame at 6'5" and 234-pounds. Has added physicality year-over-year. Compact and explosive delivery with big time arm speed. Attacks from a three-quarter slot with a low release height. Dynamic mover, blocks well with his lead leg and really drives his back hip through. Powerful! Fastball sits in the 94-96 range, but has been up to 99. Jumps out of the hand from his ~5'10" release height and flashes riding life through the zone. Plays up—and is at its best—when located in the top-half of the zone. Also where it gets the most whiffs, and last year it generated a 30% miss rate. Improved command of the offering will make it that much more effective. 55 right now. His most used breaking ball is a high-70s-to-low-80s CB. Plenty of depth with sharp, downward teeth. Almost a true 12-to-6 shape. Will use it against both right and lefthanded hitters, and last year it held opposing hitters to a minuscule .071 average. Generated an impressive 46% miss rate, it's a 60 right now. Leiter's upper-80s-to-low-90s power SL is another effective off-speed offering. Late lateral tilt with some depth, will throw it almost exclusively to RHH. Another pitch that flashes plus, and last year it garnered a 38% miss rate. He threw it just 11% of the time in '24, but Leiter also features an upper-80s-to-low-90s CH. Ample fade to the arm side, though at times it will have more tumbling life than fade. Not to sound like a broken record, but Leiter's CH also flashes plus. 44% miss rate last season. Throws it with conviction. If you catch Leiter on the right day, you could leave the yard with a 55 and three 60s on his pitch mix. The two biggest keys for Leiter will be taking a step forward in the pitchability department—which in turn will make his arsenal that much better—and staying healthy. He certainly has first round upside this July. (🎥: FSU Baseball)

Peter Flaherty III

25,238 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

LHP Andrew Healy (Duke Baseball) is one of my favorite Sophomore-eligible arms in this year's Draft. Enjoyed an outstanding true Freshman campaign in '23, pitching his way to a 2.32 ERA with 45 K to just 7 BB across 42.2 IP. Great body at 6'6" and 200-lbs. High-waisted with room to fill out. Smooth, aesthetically pleasing operation on the mound. Clean arm stroke and hides the ball well. Attacks from mid-three quarter slot. Pretty low effort delivery. Healy's FB will mostly sit in the 90-93 range, but he has been up to 94/95. It gets on hitters quick and plays particularly well on his arm side/elevated. Little bit of carry to it. Healy has plus command and control of it. His go-to secondary offering is a high-70s CH that on average is 10+ MPH off his FB. Healy maintains his arm speed well and it features serious late tumbling life. Had a 40% miss rate in '23. Would put a 55 on it. Healy features two distinct breaking balls in a high-70s SL and mid-70s CB. SL has long, sweeping action and is particularly deadly against LHH. After throwing it just 5% of the time in '23, Healy this fall has upped his CB usage. It's an okay 4th pitch and at times will flash some depth. Perhaps most interesting about Healy's profile is his ability to generate swings. Last year he posted a 48% overall swing rate and an impressive 70% in-zone swing rate. Overall control/command would grade out as a 60. Healy is a slam dunk starter professionally and could pitch his way into a top-3/4 round Draft choice. (📽️: Duke Baseball)
0:15

LHP Andrew Healy (Duke Baseball) is one of my favorite Sophomore-eligible arms in this year's Draft. Enjoyed an outstanding true Freshman campaign in '23, pitching his way to a 2.32 ERA with 45 K to just 7 BB across 42.2 IP. Great body at 6'6" and 200-lbs. High-waisted with room to fill out. Smooth, aesthetically pleasing operation on the mound. Clean arm stroke and hides the ball well. Attacks from mid-three quarter slot. Pretty low effort delivery. Healy's FB will mostly sit in the 90-93 range, but he has been up to 94/95. It gets on hitters quick and plays particularly well on his arm side/elevated. Little bit of carry to it. Healy has plus command and control of it. His go-to secondary offering is a high-70s CH that on average is 10+ MPH off his FB. Healy maintains his arm speed well and it features serious late tumbling life. Had a 40% miss rate in '23. Would put a 55 on it. Healy features two distinct breaking balls in a high-70s SL and mid-70s CB. SL has long, sweeping action and is particularly deadly against LHH. After throwing it just 5% of the time in '23, Healy this fall has upped his CB usage. It's an okay 4th pitch and at times will flash some depth. Perhaps most interesting about Healy's profile is his ability to generate swings. Last year he posted a 48% overall swing rate and an impressive 70% in-zone swing rate. Overall control/command would grade out as a 60. Healy is a slam dunk starter professionally and could pitch his way into a top-3/4 round Draft choice. (📽️: Duke Baseball)

Peter Flaherty III

42,840 görüntüleme • 2 yıl önce

RHP Jacob Mayers (LSU Baseball) is an interesting arm in this year's Draft class. Was outstanding as a true Freshman and pitched his way to a 2.02 ERA with 105 Ks to 58 BB across 75.2 innings en route to taking home Southland Conference Pitcher of the Year honors and being named a First Team Freshman All-American. Took a bit of a step back in 2024 and compiled a 4.58 ERA with an SLC-leading 106 Ks to go along with 76 BB in 70.2 IP. Mayers has a projectable, high-waisted frame at 6'5" and 205-pounds. He doesn't have the cleanest or simplest delivery and he'll struggle to repeat it at times. Mayers has a somewhat abbreviated arm stroke and attacks from an over-the-top slot with present arm speed. Front side will sometimes fly open which has led to command issues, but there's some pretty low hanging fruit to clean up in his operation going forward (Ex: getting more into his lower-half, refining it to become more repeatable). Adding strength and explosiveness will be key. Mayers' fastball is his bread-and-butter pitch. It sits in the 92-95 range, but has been up to 97 out of an outlandish 7-foot release height. His release height is certainly a contributing factor here, but the pitch also averaged an eye-popping 24.3" of ride and nearly 2,400 rpm. Mayers threw his heater a whopping 91% of the time and was still able to generate a 35% whiff rate, including a 30% (!) IZ whiff rate, on it. There are plenty of outlier traits, but his command is below-average. If he can up his competitive pitch % and stay in and around the zone on a more consistent basis, it will make it that much more effective. While his FB is the money-maker of his arsenal, Mayers will occasionally mix in a gyro SL in the low-80s that lacks teeth right now. He's still gaining a feel for the pitch and there is work to be done on it going forward, but it could be a potentially above-average offering in the future. 40/45 currently. One of the biggest question marks with Mayers is the development of a third pitch. He mixed in a handful of mid-to-upper-80s and a couple piqued my interest; one showed some fade to the arm side and another flashed late tumbling life. It's clear he isn't comfortable throwing it yet, but this could be the pitch to develop at least to the point where it's serviceable. Mayers right now is very much a work in progress and all signs right now point to him ending up in a relief role long term. However, he's a very fun, moldable ball of clay to try and develop and get the most out of. As the low hanging fruit continues to get cleaned up—whether it be at LSU or in pro ball—polish will hopefully follow. 5th-8th round pick right now. (📽️: Nicholls Baseball)
0:15

RHP Jacob Mayers (LSU Baseball) is an interesting arm in this year's Draft class. Was outstanding as a true Freshman and pitched his way to a 2.02 ERA with 105 Ks to 58 BB across 75.2 innings en route to taking home Southland Conference Pitcher of the Year honors and being named a First Team Freshman All-American. Took a bit of a step back in 2024 and compiled a 4.58 ERA with an SLC-leading 106 Ks to go along with 76 BB in 70.2 IP. Mayers has a projectable, high-waisted frame at 6'5" and 205-pounds. He doesn't have the cleanest or simplest delivery and he'll struggle to repeat it at times. Mayers has a somewhat abbreviated arm stroke and attacks from an over-the-top slot with present arm speed. Front side will sometimes fly open which has led to command issues, but there's some pretty low hanging fruit to clean up in his operation going forward (Ex: getting more into his lower-half, refining it to become more repeatable). Adding strength and explosiveness will be key. Mayers' fastball is his bread-and-butter pitch. It sits in the 92-95 range, but has been up to 97 out of an outlandish 7-foot release height. His release height is certainly a contributing factor here, but the pitch also averaged an eye-popping 24.3" of ride and nearly 2,400 rpm. Mayers threw his heater a whopping 91% of the time and was still able to generate a 35% whiff rate, including a 30% (!) IZ whiff rate, on it. There are plenty of outlier traits, but his command is below-average. If he can up his competitive pitch % and stay in and around the zone on a more consistent basis, it will make it that much more effective. While his FB is the money-maker of his arsenal, Mayers will occasionally mix in a gyro SL in the low-80s that lacks teeth right now. He's still gaining a feel for the pitch and there is work to be done on it going forward, but it could be a potentially above-average offering in the future. 40/45 currently. One of the biggest question marks with Mayers is the development of a third pitch. He mixed in a handful of mid-to-upper-80s and a couple piqued my interest; one showed some fade to the arm side and another flashed late tumbling life. It's clear he isn't comfortable throwing it yet, but this could be the pitch to develop at least to the point where it's serviceable. Mayers right now is very much a work in progress and all signs right now point to him ending up in a relief role long term. However, he's a very fun, moldable ball of clay to try and develop and get the most out of. As the low hanging fruit continues to get cleaned up—whether it be at LSU or in pro ball—polish will hopefully follow. 5th-8th round pick right now. (📽️: Nicholls Baseball)

Peter Flaherty III

43,312 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

DIRECTED ENERGY WEAPONS (DEWs) While typical civilian access to DEW technology is hyper limited, AI gives more insight into the reality of Directed Energy Weapons as used in combat. However, this is not a very comprehensive snapshot of what DEW munitions really are. First, they are not lasers, but rather known as sasers (sound outside of human audible range) that delivers more than just excited photons as per lasers, but envelopes microwave radiation delivered through linear particle accelerators and amplified by square-wave (jackhammer) ultrasonic concussion exceeding 20,000 pulses per second, where each impact doubles in energy through secondary emissions for every pulse. Secondary emissions are created on-the-spot through Neutrino Events that harvests brand-new energy directly out of atmospheric neutrinos, turning them into new ions. Hence why saser beams deliver more energy to the target than anything short of a nuclear blast. DEWs also actively draw energy out of surrounding capacitors at the scene of the target as well as from local sources in the path of the beam. Microwaves excite the electrons within the target structure, such as car batteries and the electric wires inside homes, that causes additional increase in amplitude. Since the energy being siphoned off is focused in the zero point of the beam, that area creates dual opposing twin vortices at zero target forming a hyperbola in the center of the affected area where the energy collapses in on itself, sucking oxygen out of the air which then amplifies the thermal radiation only within that toroidal vortex area, achieving crucible-level temperatures in an open-air setting. This is hyper-accelerated by the coupling of the SBX-1 mobile Vortex generator that delivers oxygen to the strike zone with hyper-focused accuracy at up to 70+ MPH winds. Which is why target zones see hurricane winds out of nowhere and from clear skies without any clouds. DEWs generate temperatures that are vastly higher than normal house or forest fires; 1200F and 1500F respectively. A self-imploding DEW saser strike can generate thermal signatures high enough to burn terracotta roofing tiles (2100F), melt glass (2900F), and vaporize stucco walls that are rated to hold up for 1 HOUR under direct torch flame, rendering it to tiny traces of powder. Even the concrete slab foundations of homes in the Santa Rosa fire of 2017 had been incinerated and literally gone as if evaporated into the air. Since the air surrounding the strike zone becomes immediately depleted, fire will not be readily sustained anywhere outside of the hyperbola area (just the home or automobile), leaving brush, trees, plastic, within just a few feet away barely seared and, in many cases, totally unscathed altogether. Houses that incinerate all the way down to ash within minutes will leave no soot, or flame marks on white-painted homes as little as ten feet away as if there was no heat or fire present of any kind. It is important to note that a normal house fire takes 3-4 hours to burn down, leaving large portions of the home and contents behind unconsumed. DEW crucible vortex fires consumed homes down to nothing but white ash in Santa Rosa, incinerated within 20 minutes that I observed after pounding on doors in one residential neighborhood of 2 story homes at 2:30 in the morning screaming to get out, then returning to that same location less than a half hour later, with nothing left but smoldering ash. There is nothing ‘normal’ about DEW remains. Kitchen stoves, pots and pans, washers, dryers, water heaters simply vanished. The cast-iron engines in cars just gone with their aluminum alloy wheels and windows melted on the street. Since DEW sasers work through the delivery of microwaves (that are radioactive) through encapsulation within tachyons (like protective bubbles), the resulting debris fields of target areas are also left contaminated, similar to the aftermath of nuclear detonation sites. The sites where homes once stood in the Santa Rosa fire for instance, had to have the soil under the vaporized concrete slabs excavated and stored in radiation containment casks before any new construction could resume, as reported by locals there that were involved in the cleanup. The Lahaina target homes in Maui are still blocked off with absolutely no entrance for any reason for this same reason almost a year and a half later. DEWs have been seen pulling massive arcs from lightning strikes, obviously generated by the extreme excitation of atmospheric particles of the beam, as well as from overhead electrical wires that supercharge the phonon shafts that are invisible to the naked eye unless backlit from flame or sparks. This technology has been shown to cut full size military ships in half from high altitude delivery systems in seconds, rendering all previous forms of explosive armaments, including nuclear warheads, obsolete. All the military weapons delivered from the US and other countries to Ukraine in recent years were outdated and considered unusable in a genuine modern conflict and were therefore literally being disposed of to make room for other, newer forms of weaponry in armories here at home. In other words, they were merely junk. US dark and black ops have had functioning DEW assault systems in place for many decades already. While AI admits to Turkey using them in combat in 2019, the real date of deployment of DEWs goes back more than just centuries, but prior to humans' arrival to earth in 560m BC. A recent use of DEWs shown here from the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. An even more recent DEW ‘Tara Cleansing’ as they’re called, was the Great San Francisco Fire of 1906 that was blamed on a 7.9 earthquake. And yes, the HAARP SBX-1 hurricane generator is also an earthquake generator as well. None of this is new tech, just new to you. Satellite and antigravity drone delivery of such weapons are entirely remotely-controlled, placing no mil soldiers' lives on the line to mount a siege, making military battlefield loss of life virtually a thing of the past at this time. VIDEO: DEW ATTACK PACIFIC PALISADES 1/8/25 gratis Kyle Zink
0:10

