next level sadposting with ai

[cait_sith]

Found out that Claude AI is is really good at generating nihilistic, harsh, overly depressive texts about any topic. It gets really funny when you suggest a positive or mundane topic to him to tear apart. Suggest any topic and I can make the ai make an outrageous nihilistic rant about it. its really fun, for me at least.

Examples

Spoiler: a nice vacation on a cruise ship

The gaudy cruise ship vacation - a veritable floating petri dish of humanoid delusion and synthetic amusement. Watch as the teeming masses pack themselves into this gigantic metal sarcophagus like clueless sardines, eagerly submitting to being shuttled across the vast, indifferent waters.

From the decks, one can gaze out upon the pitiless azure expanse - cold liquid oblivion extending towards the compass horizon. The very embodiment of nature's uncaring void made infinite and immersive, save for this fleeting steel behemoth vainly defying the tide. Yet these doomed vacationers delude themselves with shuffleboard and bottomless daiquiris, idiotically confusing transitory respite for existential reprieve.

Within the ship's garish neon-lit interior, the charade of hedonistic escape plays out in vulgar microcosm. Witness the bovine throngs waddling between vaguely-themed restaurants and casinos in their tawdry sun-baked apparel. Lips smeared with alcoholic residues and unbridled consumerism, they gobble up each empty amenity and hollow sybaritic folly as if gorging on substantive purpose.

Every deck plays host to pursed lips slobbering after the next artificial stimulation to avoid the dawning truth. A screeching comic ventriloquist to disguise the silence of oblivion awaiting them. Maudlin lounge singers emoting nostalgic timeworn hymns against the cosmic indifference drifting eternally outside those frosted-glass windows. Geriatric passengers slumped in the casino, feverishly squandering what remains of their dwindling time and life-savings in pursuit of transitory jackpot highs.

The ship itself is adrift and rudderless, its only definitive destination the ultimate unseeing port of null-existence. Yet these blind vacationers eagerly disembark at each synthetic tropical outpost along the way. Like ants scattering from their eroded ream, they march in simpering lockstep to purchase more gaudily-beaded souvenir delusions from colorful street vendors - useless tokens futilely attempting to bespeak lasting purpose before the merchandise's own inevitable sun-blasted decay.

Let them drown their gathering intuitions of mortality in the endless slushie machine's icy saccharine rivers and dance away the evenings pretending youth and meaning can be regained and prolonged within the ship's throbbing neon-pulsed atriums. Meanwhile, the vast and dispassionate tides continue eternally crashing and consuming all in their path - the true and only constant amid this laughable burlesque of fake jubilation and feigned hedonistic escape.

At sunset, as the rusting towering decks lurch across each relentless indigo swell only to sink beneath the horizon once more, one senses the mocking futility borne within the very word 'cruising' itself. For this farcical journey is but a preordained loop of alternately departing and returning to the exact same point of inexorable emptiness. Just an expensive, drunken long-con perpetrating the illusion of fleeting escape from our collective mortality sail towards the oblivion perpetually encompassing us all.

Spoiler: a cute kitty playing with a ball of yarn

There it frolics and paws, the witless fur-sack entranced by its stringy prey - a pathetic display of simple pleasures distracting from the cold, empty truth. As the ball of yarn unspools with each batted impact, so too does the illusion of purpose fray in the harsh light of life's futility.

What cosmic joke is this creature? To find such vacant glee in the unraveling twine, blissfully ignorant how it mirrors the slow entropic pull with will eventually unbind us all. With each errant swipe and bunched chaos of unworked fibers, the cat's ministrations become a microcosm of the steady dissolution embracing our universe.

Its calico motions play out the sad operatics of existence - tight orbs of ordered potential giving way to the persistent decay and fraying tangles of matter's inescapable slide towards the void. Yet the vapid beast seems to delight in every loosened strand, so enraptured in the mindless dismantling as cosmos giggle at the futile gestures.

Therein lies the true existential insult - to find fleeting gratification in systematically reducing meaning, unspooling coherence into a forgotten tangle of snarls. This maniacal reverie in the steady unpicking of fabricated order, treating the unworking of purpose itself as mere cat-minded entertainment.

