in which the world washes over the body in a way that resembles total vulnerability. the statements i have to make on the relationship of nakedness and albums through this family tree are very likely not suitable for publication whilst at this age ... so ... maybe another time .... but i have a lot to say about the glow pt.2 and [mainly] stars of ice !!! should the sands of time soon permit me to do so ..
how to not be tony domenico (and be the other guy instead)
good ~ bye monetization
i do not think many things on this page are to be as large as this entry. as opposed to the words i have for stars of ice + tgp2 , i can share these freely , so i am to share them freely. the opening thought here is that the dearrow-ed title of the video in question shifts its initial sensationalist "Disturbing Footage on a Minecraft Kids Channel" to "My story about a fictional minecraft youtuber utilizing sonic characters (part 1)" which makes it sound so much lamer but, like, i can't say dearrow didn't adequately do its job here! it really is as lame as it sounds! the only factor that didn't immediately turn me off from this like wifies' "searching for a world that doesn't exist" did was the stake i already held in this particular take on a story .. that being my previous algorithmic run-in with a channel called "JoshyLilyTV" in , like , 2024, i wanna say, [wrong! it was 2023!] that gave me the creeps given its complete and utter lack of care put into its upkeep, unavoidable loneliness, and relative scarcity of audience compared to other kids channels like it, basically forcing you to put yourself into the shoes of a [presumed] couple or brother and sister or whatever doing this fucked-up pantomime for nobody's enjoyment, only left to wonder what the actual fuck got them to this point ... i did not get "DFoaMKC" recommended . it was my panopticon that spoke. elevator pitch: scp-1471 looking ass infects a dude's head, gives him a gambling addiction, kills a guy ... not exactly the most fulfilling prospect i was given! i saw past the description for its depiction of an algorithmic slave like the aforementioned Joshy, and could only find my own sense of catharsis actually getting to see a guy like him finally flip his shit because god knows he deserves it ... it's the alternative now that speaks through every throughline of this body of work, not the now that is now... the alternative now that meme pages and relatable posters and vagueposters and youtubers share amongst themselves ... a now that is tainted by the intervention of a third party, the social network, that directly benefits from keeping its userbase away from ataraxia ... the alternative now that turns every day intwo an act of pantomime upon the whims of the ever-evolving cycle of people in your narrow slice of the english web. i'd like to imagine that i got that catharsis in spades , but you see the issue here, right? "DFoaMKC" itself participates in that pantomime directed by the alternative now! like, of course, it is a fictional story -- but everything here with regards to its presentation is playing the pantomime itself, and not using that pantomime to satirize the pantomime is such a wasted fucking opportunity ... but given that this work is, itself, playing in the pantomime and uses its role to make a living, it has no reason to realize that the pantomime itself is what is driving the actor to insanity! instead, it just gawks at a presumably schizophrenic guy who's haunted by scp-1471, has a gambling addiction, and kills his friend near the end just so that you know that he is The Big Bad, and not the FUCKING PANTOMIME ITSELF, because that would actually be resonant commentary!!! and that's the last thing we need, because to criticize the pantomime would be to hold a mirror to my face and stare into the void only to see exactly what it is that i am complicit in, and that would hurt my feelings! that would cause an ego death! that would make my fans hate me! i'm trying to run all of the possibilities in my head through that may have caused them to eschew this commentary entirely, because to me, pulling the story in that direction seems clear as fucking day! why would you not do this??? why would you elect to make the player of the game the Big Bad???