DIRECTED ENERGY WEAPONS (DEWs) While typical civilian access to DEW technology is hyper limited, AI gives more insight into the reality of Directed Energy Weapons as used in combat. However, this is not a very comprehensive snapshot of what DEW munitions really are. First, they are not lasers, but rather known as sasers (sound outside of human audible range) that delivers more than just excited photons as per lasers, but envelopes microwave radiation delivered through linear particle accelerators and amplified by square-wave (jackhammer) ultrasonic concussion exceeding 20,000 pulses per second, where each impact doubles in energy through secondary emissions for every pulse. Secondary emissions are created on-the-spot through Neutrino Events that harvests brand-new energy directly out of atmospheric neutrinos, turning them into new ions. Hence why saser beams deliver more energy to the target than anything short of a nuclear blast. DEWs also actively draw energy out of surrounding capacitors at the scene of the target as well as from local sources in the path of the beam. Microwaves excite the electrons within the target structure, such as car batteries and the electric wires inside homes, that causes additional increase in amplitude. Since the energy being siphoned off is focused in the zero point of the beam, that area creates dual opposing twin vortices at zero target forming a hyperbola in the center of the affected area where the energy collapses in on itself, sucking oxygen out of the air which then amplifies the thermal radiation only within that toroidal vortex area, achieving crucible-level temperatures in an open-air setting. This is hyper-accelerated by the coupling of the SBX-1 mobile Vortex generator that delivers oxygen to the strike zone with hyper-focused accuracy at up to 70+ MPH winds. Which is why target zones see hurricane winds out of nowhere and from clear skies without any clouds. DEWs generate temperatures that are vastly higher than normal house or forest fires; 1200F and 1500F respectively. A self-imploding DEW saser strike can generate thermal signatures high enough to burn terracotta roofing tiles (2100F), melt glass (2900F), and vaporize stucco walls that are rated to hold up for 1 HOUR under direct torch flame, rendering it to tiny traces of powder. Even the concrete slab foundations of homes in the Santa Rosa fire of 2017 had been incinerated and literally gone as if evaporated into the air. Since the air surrounding the strike zone becomes immediately depleted, fire will not be readily sustained anywhere outside of the hyperbola area (just the home or automobile), leaving brush, trees, plastic, within just a few feet away barely seared and, in many cases, totally unscathed altogether. Houses that incinerate all the way down to ash within minutes will leave no soot, or flame marks on white-painted homes as little as ten feet away as if there was no heat or fire present of any kind. It is important to note that a normal house fire takes 3-4 hours to burn down, leaving large portions of the home and contents behind unconsumed. DEW crucible vortex fires consumed homes down to nothing but white ash in Santa Rosa, incinerated within 20 minutes that I observed after pounding on doors in one residential neighborhood of 2 story homes at 2:30 in the morning screaming to get out, then returning to that same location less than a half hour later, with nothing left but smoldering ash. There is nothing ‘normal’ about DEW remains. Kitchen stoves, pots and pans, washers, dryers, water heaters simply vanished. The cast-iron engines in cars just gone with their aluminum alloy wheels and windows melted on the street. Since DEW sasers work through the delivery of microwaves (that are radioactive) through encapsulation within tachyons (like protective bubbles), the resulting debris fields of target areas are also left contaminated, similar to the aftermath of nuclear detonation sites. The sites where homes once stood in the Santa Rosa fire for instance, had to have the soil under the vaporized concrete slabs excavated and stored in radiation containment casks before any new construction could resume, as reported by locals there that were involved in the cleanup. The Lahaina target homes in Maui are still blocked off with absolutely no entrance for any reason for this same reason almost a year and a half later. DEWs have been seen pulling massive arcs from lightning strikes, obviously generated by the extreme excitation of atmospheric particles of the beam, as well as from overhead electrical wires that supercharge the phonon shafts that are invisible to the naked eye unless backlit from flame or sparks. This technology has been shown to cut full size military ships in half from high altitude delivery systems in seconds, rendering all previous forms of explosive armaments, including nuclear warheads, obsolete. All the military weapons delivered from the US and other countries to Ukraine in recent years were outdated and considered unusable in a genuine modern conflict and were therefore literally being disposed of to make room for other, newer forms of weaponry in armories here at home. In other words, they were merely junk. US dark and black ops have had functioning DEW assault systems in place for many decades already. While AI admits to Turkey using them in combat in 2019, the real date of deployment of DEWs goes back more than just centuries, but prior to humans' arrival to earth in 560m BC. A recent use of DEWs shown here from the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. An even more recent DEW ‘Tara Cleansing’ as they’re called, was the Great San Francisco Fire of 1906 that was blamed on a 7.9 earthquake. And yes, the HAARP SBX-1 hurricane generator is also an earthquake generator as well. None of this is new tech, just new to you. Satellite and antigravity drone delivery of such weapons are entirely remotely-controlled, placing no mil soldiers' lives on the line to mount a siege, making military battlefield loss of life virtually a thing of the past at this time. VIDEO: DEW ATTACK PACIFIC PALISADES 1/8/25 gratis Kyle Zink