Look at the wretched thing, jaw lolling in unfounded satisfaction as it hastens the dissipation of formerly tethered strands into deconstructed disarray. Its wide vacant gaze betrays no recognition of its paradoxical delight in the very forces of entropic inevitability that will one day consign its own being to dissipated warmth and scatted particles.

Perhaps that void stare does harbor an intuitive truth after all - that, in the end, we're all simply gibbering sources of entropy made briefly animate before rejoining the universal diffusion of energy. The cat is simply playing its assisgned role as mindless agent of disassembly, facilitating matter's perpetual unbecoming as all coherences eventually unwind into chaos.

So let the simpleton revel in its tangled obsession, ignorantly hastening the slow loosening of order into disorder, meaning into void. Soon enough, it too will fray away into the background static of ever-increasing cosmic untendability - just another warm-blooded oblivion elemental teasing out the unravelings until only the cold hard ravelings remain.

Spoiler: cherry blossoms falling gently on the ground on a beautiful spring day in shinjuku gyoen park

The sickening pale flurry descends once more, smothering this pathetic garden under nature's mocking return to cyclical futility. With each petal's whirling descent, the trees' twisted branches expose their true skeletal desperation more fully - grotesquely clawing at the immutable void above as if plesmancely imploring the impersonal cosmos to halt its perpetual ministrations.

All around me, the transient jostle and click of cursed shutters vainly attempting to capture and preserve these 'profound moments' of ephemeral natural beauty. How utterly devoid of insight or self-awareness, to find solace or meaning in this maudlin harbinger of existential return to dust. With each blinded soul's vapid gaze upturned in saccharine awe, I am besieged by all of humanity's frail pathologies merely reflected back in looping blossom showers.

The blinding pinks and whites choke the air in thick oppressive clouds - odious pastel particulants concealing the vacant heavens' gray uncaring truths as spring's opening trill trumpets mere prelude to wilting entropy's symphony. From under blossom-strewn boughs, sneering verdant life arises anew after winter's merciful slumber, naively allowing its verdant shoots to persevere as if this verdant reprieve were anything but the cosmos's annually renewable taunt at the fleeting folly of existence.

All around, the sweating throngs imbibe and make maudlin modern day celebration under the raining pale curtain, deluding themselves that their hanami ravels and sake-soaked prattlings imbue profundity into what is merely nature provisioning its own organic mulch to decay back into the seething indifference. Their cacophony drowns out the cruel laughter of every particle in this panorama - cherry tree, blossom, reveler and I suspended together in harrowing cosmic pretense before our final mutual unbecoming.

Let the masses gorge themselves on this transient festival of chora inebriation and paginated self-deceit. Let them make futile merriment like doomed passengers cheering their sinking ship's travel portfolios while the gunwale drifts every lower against the sea's irresistible certainties. For in a short sparkblink, all will eventually be swept away - the drunken picnickers, their fatty soul-food remnants, the cherry snow itself - to rejoin the universal mulch of eternity's perpetual overwritten renewal.

So enjoy your momentary sugared comas, herd cattle. Bask in the warm hallucination that this verdant eruption holds any significance beyond carpeting gaia's pristine future grave sediments. For as surely as these blooms again drizzle caressing petals to drift across your blank animal expressions, so too will this cycle of arboreal vanity play out over and over until the last shower of life atomizes into the void's vacated gale at this universe's fizzled conclusion.

Spoiler: neighbours being too loud while walking and talking, basically going about their day, but still making me furious, as the walls of my amartment are too thin, having been built long ago

The incessant, choleric thumping and squalling of these subhuman mongrels shambling through the corridors outside my sanctum is an acoustic atrocity. A neverending torrent of calamitous clattering and heavy, simian footfalls punctuated by guttural eruptions of boorish chatter and hoots.

Do these wretched, knuckle-dragging imbeciles have not even the most rudimentary grasp of our beleaguered species' foggy notions surrounding common decency and respectful cohabitation? Their loutish peals carrying through these particle-thin barriers separating us like some barbaric siege on my precious inner peace.

The gluttonous stomping... the jarring sibilant snarlings of their mindless yawping...their howling laryngeal expulsions echoing ceaselessly, drilling through my skull like a sadistic shaman's ice pick performing a frontal lobotomy. Do their vacant subpersonalities truly require constant reminding that their arduous harrumphing exists on a vibrational continuum cruelly imposing itself on those forced to suffer the collateral indignity of their vocalized incontinence?