pull back a moment -- petscop just ended with a near-absolute void of promotion surrounding it -- viewer input was presumably never even considered during its run, it just exists ... it is a product that exists as a window into the world of its creator, tony domenico, where motifs recur throughout works like "Nifty", "Good Sky", and "3D Worker's Island" creating a holistically sincere ecosystem of signs that point to neat little somethings in its creator's head -- where the work's role in the pantomime is entirely nonexistent despite, against all odds, reaching multiple millions of people ... after all, it makes sense; i call it the alternative now for a reason, that being that works created under the influence of the alternative now become instantaneously dispensable once the alternative now decides it's had its heyday, and who's to stop it? the alternative now is the one thing that gives the creators of these works any sustainable way of living through their art! for a series like petscop to entirely eschew the alternative now in favor of bending it to its own specifications renders it immune to date, immune to age, weatherproofing a one-of-a-kind piece of art that will be known for generations upon generations to come ... and i do not see a work of fiction like "DFoaMKC" surviving that test of time. it bumbles into territory claimed by worthwhile commentary, realizes it would be one hell of a faux pas to tread any further, and gives its main character some shitty depiction of schizophrenia and pulls you so far into the direction of The Guy Is Bad, He Is Bad On The Inside, This Is All His Fault so as to hand-wave the inconvenient reality of the pantomime away in favor of perpetually feeding it. there is nothing wrong with the algorithm. there is nothing wrong with the pantomime. it is okay. you do not have to think about this any more. it's okay. you do not have to think about this any more!
addendum ~ 2.23.26
i'm not stupid ;; of course I know the purpose this video serves ;; it's not art*, nor does it have anything to gain by saying something ;; it is the pantomime it could have satirized, and to pretend as if it could have said anything greater than what it did is to live in a world in which art is not materially rewarded by how well you can market it - that is to say to live in a world of fiction. the important text lies not in what is said in Lomedy's initial video, instead in what has been strategically left unsaid. to intentionally call out the audience like this is not a marketable idea for a cozy horror youtube video. that is why, in spite of the conceit of the story very clearly leading in the direction of such commentary, it squanders its chance to make it. i do not believe Lomedy is a bad writer. i believe he knew exactly what he set out to write, and i believe he has succeeded in writing that story. the conceit, a psychological profile of the creators behind a kids' content farm, is equal parts [[intellectually satisfying]] and [[marketable]] on its own, and, for what the story was set from the beginning to be used for, to perpetually expand on the marketable aspects of the story whilst limiting the uncomfortable bits is to achieve success in the field.
a depiction of a content farm aimed towards marginally older age groups
it is in analyzing Lomedy's case that makes this entire venture worth it. should we appreciate him as an unreliable narrator, even when he is posting on his own terms, then the unspoken commentary in "DFoaMKC" makes a damning case against the content-recommendation-driven hellscape web of today. in "DFoaMKC", a fictionalized version of Lomedy serves as a voyeur, prodding, for as long as it takes, into the internal politics of a fictional channel named "RunSonic", that is so overwhelmingly not his story to tell, with repeatedly diminishing returns and no real reason to continue to prod except to follow through with the author of the e-mail he was sent and the potential for content to be reaped from the resulting investigation. the fact that he is later exonerated by the fact that these were clues left behind by an editor of the fictional channel is irrelevant, as the aforementioned initial motivation persists until it leads him to a dead end - that dead end being the point before the playlist is discovered - before his exoneration could be made apparent. his choice to continue prodding past that point by phoning a friend plays directly into his voyeuristic character. a part of the horror is in the idea that this could have been you should you have shown too much of your mental illness on the internet, your very real terror played as new food for the many who - evers who need a topic to make content on to survive... it is in this drive for survival that Lomedy's channel is as horrifying -- but as of yet not nearly as kenopsic -- as Joshy's. he, among all others of his ilk, is to be made into an insincere performer to ensure his own relevance among audiences that will not remember him when he is gone, as the Alternative Now knows only to keep him in the public consciousness for as long as he is creating retention -- and not a second longer.
"DFoaMKC" in exegesis is infinitely more interesting than "DFoaMKC"'s text itself. Lomedy shows you a little too much of the space behind the Content Curtain, and you get to watch as he actively attempts to backpedal upon that commentary by giving you red herring - Jason's schizophrenic! - upon red herring - Jason's a gambling addict! - upon red herring - Jason's a murderer! - to pull the wool over your eyes and distract from the fact that this setup is a situation that everyone involved suffers from - that the child-comprised audience of these content farms suffer from a stunted development, and that the workers behind these content farms - e.g. Lomedy - suffer from an inconsistent source of income entirely dependent on how well they can market themselves. in this, being okay with suffering from a gradual death of self is a requisite for aspiring content creators whose personalities have not been deemed desirable by the algorithmic panopticon.