W.R. Schock, QBD

624,084 görüntüleme • 1 yıl önce

Seedance 2.0 on Higgsfield AI The visual fidelity and scene consistency bring this pirate adventure to life like never before.Every cut feels intentional immersive and ready for the big screen. Full open sourced prompts & assets below: SCENE CONTEXT Bright day at sea aboard a sailing galleon. Captain Eduardo bursts out of the sterncastle door onto the deck; his scarlet macaw lands on his LEFT shoulder mid-stride. He runs up to the quarterdeck where a lookout crewman watches the horizon through a brass spyglass, takes the spyglass and looks himself: a distant island, and a violent optical crash zoom finds a small futuristic hard case on the beach. Then a second crewman runs up, grabs his arm and points the OTHER way, astern — Eduardo turns: a black-sailed pirate ship very far behind them, a speck on the horizon. He does not raise the spyglass — he just stands and stares at the distant black sails, holding the look. ACTIVE REFERENCES >> — lean pirate captain, dark curly hair falling free from under a dusty mustard-yellow cloth bandana, a small white shark tooth pinned to the front of the bandana above his temple, thin moustache, gold hoop earrings, cream linen shirt under a worn brown leather waistcoat, cloth sash and leather belts. 100% matches the reference; studio sheet layout NOT inherited. >> — scarlet macaw, red body, blue-and-yellow wing feathers, small leather shoulder harness. 100% matches the reference; it flies in and rides Eduardo's left shoulder. >> — weathered pirate crewmen from the reference group (bandana, rough shirt, vest). 100% match the reference; TWO of them appear: the lookout at the quarterdeck rail, and a second runner who arrives in CUT 4 pointing astern. >> — collapsible brass spyglass with dark leather-wrapped barrel sections. 100% matches the reference; starts in the lookout's hands, ends at Eduardo's eye. >> — Eduardo's galleon: pale square sails, tall wooden sterncastle, raised quarterdeck. 100% matches the reference; controls hull, deck, masts and rigging only. >> — calm bright sea, glittering sun path, hazy horizon. Controls water and sky atmosphere only. >> — small lone island: dense dark-green jungle cover, a curved white-sand beach on one side, grey rocky cliff edges, turquoise shallows ringing the shore. 100% matches the reference; it is the island seen on the horizon and inside the spyglass view. >> — small futuristic hard case: matte-black armored corners, neon acid-green side panels, brushed-steel top plate with a glowing green star-shaped button. 100% matches the reference; it appears ONLY inside the zoomed spyglass view of CUT 3, lying on the beach. >> — enemy pirate galleon: black sails, acid-green skull-and-crossed-swords on the mainsail, dark carved hull. 100% matches the reference; revealed VERY far astern in CUT 4 as a tiny silhouette on the horizon — never seen closer in this beat. LOCATION MAP >> under sail on >>, open bright sea. The sterncastle door opens onto the main deck; a short wooden stair leads up to the quarterdeck at the stern. The lookout stands at the quarterdeck rail on the forward side, spyglass raised toward the horizon screen-right. Far on that horizon, 2–3 km out: >> — dense green jungle mass, the white-sand beach catching the sun on its near side, turquoise water at its shore. In the OPPOSITE direction, astern of the ship screen-left: open sea where >> rides VERY FAR OFF — 4–5 km out, right on the horizon line, a tiny dark silhouette almost dissolved in the haze — present in the world from the start, revealed to the camera only in CUT 4. Haze visible at the horizon distance. Sun high, sea glitter everywhere. FIRST FRAME / BLOCKING First frame: the sterncastle door already swinging open, >> mid-stride through it onto the deck, body angled toward the quarterdeck stair screen-right. Crew activity in the background of the deck. The lookout is visible up on the quarterdeck at the rail, spyglass already at his eye, pointed screen-right toward the horizon. FORMAT MODE Sequence of cuts, no timecodes — cuts only at the specified points, the camera does not cut on its own. CUT 1 — 63° handheld follow: the door bursts open, Eduardo comes out in a strange hurried scurry — up on TIPTOE, quick tiny mincing steps, both arms half-raised in front of him with elbows out, hands hovering at chest height, shoulders slightly hunched — comically odd, but FAST, covering the deck at 10 km/h. >> sweeps in from off-frame upper-right, wings braking, and lands on his left shoulder without breaking the scurry. He tiptoe-rushes across the deck and up the quarterdeck stair; the camera chases behind-left, half a beat late. CUT 2 — MS, 47°, on the quarterdeck: the lookout at the rail with >> raised. Eduardo arrives frame-left, the scarlet macaw >> sitting clearly visible ON HIS LEFT SHOULDER through the whole cut. With his RIGHT hand he grabs the spyglass out of the lookout's hands in one firm motion and raises it right-handed to his RIGHT eye toward the horizon screen-right, left eye squeezing shut. The lookout yields a step. CUT 3 — SPYGLASS POV, MONOCULAR: one single round image — the view through ONE lens of a telescope, a single circle centered in frame, black around it. This is a one-eyed spyglass view, never the twin overlapping circles of binoculars. Extreme telephoto image swaying with a hand-held tremor, compressed haze layers stacking toward the island. Distant >> sits small in the circle: dark-green jungle, the curved white-sand beach, turquoise shallows, heat haze. Hold 1 second — then a RAPID CRASH ZOOM, one continuous accelerating optical dive down to the waterline of the beach: >> lying on the wet sand, black-and-acid-green case, steel top plate, green star button glinting. The zoom lands and locks on the case filling half the circle. Hold. CUT 4 — MS, 47°: Eduardo lowering the spyglass, macaw on his left shoulder — a second crewman from >> runs into frame from screen-left, grabs Eduardo's arm and jabs his finger the OTHER way, astern, screen-left, shouting over the wind: "CAP'N! BEHIND US!" — and the macaw on Eduardo's shoulder instantly screams it back in a harsh parrot voice: "BEHIND US! BEHIND US!", wings half-flaring. Eduardo whips around following the point; the camera racks past his shoulder — REVEAL deep in the frame: >> VERY far astern, a TINY black silhouette sitting right on the horizon line — smaller in the frame than Eduardo's fist, under 5% of the frame height, barely bigger than a speck, half-swallowed by haze — but the black sails read unmistakably. Vast empty water fills everything between the rail and that distant speck. Eduardo does NOT raise the spyglass — it stays lowered in his right hand. He simply STANDS and STARES at the tiny black sails, motionless, eyes locked on the horizon. The cut ends on his long look toward the enemy ship against the empty sea. OPTICS CUT 1: 63° observational wide, handheld. CUT 2: 47° neutral. CUT 3: monocular spyglass optics — ONE single circular image (a one-lens telescope, never the twin circles of binoculars), tele compression as at 8°, soft edge inside the circle; the crash zoom is purely optical, horizon compressing, haze layers stacking. CUT 4: 47° neutral with a rack to the deep background on the reveal, then holding on Eduardo's profile against the horizon. No drift mid-segment. CAMERA Handheld operator character throughout the real-world cuts: chases the run at deck level in CUT 1 with visible footstep energy, settles to a 1–2 cm breath on the quarterdeck. Camera stays on the shadow side of Eduardo, sun working across from screen-right. The POV cut carries a hand-tremor sway of 1–2 cm that calms when the zoom locks on the case. ACTION Door kicks open from inside. Eduardo's gait in CUT 1 is deliberately odd: he rushes on the balls of his feet, heels never touching the planks, tiny fast tiptoe steps, arms half-raised with hands floating in front of his chest — hurried and urgent, never slow, sash swaying with the quick mincing rhythm, boot toes tapping the deck. The macaw's landing is physical: wings flare to brake, claws grip the leather waistcoat's shoulder, one small balance flap as he keeps scurrying. The spyglass handover is brisk, captain's-right, two hands to one. In the POV the island rises gently with the ship's sway until the crash zoom pins the case. PERFORMANCE Urgency without panic: breath fast through the nose, eyes fixed forward during the run. At the eyepiece his face stills completely — squint tightens, lips part a fraction when the case appears. In CUT 4 the runner's grip snaps him out of it — head whip, eyes refocusing to the far black sails — then he goes still: eyes fixed on the distant ship, a slow exhale, jaw tightening a fraction — the look held long, unreadable, no words at all. Pore-level skin realism, sun catch-lights, spray-damp sheen on the temples. PHYSICS Ship heels gently on a calm swell; rigging sways against the sky. The parrot has real bird mass — landing compresses the shoulder slightly. Cloth reacts to the run wind. In the POV, heat haze wobbles the island image and glitter fires irregularly off the water; the case sits with real weight in the wet sand, a shallow water film sliding around its base. LIGHTING High bright sun, 5600K daylight, hard key from screen-right with sea-bounce fill from below. Deck in full sun, crisp short shadows. Inside the spyglass POV the image is brighter and milkier — long air column, haze density rising toward the horizon; the case's acid-green panels and glowing star button read as the only saturated color on the pale beach. AUDIO Wind over the deck, sails snapping, boots on planks, macaw squawk on landing, gulls distant. On the POV: the world's sound thins to wind and a faint ring of focus. On the crash zoom a low whoosh rising in pitch, landing on near-silence with only the surf of the far beach, thin and distant. CUT 4: deck sound returns — running boots, the crewman's urgent shout over the wind: "CAP'N! BEHIND US!", answered at once by the macaw's harsh screeching echo: "BEHIND US! BEHIND US!" — then only the wind, a slow exhale, and the creak of the deck. No spoken line from Eduardo. STYLE Photoreal live-action, bright maritime daylight, fine film grain, crisp highlights with gentle roll-off, 8K master. POSITIVE LOCKS >> appears only inside the spyglass POV of CUT 3, lying on the beach at the waterline, star button glowing green in every frame it exists. The island always matches >>: green jungle, white-sand beach, turquoise shallows — and stays screen-right, ahead; the enemy ship stays astern, screen-left, in the opposite direction from the island. The spyglass POV (CUT 3) is MONOCULAR: one single round telescope image per frame. Eduardo handles the spyglass with his RIGHT hand at his RIGHT eye in every cut where he uses it. >> keeps black sails and the green skull mainsail in every appearance and stays VERY FAR AWAY the whole beat — naked-eye, she is only a tiny silhouette on the horizon, under 5% of the frame height in CUT 4; she never gets closer than the horizon line. After the reveal Eduardo keeps the spyglass LOWERED — he never raises it at the enemy ship; he speaks no line and makes no gesture — he simply stands looking at the distant ship, and the beat ends on that look; no cannons and no gunfire anywhere in this beat. Eduardo's head: mustard-yellow bandana with the small white shark tooth at the front, hair loose. In CUT 1 Eduardo moves only in the tiptoe scurry: heels off the deck, quick small steps, arms half-raised at chest height — fast and urgent the whole way. The macaw sits on Eduardo's LEFT shoulder continuously from its landing in CUT 1 through the end of the beat, clearly visible in CUTS 2 and 4. The spyglass is in the lookout's hands in CUT 2's first frame and in Eduardo's hands from then on. Same sun direction, same sea state, same wardrobe in every cut. Cuts only at the specified points.