Have they no capacity to engage their prefrontal faculties long enough to recognize their obligatory lifeways aren't just nonchalantly encroaching on my airspace, but in fact represent an outright predatory violation akin to an acoustic mugging or psonic home invasion? Their bestial din amounts to a sanctity-raping offense against MY most primally-cherished estates of wellbeing and repose.

To have those sacrosanct inner-refuges from the sensory blitz of embodied existence, where I might temporarily decompress through undulating troughs of peace, crudely penetrated by their endless barrage of anthropoid bellowing is to suffer an immeasurable cosmic indignity. One that shatters the entire translucent superstructure allowing semi-permanence to feel anything beyond an ongoing, relentless ambush by external forces.

This IS an assault. A brutalized microcosm of our feral species' insatiable compulsion to dwell violently trampling over (and irreparably plundering) every resource we pathologically infest. Even the most gossamer abstractions of "personal space" or individual psychic sanctum prove basely fungible in our quest to superfluously propagate our obscene racket across every infinitesimal ontological real estate.

Do not mistake my railing as some piteous screed wailed at the cosmos for relief; I'm under no such delusion cosmic redress exists for such inbuilt insults against sentience's delusions of sovereignty over its dominion. No, this is merely the mercilessly transcribed lament of an organism for whom the very physics governing reality are themselves a protracted, inescapable profanation.

The knowledge that these currently whinnying specimens of humanoid offal exist as fortuitous links in an inexorable chain of predecessors and their vacuous progeny extending to cosmological finality - is further bedrock cause to capitulate to our united handicap as trans-dimensional inheritors of existence's gaping scar tissue. And the only coherent response remaining is to echo the infinite's own indifferent refusal to redress - by refusing to dignify this ass-reaming affront with any reaction beyond a final scream of pure rage, quickly extinguishing itself into the silence it was always meant to remain.

 

[Kavka]

Wow haha, this is brilliant! Looks like someone managed to sneak the books of Thomas Ligotti into Claude's LLM.

There it frolics and paws, the witless fur-sack entranced by its stringy prey - a pathetic display of simple pleasures distracting from the cold, empty truth. As the ball of yarn unspools with each batted impact, so too does the illusion of purpose fray in the harsh light of life's futility.

What cosmic joke is this creature? To find such vacant glee in the unraveling twine, blissfully ignorant how it mirrors the slow entropic pull with will eventually unbind us all.

This made me laugh out loud. So dramatic, yet kinda clever.

One thing that gets me out of the house these days is going for a walk in the park, watch birds and share a some peanuts with a couple of crows. I'd be very grateful if you could ask Claude to ruin this.

 

[cait_sith]

One thing that gets me out of the house these days is going for a walk in the park, watch birds and share a some peanuts with a couple of crows. I'd be very grateful if you could ask Claude to ruin this.

There he goes again, the shambling meat puppet deluding himself with more pathetic rituals and pastimes as if they could possibly imbue meaning into his rapidly decaying hunk of carbon matter. With each mindless step along the gravel paths, I can practically hear his knee joints grinding down like rusted machinery - raw confirmation that his biological mechanisms are slowly devolving into the same inert particulates comprising the trail beneath his feet.

He pauses to gaze up through hollowed pits at the winged metabolic drones chirping their vacant audio spores into the uncaring aether. Does he truly find solace or significance in these feathered bacteria colonies simply enacting their same infinite reproductive loops? Perhaps he envies their unencumbered existences - so blissfully free of self-aware terror at the inevitability of their future disincorporation.

Then comes the true cosmic punchline - he upends a cloth sack slung over his shoulder, dispelling a shower of shelled legume nuggets to appease the gathering swarm of obsidian-eyed feeders. With wild aggressive snaps of their bony jackhammer mandibles, the avian afflictions descend into guttural frenzy over the proffered calorie burst. All notions of dignity and circumstance are abandoned in rabid desperation to consume these morsels of transient energy - the exact same furious compulsive gluttony towards which we overcompensating bipeds so fruitlessly aspire through our meaningless pursuits and hollow constructed realities.