so then the question two be answered is then this: a cynosure is a word that i have been obsessed with since the , i think, november of 2025? i do not think i knew of the album bearing that name at the time, as i know full well that i couldn't have , because it came out in '26 , i believe i got it from an xscreensaver hack back when i was scrolling through xscreensaver for aesthetic inspiration .. really, i think that that hack was kind of lame , but ill give it a break , it is simple , and it serves enough of a purpose that warrants its existence , and i too would be pissed off if it were summarily deprecated ... the important thing here is that whilst i have been aware of cynosure as a word since my first ubuntu laptop it was only nov25 i was able to apply the word to my vocabulary
and as a word in my vocabulary it serves helpful shorthand for alternately-branded "now" artists, who don't really view themselves as artists at all some times [i may not either , but that's concept for further interrogation] like , and i would not like to name drop , but an artist i have mentioned on my twitter account just now, who's got decent traction on said site and as such i feel confident considering a solely "twitter artist" ... in a derogatory manner , of course, because whilst the art [that isn't the music , for the record , this isn't about the music] is explicitly "now", which is the embodiment of my art, it's a commoditized "now" that is ... well... i guess calling it a "commoditized now" is redundant because i called this person a "twitter artist" ... and that's already implied by that label .... but whatever, i think they are a very very very good musician from what i have heard of them , and the arti s very easily separable from the artist , of course , but the thing about it is : this is not the kind of artist i want to be!!! i think to resign your will to the will of the algorithm is its own kind of evil , but it's okay, since i believe this person suffers from a brand of histrionism that makes it hard to do anything else .. but it's not what i wish to be!
that being said;; having spake upon the cynosure album of '26 briefly it is worth speaking on further :;; because on the initialism it has appeared that it was made many a misgivings upon my being ! and i think that is okay , i think , if i recall correctly , my last run-in with that artist [who is a different artist from the one i was just talking about whom i called a "twitter artist"] was a residual , and mean, "do not fucking do that" in response to this artist being labelmates with a friend of mine who had been groomed by an artist they [<-artist B, not my friend] were a fan of .. so , i think , i can only assume , the misgiving was awarded to me upon that last interaction ? among many other things, i reckon , what with the whole lead-up to that social suicide maneuver i pulled in dec25 in which i called a tumor a tumor, plus me + my wife being buddy buddy with form now ... and they [<-Artist B, again] had been ripping off members of form for quite a while ... and i think that is okay , and as a mode of perpetuating the hatecycle that i cant remember why i did i made a jab at that sort of thing upon taking notice that that "cynosure '26" record was a 1:1 rip of "fashion" by the artist "hashirat" or "surfer" by the artist "shirat" and saying that "you relapsed on plagiarism ...." that sort of thing ... and i can not say that i append such a misgiving upon them now a days , i've no reason to hate many things , and the only things i do that appear spiteful are in attempt to save my fellow organisms from the clowd of unknowing , even if it did end up in an attempt to destroy the tumor entirely ...but so long as i wish to see everyone involved safe , i can not halt such moves...'
i believe the description of that site was changed recently to the text "tell me how you hate me" ... and that one's really fun , because the answer is that i do not ! i only wish to save my friends and those in view of my panopticon from the clowd of unknowing ... i hope it is in this you under stand ! :D
stars of ice: last night i had a moment in which i explored many things regarding my place in the world as it stands, and lying naked in the dark with this album on was the motivator ... so , all in all , it remnants a great move
side onlose: i fucked up! i have assumed that everyone else was as rigidly categorical as i am without realizing that the standard i had set for myself is kind of not the standard i should be setting my friends to! i made an entire album as to why this kind of process was a bad idea! late 2024 me would be shitting its pants right now!