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Seedance 2.0 on Higgsfield AI The visual fidelity and scene consistency bring this pirate adventure to life like never before.Every cut feels intentional immersive and ready for the big screen. Full open sourced prompts & assets below: SCENE CONTEXT Bright day at sea aboard a sailing galleon. Captain Eduardo bursts out of the sterncastle door onto the deck; his scarlet macaw lands on his LEFT shoulder mid-stride. He runs up to the quarterdeck where a lookout crewman watches the horizon through a brass spyglass, takes the spyglass and looks himself: a distant island, and a violent optical crash zoom finds a small futuristic hard case on the beach. Then a second crewman runs up, grabs his arm and points the OTHER way, astern — Eduardo turns: a black-sailed pirate ship very far behind them, a speck on the horizon. He does not raise the spyglass — he just stands and stares at the distant black sails, holding the look. ACTIVE REFERENCES >> — lean pirate captain, dark curly hair falling free from under a dusty mustard-yellow cloth bandana, a small white shark tooth pinned to the front of the bandana above his temple, thin moustache, gold hoop earrings, cream linen shirt under a worn brown leather waistcoat, cloth sash and leather belts. 100% matches the reference; studio sheet layout NOT inherited. >> — scarlet macaw, red body, blue-and-yellow wing feathers, small leather shoulder harness. 100% matches the reference; it flies in and rides Eduardo's left shoulder. >> — weathered pirate crewmen from the reference group (bandana, rough shirt, vest). 100% match the reference; TWO of them appear: the lookout at the quarterdeck rail, and a second runner who arrives in CUT 4 pointing astern. >> — collapsible brass spyglass with dark leather-wrapped barrel sections. 100% matches the reference; starts in the lookout's hands, ends at Eduardo's eye. >> — Eduardo's galleon: pale square sails, tall wooden sterncastle, raised quarterdeck. 100% matches the reference; controls hull, deck, masts and rigging only. >> — calm bright sea, glittering sun path, hazy horizon. Controls water and sky atmosphere only. >> — small lone island: dense dark-green jungle cover, a curved white-sand beach on one side, grey rocky cliff edges, turquoise shallows ringing the shore. 100% matches the reference; it is the island seen on the horizon and inside the spyglass view. >> — small futuristic hard case: matte-black armored corners, neon acid-green side panels, brushed-steel top plate with a glowing green star-shaped button. 100% matches the reference; it appears ONLY inside the zoomed spyglass view of CUT 3, lying on the beach. >> — enemy pirate galleon: black sails, acid-green skull-and-crossed-swords on the mainsail, dark carved hull. 100% matches the reference; revealed VERY far astern in CUT 4 as a tiny silhouette on the horizon — never seen closer in this beat. LOCATION MAP >> under sail on >>, open bright sea. The sterncastle door opens onto the main deck; a short wooden stair leads up to the quarterdeck at the stern. The lookout stands at the quarterdeck rail on the forward side, spyglass raised toward the horizon screen-right. Far on that horizon, 2–3 km out: >> — dense green jungle mass, the white-sand beach catching the sun on its near side, turquoise water at its shore. In the OPPOSITE direction, astern of the ship screen-left: open sea where >> rides VERY FAR OFF — 4–5 km out, right on the horizon line, a tiny dark silhouette almost dissolved in the haze — present in the world from the start, revealed to the camera only in CUT 4. Haze visible at the horizon distance. Sun high, sea glitter everywhere. FIRST FRAME / BLOCKING First frame: the sterncastle door already swinging open, >> mid-stride through it onto the deck, body angled toward the quarterdeck stair screen-right. Crew activity in the background of the deck. The lookout is visible up on the quarterdeck at the rail, spyglass already at his eye, pointed screen-right toward the horizon. FORMAT MODE Sequence of cuts, no timecodes — cuts only at the specified points, the camera does not cut on its own. CUT 1 — 63° handheld follow: the door bursts open, Eduardo comes out in a strange hurried scurry — up on TIPTOE, quick tiny mincing steps, both arms half-raised in front of him with elbows out, hands hovering at chest height, shoulders slightly hunched — comically odd, but FAST, covering the deck at 10 km/h. >> sweeps in from off-frame upper-right, wings braking, and lands on his left shoulder without breaking the scurry. He tiptoe-rushes across the deck and up the quarterdeck stair; the camera chases behind-left, half a beat late. CUT 2 — MS, 47°, on the quarterdeck: the lookout at the rail with >> raised. Eduardo arrives frame-left, the scarlet macaw >> sitting clearly visible ON HIS LEFT SHOULDER through the whole cut. With his RIGHT hand he grabs the spyglass out of the lookout's hands in one firm motion and raises it right-handed to his RIGHT eye toward the horizon screen-right, left eye squeezing shut. The lookout yields a step. CUT 3 — SPYGLASS POV, MONOCULAR: one single round image — the view through ONE lens of a telescope, a single circle centered in frame, black around it. This is a one-eyed spyglass view, never the twin overlapping circles of binoculars. Extreme telephoto image swaying with a hand-held tremor, compressed haze layers stacking toward the island. Distant >> sits small in the circle: dark-green jungle, the curved white-sand beach, turquoise shallows, heat haze. Hold 1 second — then a RAPID CRASH ZOOM, one continuous accelerating optical dive down to the waterline of the beach: >> lying on the wet sand, black-and-acid-green case, steel top plate, green star button glinting. The zoom lands and locks on the case filling half the circle. Hold. CUT 4 — MS, 47°: Eduardo lowering the spyglass, macaw on his left shoulder — a second crewman from >> runs into frame from screen-left, grabs Eduardo's arm and jabs his finger the OTHER way, astern, screen-left, shouting over the wind: "CAP'N! BEHIND US!" — and the macaw on Eduardo's shoulder instantly screams it back in a harsh parrot voice: "BEHIND US! BEHIND US!", wings half-flaring. Eduardo whips around following the point; the camera racks past his shoulder — REVEAL deep in the frame: >> VERY far astern, a TINY black silhouette sitting right on the horizon line — smaller in the frame than Eduardo's fist, under 5% of the frame height, barely bigger than a speck, half-swallowed by haze — but the black sails read unmistakably. Vast empty water fills everything between the rail and that distant speck. Eduardo does NOT raise the spyglass — it stays lowered in his right hand. He simply STANDS and STARES at the tiny black sails, motionless, eyes locked on the horizon. The cut ends on his long look toward the enemy ship against the empty sea. OPTICS CUT 1: 63° observational wide, handheld. CUT 2: 47° neutral. CUT 3: monocular spyglass optics — ONE single circular image (a one-lens telescope, never the twin circles of binoculars), tele compression as at 8°, soft edge inside the circle; the crash zoom is purely optical, horizon compressing, haze layers stacking. CUT 4: 47° neutral with a rack to the deep background on the reveal, then holding on Eduardo's profile against the horizon. No drift mid-segment. CAMERA Handheld operator character throughout the real-world cuts: chases the run at deck level in CUT 1 with visible footstep energy, settles to a 1–2 cm breath on the quarterdeck. Camera stays on the shadow side of Eduardo, sun working across from screen-right. The POV cut carries a hand-tremor sway of 1–2 cm that calms when the zoom locks on the case. ACTION Door kicks open from inside. Eduardo's gait in CUT 1 is deliberately odd: he rushes on the balls of his feet, heels never touching the planks, tiny fast tiptoe steps, arms half-raised with hands floating in front of his chest — hurried and urgent, never slow, sash swaying with the quick mincing rhythm, boot toes tapping the deck. The macaw's landing is physical: wings flare to brake, claws grip the leather waistcoat's shoulder, one small balance flap as he keeps scurrying. The spyglass handover is brisk, captain's-right, two hands to one. In the POV the island rises gently with the ship's sway until the crash zoom pins the case. PERFORMANCE Urgency without panic: breath fast through the nose, eyes fixed forward during the run. At the eyepiece his face stills completely — squint tightens, lips part a fraction when the case appears. In CUT 4 the runner's grip snaps him out of it — head whip, eyes refocusing to the far black sails — then he goes still: eyes fixed on the distant ship, a slow exhale, jaw tightening a fraction — the look held long, unreadable, no words at all. Pore-level skin realism, sun catch-lights, spray-damp sheen on the temples. PHYSICS Ship heels gently on a calm swell; rigging sways against the sky. The parrot has real bird mass — landing compresses the shoulder slightly. Cloth reacts to the run wind. In the POV, heat haze wobbles the island image and glitter fires irregularly off the water; the case sits with real weight in the wet sand, a shallow water film sliding around its base. LIGHTING High bright sun, 5600K daylight, hard key from screen-right with sea-bounce fill from below. Deck in full sun, crisp short shadows. Inside the spyglass POV the image is brighter and milkier — long air column, haze density rising toward the horizon; the case's acid-green panels and glowing star button read as the only saturated color on the pale beach. AUDIO Wind over the deck, sails snapping, boots on planks, macaw squawk on landing, gulls distant. On the POV: the world's sound thins to wind and a faint ring of focus. On the crash zoom a low whoosh rising in pitch, landing on near-silence with only the surf of the far beach, thin and distant. CUT 4: deck sound returns — running boots, the crewman's urgent shout over the wind: "CAP'N! BEHIND US!", answered at once by the macaw's harsh screeching echo: "BEHIND US! BEHIND US!" — then only the wind, a slow exhale, and the creak of the deck. No spoken line from Eduardo. STYLE Photoreal live-action, bright maritime daylight, fine film grain, crisp highlights with gentle roll-off, 8K master. POSITIVE LOCKS >> appears only inside the spyglass POV of CUT 3, lying on the beach at the waterline, star button glowing green in every frame it exists. The island always matches >>: green jungle, white-sand beach, turquoise shallows — and stays screen-right, ahead; the enemy ship stays astern, screen-left, in the opposite direction from the island. The spyglass POV (CUT 3) is MONOCULAR: one single round telescope image per frame. Eduardo handles the spyglass with his RIGHT hand at his RIGHT eye in every cut where he uses it. >> keeps black sails and the green skull mainsail in every appearance and stays VERY FAR AWAY the whole beat — naked-eye, she is only a tiny silhouette on the horizon, under 5% of the frame height in CUT 4; she never gets closer than the horizon line. After the reveal Eduardo keeps the spyglass LOWERED — he never raises it at the enemy ship; he speaks no line and makes no gesture — he simply stands looking at the distant ship, and the beat ends on that look; no cannons and no gunfire anywhere in this beat. Eduardo's head: mustard-yellow bandana with the small white shark tooth at the front, hair loose. In CUT 1 Eduardo moves only in the tiptoe scurry: heels off the deck, quick small steps, arms half-raised at chest height — fast and urgent the whole way. The macaw sits on Eduardo's LEFT shoulder continuously from its landing in CUT 1 through the end of the beat, clearly visible in CUTS 2 and 4. The spyglass is in the lookout's hands in CUT 2's first frame and in Eduardo's hands from then on. Same sun direction, same sea state, same wardrobe in every cut. Cuts only at the specified points.