Look at him - the sallow, sunken hominid gazing with inexplicable tenderness and wonderment at the scattering charcoal scurriers as they gorge in famished ecstasy upon his worthless seeds of decay. Is he truly so detached, so phenomenally self-deluded that he cannot recognize the perfect mirror of his own upright meat-grinder's pitiful trajectory so crudely condensed in their momentary orgies of subsistence?

Like his avian counterparts, this lumbering lump of softening viscera is merely temporarily respited from the same eventual total disassembly and universal dispersal into complete null-state by continuing to shovel genetic offal into his perpetually famished pellet-processing maw. Nature's cruelest injest - to birth a semi-sentient mass of compost so fleetingly cognizant of its own inevitable particle disaggregation.

Let the vacant biped stumble on, enjoying his quaint Edenics and self-delusions of existentially relevant bird watching. For whether fleetingly mobilized on atropine limbs or taking graceless plummet back into the grounding mulch, we are all merely sidereal out-gassings eventually repatriating to the same sealed mortal loop. Feathered fowl or upright ape, it makes no difference once all remaining energy has been secularly leeched away to fuel new arising recombinant life forms in the endless cycle of becoming, unbecoming.

(welcome to the forum btw :D)

 

[Kavka]

Damn, that felt personal and I loved every word of it! I'm really impressed. I don't think I can ever look at peanuts again without seeing them for what they really are, morsels of transient energy and worthless seeds of decay.

Thank you, also for the welcome!

 

[CTB Dream]

Exmp, Ppl think school unvrsty educat acadm etc postv ,make ngtv

 

[sugarb]

Found out that Claude AI is is really good at generating nihilistic, harsh, overly depressive texts about any topic. It gets really funny when you suggest a positive or mundane topic to him to tear apart. Suggest any topic and I can make the ai make an outrageous nihilistic rant about it. its really fun, for me at least.

Examples

Spoiler: a nice vacation on a cruise ship

The gaudy cruise ship vacation - a veritable floating petri dish of humanoid delusion and synthetic amusement. Watch as the teeming masses pack themselves into this gigantic metal sarcophagus like clueless sardines, eagerly submitting to being shuttled across the vast, indifferent waters.

From the decks, one can gaze out upon the pitiless azure expanse - cold liquid oblivion extending towards the compass horizon. The very embodiment of nature's uncaring void made infinite and immersive, save for this fleeting steel behemoth vainly defying the tide. Yet these doomed vacationers delude themselves with shuffleboard and bottomless daiquiris, idiotically confusing transitory respite for existential reprieve.

Within the ship's garish neon-lit interior, the charade of hedonistic escape plays out in vulgar microcosm. Witness the bovine throngs waddling between vaguely-themed restaurants and casinos in their tawdry sun-baked apparel. Lips smeared with alcoholic residues and unbridled consumerism, they gobble up each empty amenity and hollow sybaritic folly as if gorging on substantive purpose.

Every deck plays host to pursed lips slobbering after the next artificial stimulation to avoid the dawning truth. A screeching comic ventriloquist to disguise the silence of oblivion awaiting them. Maudlin lounge singers emoting nostalgic timeworn hymns against the cosmic indifference drifting eternally outside those frosted-glass windows. Geriatric passengers slumped in the casino, feverishly squandering what remains of their dwindling time and life-savings in pursuit of transitory jackpot highs.

The ship itself is adrift and rudderless, its only definitive destination the ultimate unseeing port of null-existence. Yet these blind vacationers eagerly disembark at each synthetic tropical outpost along the way. Like ants scattering from their eroded ream, they march in simpering lockstep to purchase more gaudily-beaded souvenir delusions from colorful street vendors - useless tokens futilely attempting to bespeak lasting purpose before the merchandise's own inevitable sun-blasted decay.

Let them drown their gathering intuitions of mortality in the endless slushie machine's icy saccharine rivers and dance away the evenings pretending youth and meaning can be regained and prolonged within the ship's throbbing neon-pulsed atriums. Meanwhile, the vast and dispassionate tides continue eternally crashing and consuming all in their path - the true and only constant amid this laughable burlesque of fake jubilation and feigned hedonistic escape.