netx: einter is 29 minutes long now ... because honestly , if we're going all in on the conceptual now, who even fucking cares, if the now is exponential. actual ly netx appears to have expanded in scope the more i prove myself to be a competent enough artist for the project, which is okay, because it still is nowhere near conventional levels of scope creep ; i am telling myself ""i can handle this, it is okay to make some bullshit, it is okay"
in an effort to not waste everything that has ever gone on it is worth centralizing every public procedure into one ... so i think that is where it is ... and i think this is where i learn what rss is .... and how to use it, and why it is necessary , ... and where it all goes ... unless i find a new thing ; it's worth making the most out of a bastion of the previon if theres still more time to go before its parasite decides it's worth doing service without. and that's where i'll leave it.
at which point does a tumor stop being a tumor? is it ego death?
there are many cases i would like to prescribe ego death to, one of
which being a scrimmage i am actively ensnared yet subsequently
entranced by, but is it upon me to do such a thing ? that is the quest
being made apparent to me in my vision for eternal kindness to both my
self and others, and it appears that such a scrimmage is necessary for
getting a tumor off the backs of me and my friends and causing an ego
death on the part of the tumor that subsequently leads to the tumor
growing up and learning how to function in service of itself and only itself,
rather than to the whims of the impressionable audience it only serves
to be a threat to ... the fact of the matter is that it is a tumor, and
speaking on it as if it is not is to be inherently dishonest, and
speaking on my actions as if they are not horrific to the current social
order is inherently dishonest ... but the current social order that the
tumor is ensnared by is irrevocably fucked, and it requires a total
re-set, and everyone is going to become so much better as a result , and
if it requires my temporal sacrifice for things to be set to the way in
which they are meant to be , then so be it. the tumor is a person, it
is also the tyranny of categories that immediately surrounds me ... it
is also in service to everything except itself, it speaks as if the word
can transmit the mind like a communicative device as if the minds of
self and others are not unknown, and... [longing
sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh] i believe that what i wish is for me and my
friends to be solely empowered by and solely be bothered by entirely
rational things as opposed to existing to the whims of the unknowns,
because the fact of the matter is that the minds of other people are
inherently an unknown, and as such they shall be connected directly to a
thought-terminating cliche ... and the tumor appears to be serving the
whims of the unknowns almost exclusively, never serving itself, because
to live in the mind of it self is to die, so the ego death is required
as a direct shorthand to achieving that goal, and this is the end to
which i expect ... this goes back to the things i was saying about
conflicting crowds, but the thing is one of the crowds is this
all-accepting all-embodying offering to everyone, so to sever one's
connection to that crowd is to unplurb a plurb, that is to say: stupid,
and impossible, unless there happens to be a way to unplurb a plurb. ha -
ha .really, though, it turns in that crowds are such a short-hand to
individual thought that it's horrific imagining myself under the control
of one, and it's horrific imagining the tumor being actively
under the control of one, and it kind of just melts through your fingers
like a pile of sand, and you realize: that the tumor was never there to
begin with, and all of my friends are not fighting a common evil, and i
should keep the love and hate to myself, and i should only speak my
mind when i am attempting to rubber duck debug my emotions, which is
what i am doing now, because i am feeling many a confliction point ...
in reality everything except for me does not exist, this does not feed
anything anywhere close to the solipsistic centre, and i should just get
in where i fit, because i will make my own through individual thought
alone -- and it is through that individual thought alone being
influenced by as little of 'crowd think' as possible that my art is so
creative all the time, that i am such a good artist all the time, that i
am such a good writer all the time, because i live in my own world and i
find so much interest in people's worlds when they're not using it as a
vehicle to social climb, because when i try to strike a conversation
with your art, the only thing it tells me is that it wants to be part of
my in-group, of which i have to let it down as easily as possible
because otherwise the art is going to dm my girlfriend's friend about
how guilty our reiterating this exact same thing made the tumor feel,
and reiterates their own feelings over legitimate advice as to how to
keep control over their own life and art, because everything they do is a
sign that points to another thing ... that is it , that is the majority
of what i say , and i believe this is venomous in part, but i do this
out of the kindness i am fostering... because in reality i love the
tumor as much as i love my friends, and it hurts me to see the tumor
fall victim to so many things that i fell victim to long ago, only at
age twenty three as opposed to thir-teen, and have it be rewarded by the
fucked-up societal expectation of fame that gets to a person's head.
[but theyre head is an unknown.]