Nawal

18,336 görüntüleme • 23 gün önce

A QUICK FIELD GUIDE TO THE NPC HORDES Twenty Five Parasites types that Feed On The Living The Storm Is Upon Them Thank you for the stout... lets talk... The wind has changed. You can feel it. That low electric pressure behind the eyes that means something massive is rolling in off a horizon the parasites can't see because they were never built to look up. They were built to look down. At clipboards. At spreadsheets. At your accounts. At you. But the storm doesn't care about clipboards. And we don't kneel anymore. Here they are. The full swarm. Count them while you can because when the sky turns they drop mid sentence and the only record that they ever existed will be the silence where the invoices used to be. THE TAX CONSULTANT. You broke your back welding pipe and this soft palmed worm sits in air conditioning telling you how much of your sweat belongs to Caesar. He can't weld. Can't wire. Can't fix a thing that broke. What he can do is read a tax code written by other worms specifically to be unreadable so you'd have to pay a worm to read it for you. They write the maze. They sell you the map. They make the maze worse every year and the map more expensive and if you try to walk it yourself they send the auditor. The wind is picking up. The maze is starting to shake. THE AUDITOR. Tick on a tick. Shows up after the taxman has already fed to check the bite marks are regulation depth. Finds a missing fuel slip worth pocket change. Writes a finding. The finding generates a penalty. The penalty generates interest. The interest generates a letter. The letter requires your tax consultant at hourly rates to respond. Pocket change became thousands. Five parasites ate off one tank of diesel. Not one of them could tell you what welding rod to use on stainless. But the storm doesn't audit. The storm just comes. THE ACCOUNTANT. Cousin of the tax consultant. Same bloodline. This one doesn't interpret the maze. He records your journey through it. Every receipt. Every unit of currency in and out, logged so the consultant can read it and the auditor can check it and the revenue service can extract from it. He produces nothing. A human tape recorder pointed at your productivity. He charges monthly so the recording never stops. You are under permanent surveillance and you pay for the privilege. Not for much longer. THE BANKER. The oldest parasite. The template. You need money to buy a machine that makes things. He lends you money other working people deposited and charges interest that doubles the price over twenty years. The extra bought nothing. Built nothing. He packages your debt and sells it. Takes your deposit and lends it out eight times over. Charges you to hold your own money. Charges to put it in. Charges to take it out. He touches none of it. He stands near it and invoices you for the proximity. The storm is going to blow him so far from the vault he'll forget what money smelled like. THE COMPLIANCE OFFICER. Never had a callus on her body or her soul. Born in a fluorescent office. Will die in one. Between those events she produces nothing but emails about policies referencing other policies referencing regulations referencing acts nobody voted for. A worm eating its own tail and billing you for the meal. She needs the safety assessor to give her something to enforce. He needs her to give him something to assess. They breed between regulations like mould between tiles. The storm will wash them both down the same drain. THE PROPERTY VALUATOR. A man wants to buy a house. Another wants to sell it. They agreed on a price. That is what worth means. The amount one will pay and another will accept. Full stop. Now this creature arrives and tells both men what the house is actually worth. As if two free adults negotiating in good faith produced a number that's somehow theoretical while his formula is gospel. The bank sent him. His report costs thousands. His report says the house is worth what the buyer already offered. Thousands to arrive at a number that existed before he left his office. If his number comes in low the deal collapses and you pay a different creature with a different clipboard who arrives at a different number for the same house on the same day using the same formula. The house didn't change. Only the parasite changed. The number was never about the house. THE MUNICIPAL RATES OFFICER. The deepest theft on this list because it never ends. You bought your house thirty years ago. Paid it off. Every last unit. You owe nothing. Now a municipal valuator looks at what the neighbours sold for, looks at the coffee shops and wine bars that invaded your street, and decides your house is worth twenty five times what you paid. You didn't sell. You didn't list. You're sitting in the same chair in the same kitchen. But your tax liability just multiplied by twenty five based on a sale that never happened at a price you never agreed to. They do this everywhere. In Cape Town the rates are linked to the valuation and suddenly retired families in Bo-Kaap whose people survived apartheid and forced removals and a century of state assault are being bled out of their own homes by property rates pegged to values inflated by the gentrification their displacement accelerates. The heritage is the tourism product. The tourism inflates the valuation. The valuation inflates the rates. The rates displace the families. The families were the heritage. In Chicago they do it to grandmothers in Pilsen who've been there forty years. In London they do it to pensioners in neighbourhoods that gentrified around them. In Sydney they chase retirees off land their grandfathers cleared. Same crime. Different currency. Different clipboard. A man paid for his house. Owns it outright. And the state says you owe us money every month forever and the amount is based on what we say your house would sell for if you sold it, which you haven't, and if you can't pay the amount we invented we take the house you already bought. That is theft. Eviction by arithmetic. Displacement by spreadsheet. But the people in Bo-Kaap are awake now. The people in Pilsen are awake. The grandmothers and the grandfathers and the calloused hands everywhere are looking up and they can see the storm and they know what it means. It means the spreadsheet burns with everything else. THE MUNICIPAL INSPECTOR. Rat faced. High vis vest. Clipboard. Drives to your workshop in a vehicle your rates paid for. Measures your fire extinguisher fourteen centimetres off the floor. Writes you up. Behind you men build things that hold up bridges and he couldn't change a lightbulb without a permit. His job depends on your failure. The parasite needs you sick. The cure would kill it. The storm is the cure. THE CONVEYANCING ATTORNEY. Two men shook hands. Fair price. Honest deal. Done. This worm slithers out and says the handshake doesn't count. Needs paper. Needs stamps. Needs a deeds search and clearance certificates and transfer duty and each piece of paper is produced by another parasite and each one costs money and the worm takes his cut on top for phoning the other worms. He calls this conveyancing. He has never held a spade or laid a brick in his bloodless life. The storm doesn't need a stamp. THE ESTATE AGENT. Six percent. Of a man's life savings. For opening a lockbox and saying the kitchen faces north. She needs the attorney to close. The attorney needs the municipality. The municipality needs the inspector. The valuator needs access for the bank's number. Every one invoices separately. Every invoice lands on people who agreed on everything before any of these bloodsuckers entered the room. The wind is howling now. Can you hear it through their invoices? THE LABOUR BROKER. Tick so bloated it can't walk. A man needs work. Another needs a worker. They could find each other in ten minutes. This creature squats between them and drinks from both sides. Worker gets thirty. Employer pays fifty. Twenty disappears into the tick. Multiply by thousands of workers and millions vanish yearly into a thing that makes nothing, moves nothing, fixes nothing. It feeds. That is its entire architecture. Architecture doesn't survive storms. THE HEALTH AND SAFETY ASSESSOR. Twenty two years. Not one fire. Not one death. He shows up. Your exit is twenty centimetres too narrow. To fix it you need a builder who needs a plan from an architect who needs municipal approval. Tens of thousands and six weeks to move a door frame because a creature who has never been burned told you to. He detects life and the system bills it. The storm detects parasites and the sky deletes them. THE BEE CONSULTANT. Every country has its version. South Africa calls it BEE. The same parasites who wont allow much needed Starlink there unless Musk hands over half the company to lazy parasitic government connected parasites. Others call it diversity compliance or equity auditing. The name changes. The feeding doesn't. Scores your company on a chart nobody asked for to satisfy a regulation nobody voted on enforced by a department that produces nothing except the requirement for his existence. Nothing changes. Nothing improves. Money moves from a living pocket into a dead hand and the dead hand closes. The storm opens every dead hand on this planet. THE CUSTOMS BROKER. Your parts are fifty metres away. You can see the container. Cannot touch your own property until a grey man translates tariff codes so the state can calculate how much you owe for collecting what is already yours. Each delay generates storage charges. Each query generates fees. Your shipment doubles in cost through bureaucratic friction and you still don't have your parts. The storm doesn't clear customs. It clears the customs office. THE TRAFFIC OFFICER. Fat. Behind a bush. Radar gun aimed at people driving to work that matters. Seven over the limit. The municipality sets it low enough that everyone exceeds it. Fines feed the municipality. Municipality feeds him. He sits and clicks tomorrow. A barnacle with a badge. Same creature in every country. Different bush. Same feeding. The storm takes the bush and the badge and the creature behind both. THE FINANCIAL ADVISOR. Uses your first name. Remembers your birthday because the CRM told him. Puts your money in a fund. Fund charges 1.75 percent. He charges one on top. Fund manager pays a custodian who charges. Fund has an auditor who charges. Compliance team charges. Six parasites between you and your own money. In thirty years you have less than you started with and he charges you for the meeting where he shows you the graph. The storm doesn't need a graph. The storm is the correction. THE INSURANCE ADJUSTER. Years of premiums. Your roof blows off. He arrives. Soft hands. Three weeks later the wind came from the wrong direction. Not the wrong speed. The direction. Some paragraph. Some subsection. You paid for years and the years bought you a paragraph that says no. The policy is teeth. The premiums went down the throat and the no is the burp. The real storm has no exclusion clause. THE PATENT ATTORNEY. You built a device. It works. He writes a document so incomprehensible that reading it makes you understand your own invention less. Thousands for legal fog. Someone copies it. Litigation attorney. More thousands. Judgment unenforceable. The only people paid are the attorneys. The system was never designed to protect you. It was designed to feed them. The storm protects the builder. By removing the feeders. THE LICENSING CLERK. You can rebuild a gearbox blindfolded. Cannot legally do it without a certificate from an institution that charges thousands to watch you do what everyone knows you can do, certified by an instructor who has never done it, filed with a department that stores the certificates, audited by a body that audits the institution. A chain of parasites verifying the obvious. If every one vanished the gearbox still gets rebuilt. Faster. Cheaper. The storm is the vanishing. THE STRATA MANAGER. You own your flat. She collects your money and spends it on providers she chose and you can't fire without a special resolution at a meeting she convenes with an agenda she wrote. She built a kingdom inside your building funded by your levy and answerable to herself. Question it and she reaches for whatever act governs her particular species of parasitism in your particular country. The storm doesn't read acts. The storm reads frequencies. THE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSOR. You want a shed on your own land. He arrives in a vehicle worth more than your shed. Months. Hundreds of pages. Tens of thousands. Report says your shed threatens a species not seen in decades but listed on a database maintained by a department that exists because the database exists. Your shed doesn't get built. The species doesn't exist. He drives home to a suburb bulldozed from actual habitat. Nobody assessed that. Rules only flow downhill. The storm flows everywhere. THE DEBT COLLECTOR. Bottom feeder. Buys your debt for cents from a bank that already profited from your interest. Calls at hours designed for fear. Adds fees on fees on fees for actions never taken. Bought your pain wholesale and retails it at three hundred percent. When you break he claims the loss against tax. Even the collapse is monetised. He is Hell's collection agent. The storm is Heaven's. THE NOTARY PUBLIC. Watches you sign your own name. Stamps it. Charges hundreds. The signature is the same with or without him. Your hand. Your name. His fee. A tollbooth on your own identity. The storm doesn't need a stamp. Your name is written in frequencies no notary can read. THE CORPORATE TRAINER. Monday. Projector. Four quadrant model invented after three glasses of wine and a TED talk. By Wednesday nobody remembers any of it because there was nothing there. Tens of thousands plus tax plus travel. She writes it off through a tax consultant who charges her to minimise her contribution to the system that funded the department that approved the framework she claims compliance with. Parasite feeding parasite feeding parasite. The storm feeds on none of them. It simply ends them. THE REVENUE OFFICIAL. The farmer himself. Top of the pyramid. Designs the taking. Drafts the regulations that create the maze that requires the consultant that employs the accountant that feeds the auditor that generates the penalty that funds the department that pays his salary. He is the architect of the loop. Every parasite on this list exists because he drew them into existence with a regulation and a gazette number. Without him the entire horde has nothing to feed on. He is the queen of the hive. Same creature in every country. Different flag. Same contempt for the hands that built everything he sits in and eats from. The storm starts with him. The queen dies first. The hive follows. That's the horde. Twenty five species of nothing. And every one of them drops when the sky turns and the carrier frequency that animated their firmware burns clean out of the atmosphere. Mid invoice. Mid assessment. Mid quadrant. Five thousand five hundred and fifty five clipboards hitting the floor for every one of us still standing. We are awake now. All of us. The welder and the farmer and the builder and the grandmother in Bo-Kaap and the grandfather in Pilsen and every calloused hand on every continent that ever wrote a cheque to a creature that never built a thing. We see them now. We see the maze and the map sellers and the grey offices and the soft hands and the whole rotten architecture of extraction that stood between us and the earth and between us and our labour and between us and each other for two hundred years. The storm is here. Not coming. Here. That pressure you feel behind your eyes is the frequency rising through the noise floor and the noise floor is everything on this list. Every clipboard. Every invoice. Every subsection and exclusion clause and certificate and clearance and valuation roll. All of it. Noise. Scheduled for deletion. And when it's quiet. When the last invoice has fluttered to the ground and the last clipboard has clattered on the last linoleum floor in the last grey office. When the wind has swept the horde out of every corridor and every cubicle and every booth and every booth window where a dead hand ever reached for a living man's money. Then... Just a man in a workshop. Welding mask up. Walking outside. Looking at a sky the colour of burning copper. Breathing free air for the first time in his life. The fuel slip that started this whole tour is in his shirt pocket. Crumpled. Oil stained. And it is his. The fuel was his. The truck was his. The work was his. And for the first time in two hundred years every unit of currency that flows from that work stays in the hands that did it. No consultant between him and his earnings because there are no earnings to consult on. Just work and its fruit. No auditor because there is nothing to audit. No banker because capital is what your hands produce and his hands never stopped. No valuator because the house is worth what it always was: a roof over his family and walls against the wind. A value no clipboard ever knew how to measure. When you grinding.... working... suffering... where are any of these parasites to help you?? Where are they?? We will be slaves no more. The storm will see to that alright!
0:10