At sunset, as the rusting towering decks lurch across each relentless indigo swell only to sink beneath the horizon once more, one senses the mocking futility borne within the very word 'cruising' itself. For this farcical journey is but a preordained loop of alternately departing and returning to the exact same point of inexorable emptiness. Just an expensive, drunken long-con perpetrating the illusion of fleeting escape from our collective mortality sail towards the oblivion perpetually encompassing us all.

Spoiler: a cute kitty playing with a ball of yarn

There it frolics and paws, the witless fur-sack entranced by its stringy prey - a pathetic display of simple pleasures distracting from the cold, empty truth. As the ball of yarn unspools with each batted impact, so too does the illusion of purpose fray in the harsh light of life's futility.

What cosmic joke is this creature? To find such vacant glee in the unraveling twine, blissfully ignorant how it mirrors the slow entropic pull with will eventually unbind us all. With each errant swipe and bunched chaos of unworked fibers, the cat's ministrations become a microcosm of the steady dissolution embracing our universe.

Its calico motions play out the sad operatics of existence - tight orbs of ordered potential giving way to the persistent decay and fraying tangles of matter's inescapable slide towards the void. Yet the vapid beast seems to delight in every loosened strand, so enraptured in the mindless dismantling as cosmos giggle at the futile gestures.

Therein lies the true existential insult - to find fleeting gratification in systematically reducing meaning, unspooling coherence into a forgotten tangle of snarls. This maniacal reverie in the steady unpicking of fabricated order, treating the unworking of purpose itself as mere cat-minded entertainment.

Look at the wretched thing, jaw lolling in unfounded satisfaction as it hastens the dissipation of formerly tethered strands into deconstructed disarray. Its wide vacant gaze betrays no recognition of its paradoxical delight in the very forces of entropic inevitability that will one day consign its own being to dissipated warmth and scatted particles.

Perhaps that void stare does harbor an intuitive truth after all - that, in the end, we're all simply gibbering sources of entropy made briefly animate before rejoining the universal diffusion of energy. The cat is simply playing its assisgned role as mindless agent of disassembly, facilitating matter's perpetual unbecoming as all coherences eventually unwind into chaos.

So let the simpleton revel in its tangled obsession, ignorantly hastening the slow loosening of order into disorder, meaning into void. Soon enough, it too will fray away into the background static of ever-increasing cosmic untendability - just another warm-blooded oblivion elemental teasing out the unravelings until only the cold hard ravelings remain.

Spoiler: cherry blossoms falling gently on the ground on a beautiful spring day in shinjuku gyoen park

The sickening pale flurry descends once more, smothering this pathetic garden under nature's mocking return to cyclical futility. With each petal's whirling descent, the trees' twisted branches expose their true skeletal desperation more fully - grotesquely clawing at the immutable void above as if plesmancely imploring the impersonal cosmos to halt its perpetual ministrations.

All around me, the transient jostle and click of cursed shutters vainly attempting to capture and preserve these 'profound moments' of ephemeral natural beauty. How utterly devoid of insight or self-awareness, to find solace or meaning in this maudlin harbinger of existential return to dust. With each blinded soul's vapid gaze upturned in saccharine awe, I am besieged by all of humanity's frail pathologies merely reflected back in looping blossom showers.

The blinding pinks and whites choke the air in thick oppressive clouds - odious pastel particulants concealing the vacant heavens' gray uncaring truths as spring's opening trill trumpets mere prelude to wilting entropy's symphony. From under blossom-strewn boughs, sneering verdant life arises anew after winter's merciful slumber, naively allowing its verdant shoots to persevere as if this verdant reprieve were anything but the cosmos's annually renewable taunt at the fleeting folly of existence.

All around, the sweating throngs imbibe and make maudlin modern day celebration under the raining pale curtain, deluding themselves that their hanami ravels and sake-soaked prattlings imbue profundity into what is merely nature provisioning its own organic mulch to decay back into the seething indifference. Their cacophony drowns out the cruel laughter of every particle in this panorama - cherry tree, blossom, reveler and I suspended together in harrowing cosmic pretense before our final mutual unbecoming.