A QUICK FIELD GUIDE TO THE NPC HORDES Twenty Five Parasites types that Feed On The Living The Storm Is Upon Them Thank you for the stout... lets talk... The wind has changed. You can feel it. That low electric pressure behind the eyes that means something massive is rolling in off a horizon the parasites can't see because they were never built to look up. They were built to look down. At clipboards. At spreadsheets. At your accounts. At you. But the storm doesn't care about clipboards. And we don't kneel anymore. Here they are. The full swarm. Count them while you can because when the sky turns they drop mid sentence and the only record that they ever existed will be the silence where the invoices used to be. THE TAX CONSULTANT. You broke your back welding pipe and this soft palmed worm sits in air conditioning telling you how much of your sweat belongs to Caesar. He can't weld. Can't wire. Can't fix a thing that broke. What he can do is read a tax code written by other worms specifically to be unreadable so you'd have to pay a worm to read it for you. They write the maze. They sell you the map. They make the maze worse every year and the map more expensive and if you try to walk it yourself they send the auditor. The wind is picking up. The maze is starting to shake. THE AUDITOR. Tick on a tick. Shows up after the taxman has already fed to check the bite marks are regulation depth. Finds a missing fuel slip worth pocket change. Writes a finding. The finding generates a penalty. The penalty generates interest. The interest generates a letter. The letter requires your tax consultant at hourly rates to respond. Pocket change became thousands. Five parasites ate off one tank of diesel. Not one of them could tell you what welding rod to use on stainless. But the storm doesn't audit. The storm just comes. THE ACCOUNTANT. Cousin of the tax consultant. Same bloodline. This one doesn't interpret the maze. He records your journey through it. Every receipt. Every unit of currency in and out, logged so the consultant can read it and the auditor can check it and the revenue service can extract from it. He produces nothing. A human tape recorder pointed at your productivity. He charges monthly so the recording never stops. You are under permanent surveillance and you pay for the privilege. Not for much longer. THE BANKER. The oldest parasite. The template. You need money to buy a machine that makes things. He lends you money other working people deposited and charges interest that doubles the price over twenty years. The extra bought nothing. Built nothing. He packages your debt and sells it. Takes your deposit and lends it out eight times over. Charges you to hold your own money. Charges to put it in. Charges to take it out. He touches none of it. He stands near it and invoices you for the proximity. The storm is going to blow him so far from the vault he'll forget what money smelled like. THE COMPLIANCE OFFICER. Never had a callus on her body or her soul. Born in a fluorescent office. Will die in one. Between those events she produces nothing but emails about policies referencing other policies referencing regulations referencing acts nobody voted for. A worm eating its own tail and billing you for the meal. She needs the safety assessor to give her something to enforce. He needs her to give him something to assess. They breed between regulations like mould between tiles. The storm will wash them both down the same drain. THE PROPERTY VALUATOR. A man wants to buy a house. Another wants to sell it. They agreed on a price. That is what worth means. The amount one will pay and another will accept. Full stop. Now this creature arrives and tells both men what the house is actually worth. As if two free adults negotiating in good faith produced a number that's somehow theoretical while his formula is gospel. The bank sent him. His report costs thousands. His report says the house is worth what the buyer already offered. Thousands to arrive at a number that existed before he left his office. If his number comes in low the deal collapses and you pay a different creature with a different clipboard who arrives at a different number for the same house on the same day using the same formula. The house didn't change. Only the parasite changed. The number was never about the house. THE MUNICIPAL RATES OFFICER. The deepest theft on this list because it never ends. You bought your house thirty years ago. Paid it off. Every last unit. You owe nothing. Now a municipal valuator looks at what the neighbours sold for, looks at the coffee shops and wine bars that invaded your street, and decides your house is worth twenty five times what you paid. You didn't sell. You didn't list. You're sitting in the same chair in the same kitchen. But your tax liability just multiplied by twenty five based on a sale that never happened at a price you never agreed to. They do this everywhere. In Cape Town the rates are linked to the valuation and suddenly retired families in Bo-Kaap whose people survived apartheid and forced removals and a century of state assault are being bled out of their own homes by property rates pegged to values inflated by the gentrification their displacement accelerates. The heritage is the tourism product. The tourism inflates the valuation. The valuation inflates the rates. The rates displace the families. The families were the heritage. In Chicago they do it to grandmothers in Pilsen who've been there forty years. In London they do it to pensioners in neighbourhoods that gentrified around them. In Sydney they chase retirees off land their grandfathers cleared. Same crime. Different currency. Different clipboard. A man paid for his house. Owns it outright. And the state says you owe us money every month forever and the amount is based on what we say your house would sell for if you sold it, which you haven't, and if you can't pay the amount we invented we take the house you already bought. That is theft. Eviction by arithmetic. Displacement by spreadsheet. But the people in Bo-Kaap are awake now. The people in Pilsen are awake. The grandmothers and the grandfathers and the calloused hands everywhere are looking up and they can see the storm and they know what it means. It means the spreadsheet burns with everything else. THE MUNICIPAL INSPECTOR. Rat faced. High vis vest. Clipboard. Drives to your workshop in a vehicle your rates paid for. Measures your fire extinguisher fourteen centimetres off the floor. Writes you up. Behind you men build things that hold up bridges and he couldn't change a lightbulb without a permit. His job depends on your failure. The parasite needs you sick. The cure would kill it. The storm is the cure. THE CONVEYANCING ATTORNEY. Two men shook hands. Fair price. Honest deal. Done. This worm slithers out and says the handshake doesn't count. Needs paper. Needs stamps. Needs a deeds search and clearance certificates and transfer duty and each piece of paper is produced by another parasite and each one costs money and the worm takes his cut on top for phoning the other worms. He calls this conveyancing. He has never held a spade or laid a brick in his bloodless life. The storm doesn't need a stamp. THE ESTATE AGENT. Six percent. Of a man's life savings. For opening a lockbox and saying the kitchen faces north. She needs the attorney to close. The attorney needs the municipality. The municipality needs the inspector. The valuator needs access for the bank's number. Every one invoices separately. Every invoice lands on people who agreed on everything before any of these bloodsuckers entered the room. The wind is howling now. Can you hear it through their invoices? THE LABOUR BROKER. Tick so bloated it can't walk. A man needs work. Another needs a worker. They could find each other in ten minutes. This creature squats between them and drinks from both sides. Worker gets thirty. Employer pays fifty. Twenty disappears into the tick. Multiply by thousands of workers and millions vanish yearly into a thing that makes nothing, moves nothing, fixes nothing. It feeds. That is its entire architecture. Architecture doesn't survive storms. THE HEALTH AND SAFETY ASSESSOR. Twenty two years. Not one fire. Not one death. He shows up. Your exit is twenty centimetres too narrow. To fix it you need a builder who needs a plan from an architect who needs municipal approval. Tens of thousands and six weeks to move a door frame because a creature who has never been burned told you to. He detects life and the system bills it. The storm detects parasites and the sky deletes them. THE BEE CONSULTANT. Every country has its version. South Africa calls it BEE. The same parasites who wont allow much needed Starlink there unless Musk hands over half the company to lazy parasitic government connected parasites. Others call it diversity compliance or equity auditing. The name changes. The feeding doesn't. Scores your company on a chart nobody asked for to satisfy a regulation nobody voted on enforced by a department that produces nothing except the requirement for his existence. Nothing changes. Nothing improves. Money moves from a living pocket into a dead hand and the dead hand closes. The storm opens every dead hand on this planet. THE CUSTOMS BROKER. Your parts are fifty metres away. You can see the container. Cannot touch your own property until a grey man translates tariff codes so the state can calculate how much you owe for collecting what is already yours. Each delay generates storage charges. Each query generates fees. Your shipment doubles in cost through bureaucratic friction and you still don't have your parts. The storm doesn't clear customs. It clears the customs office. THE TRAFFIC OFFICER. Fat. Behind a bush. Radar gun aimed at people driving to work that matters. Seven over the limit. The municipality sets it low enough that everyone exceeds it. Fines feed the municipality. Municipality feeds him. He sits and clicks tomorrow. A barnacle with a badge. Same creature in every country. Different bush. Same feeding. The storm takes the bush and the badge and the creature behind both. THE FINANCIAL ADVISOR. Uses your first name. Remembers your birthday because the CRM told him. Puts your money in a fund. Fund charges 1.75 percent. He charges one on top. Fund manager pays a custodian who charges. Fund has an auditor who charges. Compliance team charges. Six parasites between you and your own money. In thirty years you have less than you started with and he charges you for the meeting where he shows you the graph. The storm doesn't need a graph. The storm is the correction. THE INSURANCE ADJUSTER. Years of premiums. Your roof blows off. He arrives. Soft hands. Three weeks later the wind came from the wrong direction. Not the wrong speed. The direction. Some paragraph. Some subsection. You paid for years and the years bought you a paragraph that says no. The policy is teeth. The premiums went down the throat and the no is the burp. The real storm has no exclusion clause. THE PATENT ATTORNEY. You built a device. It works. He writes a document so incomprehensible that reading it makes you understand your own invention less. Thousands for legal fog. Someone copies it. Litigation attorney. More thousands. Judgment unenforceable. The only people paid are the attorneys. The system was never designed to protect you. It was designed to feed them. The storm protects the builder. By removing the feeders. THE LICENSING CLERK. You can rebuild a gearbox blindfolded. Cannot legally do it without a certificate from an institution that charges thousands to watch you do what everyone knows you can do, certified by an instructor who has never done it, filed with a department that stores the certificates, audited by a body that audits the institution. A chain of parasites verifying the obvious. If every one vanished the gearbox still gets rebuilt. Faster. Cheaper. The storm is the vanishing. THE STRATA MANAGER. You own your flat. She collects your money and spends it on providers she chose and you can't fire without a special resolution at a meeting she convenes with an agenda she wrote. She built a kingdom inside your building funded by your levy and answerable to herself. Question it and she reaches for whatever act governs her particular species of parasitism in your particular country. The storm doesn't read acts. The storm reads frequencies. THE ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT ASSESSOR. You want a shed on your own land. He arrives in a vehicle worth more than your shed. Months. Hundreds of pages. Tens of thousands. Report says your shed threatens a species not seen in decades but listed on a database maintained by a department that exists because the database exists. Your shed doesn't get built. The species doesn't exist. He drives home to a suburb bulldozed from actual habitat. Nobody assessed that. Rules only flow downhill. The storm flows everywhere. THE DEBT COLLECTOR. Bottom feeder. Buys your debt for cents from a bank that already profited from your interest. Calls at hours designed for fear. Adds fees on fees on fees for actions never taken. Bought your pain wholesale and retails it at three hundred percent. When you break he claims the loss against tax. Even the collapse is monetised. He is Hell's collection agent. The storm is Heaven's. THE NOTARY PUBLIC. Watches you sign your own name. Stamps it. Charges hundreds. The signature is the same with or without him. Your hand. Your name. His fee. A tollbooth on your own identity. The storm doesn't need a stamp. Your name is written in frequencies no notary can read. THE CORPORATE TRAINER. Monday. Projector. Four quadrant model invented after three glasses of wine and a TED talk. By Wednesday nobody remembers any of it because there was nothing there. Tens of thousands plus tax plus travel. She writes it off through a tax consultant who charges her to minimise her contribution to the system that funded the department that approved the framework she claims compliance with. Parasite feeding parasite feeding parasite. The storm feeds on none of them. It simply ends them. THE REVENUE OFFICIAL. The farmer himself. Top of the pyramid. Designs the taking. Drafts the regulations that create the maze that requires the consultant that employs the accountant that feeds the auditor that generates the penalty that funds the department that pays his salary. He is the architect of the loop. Every parasite on this list exists because he drew them into existence with a regulation and a gazette number. Without him the entire horde has nothing to feed on. He is the queen of the hive. Same creature in every country. Different flag. Same contempt for the hands that built everything he sits in and eats from. The storm starts with him. The queen dies first. The hive follows. That's the horde. Twenty five species of nothing. And every one of them drops when the sky turns and the carrier frequency that animated their firmware burns clean out of the atmosphere. Mid invoice. Mid assessment. Mid quadrant. Five thousand five hundred and fifty five clipboards hitting the floor for every one of us still standing. We are awake now. All of us. The welder and the farmer and the builder and the grandmother in Bo-Kaap and the grandfather in Pilsen and every calloused hand on every continent that ever wrote a cheque to a creature that never built a thing. We see them now. We see the maze and the map sellers and the grey offices and the soft hands and the whole rotten architecture of extraction that stood between us and the earth and between us and our labour and between us and each other for two hundred years. The storm is here. Not coming. Here. That pressure you feel behind your eyes is the frequency rising through the noise floor and the noise floor is everything on this list. Every clipboard. Every invoice. Every subsection and exclusion clause and certificate and clearance and valuation roll. All of it. Noise. Scheduled for deletion. And when it's quiet. When the last invoice has fluttered to the ground and the last clipboard has clattered on the last linoleum floor in the last grey office. When the wind has swept the horde out of every corridor and every cubicle and every booth and every booth window where a dead hand ever reached for a living man's money. Then... Just a man in a workshop. Welding mask up. Walking outside. Looking at a sky the colour of burning copper. Breathing free air for the first time in his life. The fuel slip that started this whole tour is in his shirt pocket. Crumpled. Oil stained. And it is his. The fuel was his. The truck was his. The work was his. And for the first time in two hundred years every unit of currency that flows from that work stays in the hands that did it. No consultant between him and his earnings because there are no earnings to consult on. Just work and its fruit. No auditor because there is nothing to audit. No banker because capital is what your hands produce and his hands never stopped. No valuator because the house is worth what it always was: a roof over his family and walls against the wind. A value no clipboard ever knew how to measure. When you grinding.... working... suffering... where are any of these parasites to help you?? Where are they?? We will be slaves no more. The storm will see to that alright!