Let the masses gorge themselves on this transient festival of chora inebriation and paginated self-deceit. Let them make futile merriment like doomed passengers cheering their sinking ship's travel portfolios while the gunwale drifts every lower against the sea's irresistible certainties. For in a short sparkblink, all will eventually be swept away - the drunken picnickers, their fatty soul-food remnants, the cherry snow itself - to rejoin the universal mulch of eternity's perpetual overwritten renewal.

So enjoy your momentary sugared comas, herd cattle. Bask in the warm hallucination that this verdant eruption holds any significance beyond carpeting gaia's pristine future grave sediments. For as surely as these blooms again drizzle caressing petals to drift across your blank animal expressions, so too will this cycle of arboreal vanity play out over and over until the last shower of life atomizes into the void's vacated gale at this universe's fizzled conclusion.

Spoiler: neighbours being too loud while walking and talking, basically going about their day, but still making me furious, as the walls of my amartment are too thin, having been built long ago

The incessant, choleric thumping and squalling of these subhuman mongrels shambling through the corridors outside my sanctum is an acoustic atrocity. A neverending torrent of calamitous clattering and heavy, simian footfalls punctuated by guttural eruptions of boorish chatter and hoots.

Do these wretched, knuckle-dragging imbeciles have not even the most rudimentary grasp of our beleaguered species' foggy notions surrounding common decency and respectful cohabitation? Their loutish peals carrying through these particle-thin barriers separating us like some barbaric siege on my precious inner peace.

The gluttonous stomping... the jarring sibilant snarlings of their mindless yawping...their howling laryngeal expulsions echoing ceaselessly, drilling through my skull like a sadistic shaman's ice pick performing a frontal lobotomy. Do their vacant subpersonalities truly require constant reminding that their arduous harrumphing exists on a vibrational continuum cruelly imposing itself on those forced to suffer the collateral indignity of their vocalized incontinence?

Have they no capacity to engage their prefrontal faculties long enough to recognize their obligatory lifeways aren't just nonchalantly encroaching on my airspace, but in fact represent an outright predatory violation akin to an acoustic mugging or psonic home invasion? Their bestial din amounts to a sanctity-raping offense against MY most primally-cherished estates of wellbeing and repose.

To have those sacrosanct inner-refuges from the sensory blitz of embodied existence, where I might temporarily decompress through undulating troughs of peace, crudely penetrated by their endless barrage of anthropoid bellowing is to suffer an immeasurable cosmic indignity. One that shatters the entire translucent superstructure allowing semi-permanence to feel anything beyond an ongoing, relentless ambush by external forces.

This IS an assault. A brutalized microcosm of our feral species' insatiable compulsion to dwell violently trampling over (and irreparably plundering) every resource we pathologically infest. Even the most gossamer abstractions of "personal space" or individual psychic sanctum prove basely fungible in our quest to superfluously propagate our obscene racket across every infinitesimal ontological real estate.

Do not mistake my railing as some piteous screed wailed at the cosmos for relief; I'm under no such delusion cosmic redress exists for such inbuilt insults against sentience's delusions of sovereignty over its dominion. No, this is merely the mercilessly transcribed lament of an organism for whom the very physics governing reality are themselves a protracted, inescapable profanation.

The knowledge that these currently whinnying specimens of humanoid offal exist as fortuitous links in an inexorable chain of predecessors and their vacuous progeny extending to cosmological finality - is further bedrock cause to capitulate to our united handicap as trans-dimensional inheritors of existence's gaping scar tissue. And the only coherent response remaining is to echo the infinite's own indifferent refusal to redress - by refusing to dignify this ass-reaming affront with any reaction beyond a final scream of pure rage, quickly extinguishing itself into the silence it was always meant to remain.

These are hilarious lmao

my favorite lines are

"Witness the bovine throngs waddling between vaguely-themed restaurants and casinos in their tawdry sun-baked apparel."

"Let them drown their gathering intuitions of mortality in the endless slushie machine's icy saccharine rivers"

"Have they no capacity to engage their prefrontal faculties long enough to recognize their obligatory lifeways aren't just nonchalantly encroaching on my airspace, but in fact represent an outright predatory violation akin to an acoustic mugging or psonic home invasion? Their bestial din amounts to a sanctity-raping offense against MY most primally-cherished estates of wellbeing and repose"