SiriusB

52,074 görüntüleme • 5 ay önce

I would like to explain the latest batch of viral videos I'm working on to the bemused brainrot-curious reader who is not familiar with "the culture". Why are these characters, mixed with this song, going viral? It's all about connecting infinite referential mirrors. What makes this video interesting are not its individual parts but the signifier links it draws. Let's look at the individual parts: ONE: The song is a Brazilian funk or "pancadão" song called MC Lan e MC WM - Sua Amiga Vou Pegar, these days part of what's broadly referred as Brazilian phonk or just phonk (not to be confused with the original phonk, a Memphis-derived genre from the early 2010s built around chopped Three 6 Mafia samples, cowbells and lo-fi tape hiss and etc. The Brazilian version comes an entirely different lineage and got its name adapted from “funk” to “phonk” exclusively because the names sounded similar. It has a similarly menacing posture but swaps the rap cadence for funk's 4/4 with kicks on 1 and 3 rhythm and a much heavier, distorted 808 synth sound). Phonk is often used for its exaggerated reverb feeling bass lines to signify power, style or simply "aura", which you can take as a shorthand for poise, coolness, being de-bon-air and a general detached positive feeling of high status. Aura. Because most users cannot understand the Portuguese lyrics (which are often quite vulgar and sexual), the singing takes the characteristic of a chant, something to be appreciated entirely for its sound, texture and gravitas. The vocals are just another instrument where you can appreciate the menace and swagger of the delivery directly without the cognitive friction of meaning. Non-Portuguese-speaking audiences are not missing anything they were supposed to get, they get “the vibe” that matters, which is not lyrical. These songs are often paired with (male) characters that are taken to display these traits like American Psycho's Patrick Bateman (yes, yes I know that’s the opposite of what you should feel about the character), Peaky Blinder's Thomas Shelby and a menagerie of anime characters like Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen), Yujiro Hanma (Baki) and Goku and, really, any male character that is just a little bit cool. TWO: The man in the suit is a minor Family Guy character called Tom Tucker. The reference comes from a scene where Meg sees him walking through her school and says "It's Tom Tucker from the news!” We then cut to her POV, where he is walking in slow motion with soft romantic music swelling and birds chirping, the whole love-at-first-sight trope. Then a camera crew member off-screen yells "hurry up Mr. Tucker," and we get to see he is not walking in slow motion because Meg is infatuated, he is just walking that slowly in real life. Only the music and the birds were in her head. The gag is built on the viewer recognizing the romantic-slow-motion trope, briefly accepting it as the scene's reality, and then being shown that we (and Meg) projected the trope onto what is actually just a man walking very slowly. HA! The original gag is already about projection: a neutral image (slow walk) being assigned an external meaning (romance) by a viewer's pattern-recognition. This is what makes the edit-culture appropriation work so well. The clip got stripped of its context, paired with phonk and text overlays (AURA or “Me and the boys going to detention”), and retroactively assigned a new meaning, only this time it’s the cinematic nonchalant walk, the slow deliberate gait that signifies a man who knows he's the most important thing in the frame (ta la any 1980s Schwazerneggerian action movie hero walking away from an explosion without looking back, every yakuza boss entering a room, every western gunslinger approaching the duel). The edit is ostensibly projecting a trope onto a neutral image. The first projection was romance; the second projection is aura. Family Guy clips and gifs are easy to access and repost, which makes it a readily available and easy to use building block. The show has, through sheer volume of output and over two decades of YouTube and cable TV saturation, become a kind of public-domain visual library, a default vocabulary that any editor can pull from knowing the audience will recognize the source without having to be told, and we can just keep loading meaning onto it. THREE: The character in the background is Tom, from Tom and Jerry, doing a pose made famous by an iShowSpeed fan who encountered him during a livestream. By quickly and correctly identifying Speed by his full legal name ("Darren Jason Watkins Jr"), she showcased herself to be a true fan, which he responded to with his characteristic exaggerated reactions. The pose the girl hit, with the knowing look to the camera, produced a perfect “aura moment” complete commitment, zero irony, the unshakeable conviction that what she was doing was the coolest possible thing to do. As a result, the clip then got endlessly edited with "aura 🥶🥶🥶" captions to canonize it. Aura, in this lexicon, is not granted by the universe; it is summoned by the person's own belief that they have it and by displaying the correct attitude. Tom is also dressed as the previously mentioned Thomas Shelby from Peaky Blinders, which is itself a double signifier. The name match (“Thomas”, get it?) and the suit-and-flat-cap costume turn the cartoon cat into a stand-in for the perhaps most used "high-aura" male character of the past decade, the brooding gangster patriarch whose every cigarette drag has been set to phonk, cinematic scores and electronic music a thousand times over. On top of that, he is made entirely out of chrome, a popular trope of asking ChatGPT (one of the few AI tools people have easy and broad access to) to render things out of very high quality materials to indicate "rarity" or "status" like diamonds, platinum and etc. A sign that itself descends from a longer lineage of in-game cosmetic rarity tiers (League of Legends, MMOs, various skin economy freemium game, the Fortnite battle pass, the Pokémon shiny, dacha games and etc) where material finish is the visual shorthand of value. So "chrome" or "platinum" Tom on top of all previous signifiers signals a “maximized” or “maxxd” version. The image is suppose to invoke the superlative highest possible tier, rarest-drop, legendary-rarity version of aura, the way a kid in a playground would describe their dad as not just strong but the strongest in the world. FOUR: Finally, the background black hole calls back to the original Tom image, where he is surrounded by the universe itself, having ascended. The character has transcended the diegetic frame of his own cartoon and now exists at a cosmological scale, with the black hole standing in for the kind of unmotivated, vibes-based "cosmic" imagery that has become the default background for any video trying to signify that something Big is happening (the same visual motif that has powered comic book characters, anime transformations, video game power ups and anything wants to feel grandiose or “epic” without specifying what about). The black hole means significance in the abstract. At this point I think you understand the mechanism at play here. None of these references resolve to a stable meaning on their own. Tom Tucker is “cool” only in the very short context in which his image served as a substrate; he was convenient footage to pair with a song, and the absurdity of doing an "aura edit" on such a minor, strange character scene makes it all funnier and easier to share. Tom-the-cat is doing the aura pose > the aura pose comes from the iShowSpeed girl > the iShowSpeed girl was cool because she correctly played her part in an established bit of a large streamer with the correct timing and theatrical flair > the bit was cool because it was a shared convention unified by a popular central streamer figure > the convention existed because phonk edits had already trained this exact scenario to be read as confidence-plus-detachment as aura > the chrome finish points to AI image generation quirks > the AI image generation style can be mapped to gaming visual rarity shorthands; the gaming rarity tiers point to a much older logic of precious-metal-as-status. Each step on the referential chain is propped by the one behind it, and the one behind it is propped up by the one behind that, so on and so forth. There is no natural endpoint, the entire structure functions more akin to a network than a linked list. If you stop at any single point and ask "but why is particular signifier cool or funny or interesting”, the answer is always "because of the thing behind it.” It’s hyper-citation, Here, what matters is the structure of the whole rather than the content. This is structure is what I mean by infinite referential mirrors. The rate at which a concept is referencing, remixing and calling back to another is what’s interesting. In other words, It’s the velocity that matters. The chain of recognitions, each "I get that reference," and the cumulative effect of getting six references stacked on top of each other a short span of time gives you the feeling that you are participating in something dense and alive, because it allows you to recognize the shared meme ecosystem of the platform that you are participating in, even if only a glimpse of it. You are inside the culture rather than outside it. The brainrot-curious reader who watches this video and feels nothing, has “failed” to understand the joke because they are outside the hall of mirrors I am describing. You can only get the magic if you step in and start counting the reflections: the song, the suit, the cat, the chrome, the black hole, the transitions the video uses. You are looking at connected parts of this network of symbols and at the speed at which one image hands you off to the next. The entire thirteen-second clip is functioning as a single compressed referential payload that decompresses in the viewer's head into a small private essay exactly like this one. The video allows you to recognize yourself as someone capable of decoding it, and that recognition is the reward. That’s why media like this goes viral.
0:13

I would like to explain the latest batch of viral videos I'm working on to the bemused brainrot-curious reader who is not familiar with "the culture". Why are these characters, mixed with this song, going viral? It's all about connecting infinite referential mirrors. What makes this video interesting are not its individual parts but the signifier links it draws. Let's look at the individual parts: ONE: The song is a Brazilian funk or "pancadão" song called MC Lan e MC WM - Sua Amiga Vou Pegar, these days part of what's broadly referred as Brazilian phonk or just phonk (not to be confused with the original phonk, a Memphis-derived genre from the early 2010s built around chopped Three 6 Mafia samples, cowbells and lo-fi tape hiss and etc. The Brazilian version comes an entirely different lineage and got its name adapted from “funk” to “phonk” exclusively because the names sounded similar. It has a similarly menacing posture but swaps the rap cadence for funk's 4/4 with kicks on 1 and 3 rhythm and a much heavier, distorted 808 synth sound). Phonk is often used for its exaggerated reverb feeling bass lines to signify power, style or simply "aura", which you can take as a shorthand for poise, coolness, being de-bon-air and a general detached positive feeling of high status. Aura. Because most users cannot understand the Portuguese lyrics (which are often quite vulgar and sexual), the singing takes the characteristic of a chant, something to be appreciated entirely for its sound, texture and gravitas. The vocals are just another instrument where you can appreciate the menace and swagger of the delivery directly without the cognitive friction of meaning. Non-Portuguese-speaking audiences are not missing anything they were supposed to get, they get “the vibe” that matters, which is not lyrical. These songs are often paired with (male) characters that are taken to display these traits like American Psycho's Patrick Bateman (yes, yes I know that’s the opposite of what you should feel about the character), Peaky Blinder's Thomas Shelby and a menagerie of anime characters like Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen), Yujiro Hanma (Baki) and Goku and, really, any male character that is just a little bit cool. TWO: The man in the suit is a minor Family Guy character called Tom Tucker. The reference comes from a scene where Meg sees him walking through her school and says "It's Tom Tucker from the news!” We then cut to her POV, where he is walking in slow motion with soft romantic music swelling and birds chirping, the whole love-at-first-sight trope. Then a camera crew member off-screen yells "hurry up Mr. Tucker," and we get to see he is not walking in slow motion because Meg is infatuated, he is just walking that slowly in real life. Only the music and the birds were in her head. The gag is built on the viewer recognizing the romantic-slow-motion trope, briefly accepting it as the scene's reality, and then being shown that we (and Meg) projected the trope onto what is actually just a man walking very slowly. HA! The original gag is already about projection: a neutral image (slow walk) being assigned an external meaning (romance) by a viewer's pattern-recognition. This is what makes the edit-culture appropriation work so well. The clip got stripped of its context, paired with phonk and text overlays (AURA or “Me and the boys going to detention”), and retroactively assigned a new meaning, only this time it’s the cinematic nonchalant walk, the slow deliberate gait that signifies a man who knows he's the most important thing in the frame (ta la any 1980s Schwazerneggerian action movie hero walking away from an explosion without looking back, every yakuza boss entering a room, every western gunslinger approaching the duel). The edit is ostensibly projecting a trope onto a neutral image. The first projection was romance; the second projection is aura. Family Guy clips and gifs are easy to access and repost, which makes it a readily available and easy to use building block. The show has, through sheer volume of output and over two decades of YouTube and cable TV saturation, become a kind of public-domain visual library, a default vocabulary that any editor can pull from knowing the audience will recognize the source without having to be told, and we can just keep loading meaning onto it. THREE: The character in the background is Tom, from Tom and Jerry, doing a pose made famous by an iShowSpeed fan who encountered him during a livestream. By quickly and correctly identifying Speed by his full legal name ("Darren Jason Watkins Jr"), she showcased herself to be a true fan, which he responded to with his characteristic exaggerated reactions. The pose the girl hit, with the knowing look to the camera, produced a perfect “aura moment” complete commitment, zero irony, the unshakeable conviction that what she was doing was the coolest possible thing to do. As a result, the clip then got endlessly edited with "aura 🥶🥶🥶" captions to canonize it. Aura, in this lexicon, is not granted by the universe; it is summoned by the person's own belief that they have it and by displaying the correct attitude. Tom is also dressed as the previously mentioned Thomas Shelby from Peaky Blinders, which is itself a double signifier. The name match (“Thomas”, get it?) and the suit-and-flat-cap costume turn the cartoon cat into a stand-in for the perhaps most used "high-aura" male character of the past decade, the brooding gangster patriarch whose every cigarette drag has been set to phonk, cinematic scores and electronic music a thousand times over. On top of that, he is made entirely out of chrome, a popular trope of asking ChatGPT (one of the few AI tools people have easy and broad access to) to render things out of very high quality materials to indicate "rarity" or "status" like diamonds, platinum and etc. A sign that itself descends from a longer lineage of in-game cosmetic rarity tiers (League of Legends, MMOs, various skin economy freemium game, the Fortnite battle pass, the Pokémon shiny, dacha games and etc) where material finish is the visual shorthand of value. So "chrome" or "platinum" Tom on top of all previous signifiers signals a “maximized” or “maxxd” version. The image is suppose to invoke the superlative highest possible tier, rarest-drop, legendary-rarity version of aura, the way a kid in a playground would describe their dad as not just strong but the strongest in the world. FOUR: Finally, the background black hole calls back to the original Tom image, where he is surrounded by the universe itself, having ascended. The character has transcended the diegetic frame of his own cartoon and now exists at a cosmological scale, with the black hole standing in for the kind of unmotivated, vibes-based "cosmic" imagery that has become the default background for any video trying to signify that something Big is happening (the same visual motif that has powered comic book characters, anime transformations, video game power ups and anything wants to feel grandiose or “epic” without specifying what about). The black hole means significance in the abstract. At this point I think you understand the mechanism at play here. None of these references resolve to a stable meaning on their own. Tom Tucker is “cool” only in the very short context in which his image served as a substrate; he was convenient footage to pair with a song, and the absurdity of doing an "aura edit" on such a minor, strange character scene makes it all funnier and easier to share. Tom-the-cat is doing the aura pose > the aura pose comes from the iShowSpeed girl > the iShowSpeed girl was cool because she correctly played her part in an established bit of a large streamer with the correct timing and theatrical flair > the bit was cool because it was a shared convention unified by a popular central streamer figure > the convention existed because phonk edits had already trained this exact scenario to be read as confidence-plus-detachment as aura > the chrome finish points to AI image generation quirks > the AI image generation style can be mapped to gaming visual rarity shorthands; the gaming rarity tiers point to a much older logic of precious-metal-as-status. Each step on the referential chain is propped by the one behind it, and the one behind it is propped up by the one behind that, so on and so forth. There is no natural endpoint, the entire structure functions more akin to a network than a linked list. If you stop at any single point and ask "but why is particular signifier cool or funny or interesting”, the answer is always "because of the thing behind it.” It’s hyper-citation, Here, what matters is the structure of the whole rather than the content. This is structure is what I mean by infinite referential mirrors. The rate at which a concept is referencing, remixing and calling back to another is what’s interesting. In other words, It’s the velocity that matters. The chain of recognitions, each "I get that reference," and the cumulative effect of getting six references stacked on top of each other a short span of time gives you the feeling that you are participating in something dense and alive, because it allows you to recognize the shared meme ecosystem of the platform that you are participating in, even if only a glimpse of it. You are inside the culture rather than outside it. The brainrot-curious reader who watches this video and feels nothing, has “failed” to understand the joke because they are outside the hall of mirrors I am describing. You can only get the magic if you step in and start counting the reflections: the song, the suit, the cat, the chrome, the black hole, the transitions the video uses. You are looking at connected parts of this network of symbols and at the speed at which one image hands you off to the next. The entire thirteen-second clip is functioning as a single compressed referential payload that decompresses in the viewer's head into a small private essay exactly like this one. The video allows you to recognize yourself as someone capable of decoding it, and that recognition is the reward. That’s why media like this goes viral.

Pleometric

69,255 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce

Saturday - Adam Friedland This musical intro was the best part of the show. The rest of his act just made me miss Nick Mullen. Unlike every other show this week, there were girls there. They seem to love this guy. I used him as bait, to get the girl from Wednesday to go out with me again. She loves Red Scare Podcast and this Jewish twink is a staple of the Red Scare Extended Universe and I wanted to fuck her and so let's go see Adam Friedland. The problem with Adam is that he has no conviction. He does not own the room, he's just filling space. He announced that his father was there, in the crowd, which is great, let's hear something that might make your father uncomfortable. No such thing was said. He stared at the floor for half the set, as if he was sorry for being there. I saw Mulaney the night before; the difference was stark. Mulaney can get away with being a sheepish pushover twink Sometimes because he also has balls. He can accelerate from "Aw shucks" to "SHUCK YOU MOTHERSHUCKER" and both versions of himself feel true. Look, I get it, being a sad sorry pushover is his schtick and it works with the voice and it's very relatable for sensitive young men who didn't do sports in high school but to carry a room for a full hour you also need to be able to fight back. I could hear Nick's intonations in his voice. But it's clear that Mulldog spent all his creative energy this week ghostwriting the white guys' lines for the Roast of Kevin Hart and so Friedland was left to fend for himself, comedically. The mark of whether a comedian is delivering or not, for me, is whether I hold my piss in to keep hearing them. This was not the case on Saturday night. I recall stepping out and getting a good look at the crowd, and Friedland bumbling through his completely forgettable material, and thinking: this makes me feel like I could start stand up comedy today and dominate the genre. I have this instinct to say: Adam's young! He'll get better! But he's not. He won't. He's 39. He doesn't have the neuroplasticity. He crossed the Sensitive Young Man threshold ten years ago. Mulaney at 43 could be his father now. He's a "much better interviewer" apparently. I tuned out after Cumtown ended because frankly I don't give a shit about the middle east, and that's 90% of what he talks about. Different strokes. I asked some guy in the bathroom, mid-piss: "what would you rate this show, out of 10?" He said: ehh, like a 6. He's a much better interviewer. I don't hate Adam Friedland, I just wish there was anybody to be excited about in stand up comedy. Between this mens' magazine giving me a $500 stipend to "report" on all these shows and the $474 ticket to Gillis and the $432 ticket to Chappelle and the $741 ticket to Mulaney and all the drinks they make you buy at these things I'm feeling like a huge sunk cost leech on the world. Just taking people's money and using it to complain. At least my date seemed to be having a good time. I wrapped my hand around her low back and leaned into her head, wanting her but not sure how to say it. It's much easier to express that kind of thing on blow. Later that night I K-holed in public. Erica and I took way too much in the front seat of the van. We were outside a rave at 3 AM, they asked me to produce a QR code on my phone, I could barely stand. I felt like I was moving in 2D. The fat security guard barely flinched as I walked past him in slow heavy steps, like a penguin, marching into this densely fogged room with colorful lights and loud bumping trance music where all I could stand to do was lean against the heavily breathing walls. I tried to dance with the girl but it probably looked retarded. I didn't try to interact with anyone, I was too far gone. I thought of Karen, as I do every time I take K. The girl led me through the venue, as I worried I would fall over or walk straight into a wall. I worried about how bad this must look, how retarded I must look, wearing this huge XXL t-shirt tucked in to my pants that don't even fit that well because I have anterior pelvic tilt and no ass. I looked and felt like a clown. A failed clown. I was smiling painfully at Erica, looking down at her, and she was doing the same to me. We found a bathroom and I forced my way in. The ketamine was NOT wearing off. I felt my heart beating hard and my head spinning like I could have thrown up but there was nothing in my stomach besides liquid—no food all day besides a croissant at 2PM. I had downed some random person's red wine glass at the last bar. I worried it might have been spiked. I leaned with my head against the wall, sweating, wishing it would end, brutally aware that Erica's out there waiting for me, my friends are out there waiting for me, wondering if I'm okay, thinking he's too fucked up, he can't handle himself, I thought Thomas was always okay and always in control no matter what, they're losing confidence in me, they're losing confidence in themselves for associating with me, what is this big colorful retarded clown shirt I'm wearing I must look like such a fool right now I can't face these people, I can never face them ever again, my face must look so evil ugly and strained, I splash my face with water but it doesn't help, run it through my hair but it doesn't help, get the water all over my shirt but then it just looks like I threw up on myself or pissed myself or something, and I don't have another shirt, should I go out there shirtless, no that's worse, how am I ever going to leave this bathroom, why won't this K wear off, now Erica's calling me, texting me, are you okay, eventually they're just gonna bust in here I know, fine, I can do it, I'm opening the door, yes, I come out, she's still there, good, good girl. She leads me outside. I feel 10% better. I lead her straight to the van. We get in. I tell her to lay with me. Just like on the first night we met. Head spinning, chest heaving, completely exhausted, just lay with me. She asks are you okay and I say for the first time, no. No, I am actually not okay. I blame Adam Friedland. Overall rating: 4/10. Have Nick write your jokes or just stick to interviews.
0:19

Saturday - Adam Friedland This musical intro was the best part of the show. The rest of his act just made me miss Nick Mullen. Unlike every other show this week, there were girls there. They seem to love this guy. I used him as bait, to get the girl from Wednesday to go out with me again. She loves Red Scare Podcast and this Jewish twink is a staple of the Red Scare Extended Universe and I wanted to fuck her and so let's go see Adam Friedland. The problem with Adam is that he has no conviction. He does not own the room, he's just filling space. He announced that his father was there, in the crowd, which is great, let's hear something that might make your father uncomfortable. No such thing was said. He stared at the floor for half the set, as if he was sorry for being there. I saw Mulaney the night before; the difference was stark. Mulaney can get away with being a sheepish pushover twink Sometimes because he also has balls. He can accelerate from "Aw shucks" to "SHUCK YOU MOTHERSHUCKER" and both versions of himself feel true. Look, I get it, being a sad sorry pushover is his schtick and it works with the voice and it's very relatable for sensitive young men who didn't do sports in high school but to carry a room for a full hour you also need to be able to fight back. I could hear Nick's intonations in his voice. But it's clear that Mulldog spent all his creative energy this week ghostwriting the white guys' lines for the Roast of Kevin Hart and so Friedland was left to fend for himself, comedically. The mark of whether a comedian is delivering or not, for me, is whether I hold my piss in to keep hearing them. This was not the case on Saturday night. I recall stepping out and getting a good look at the crowd, and Friedland bumbling through his completely forgettable material, and thinking: this makes me feel like I could start stand up comedy today and dominate the genre. I have this instinct to say: Adam's young! He'll get better! But he's not. He won't. He's 39. He doesn't have the neuroplasticity. He crossed the Sensitive Young Man threshold ten years ago. Mulaney at 43 could be his father now. He's a "much better interviewer" apparently. I tuned out after Cumtown ended because frankly I don't give a shit about the middle east, and that's 90% of what he talks about. Different strokes. I asked some guy in the bathroom, mid-piss: "what would you rate this show, out of 10?" He said: ehh, like a 6. He's a much better interviewer. I don't hate Adam Friedland, I just wish there was anybody to be excited about in stand up comedy. Between this mens' magazine giving me a $500 stipend to "report" on all these shows and the $474 ticket to Gillis and the $432 ticket to Chappelle and the $741 ticket to Mulaney and all the drinks they make you buy at these things I'm feeling like a huge sunk cost leech on the world. Just taking people's money and using it to complain. At least my date seemed to be having a good time. I wrapped my hand around her low back and leaned into her head, wanting her but not sure how to say it. It's much easier to express that kind of thing on blow. Later that night I K-holed in public. Erica and I took way too much in the front seat of the van. We were outside a rave at 3 AM, they asked me to produce a QR code on my phone, I could barely stand. I felt like I was moving in 2D. The fat security guard barely flinched as I walked past him in slow heavy steps, like a penguin, marching into this densely fogged room with colorful lights and loud bumping trance music where all I could stand to do was lean against the heavily breathing walls. I tried to dance with the girl but it probably looked retarded. I didn't try to interact with anyone, I was too far gone. I thought of Karen, as I do every time I take K. The girl led me through the venue, as I worried I would fall over or walk straight into a wall. I worried about how bad this must look, how retarded I must look, wearing this huge XXL t-shirt tucked in to my pants that don't even fit that well because I have anterior pelvic tilt and no ass. I looked and felt like a clown. A failed clown. I was smiling painfully at Erica, looking down at her, and she was doing the same to me. We found a bathroom and I forced my way in. The ketamine was NOT wearing off. I felt my heart beating hard and my head spinning like I could have thrown up but there was nothing in my stomach besides liquid—no food all day besides a croissant at 2PM. I had downed some random person's red wine glass at the last bar. I worried it might have been spiked. I leaned with my head against the wall, sweating, wishing it would end, brutally aware that Erica's out there waiting for me, my friends are out there waiting for me, wondering if I'm okay, thinking he's too fucked up, he can't handle himself, I thought Thomas was always okay and always in control no matter what, they're losing confidence in me, they're losing confidence in themselves for associating with me, what is this big colorful retarded clown shirt I'm wearing I must look like such a fool right now I can't face these people, I can never face them ever again, my face must look so evil ugly and strained, I splash my face with water but it doesn't help, run it through my hair but it doesn't help, get the water all over my shirt but then it just looks like I threw up on myself or pissed myself or something, and I don't have another shirt, should I go out there shirtless, no that's worse, how am I ever going to leave this bathroom, why won't this K wear off, now Erica's calling me, texting me, are you okay, eventually they're just gonna bust in here I know, fine, I can do it, I'm opening the door, yes, I come out, she's still there, good, good girl. She leads me outside. I feel 10% better. I lead her straight to the van. We get in. I tell her to lay with me. Just like on the first night we met. Head spinning, chest heaving, completely exhausted, just lay with me. She asks are you okay and I say for the first time, no. No, I am actually not okay. I blame Adam Friedland. Overall rating: 4/10. Have Nick write your jokes or just stick to interviews.

Worst Boyfriend Ever

98,086 görüntüleme • 2 ay önce