ZDL

The noted anti-trans Apartheid Manchild wants to have babies?

From the time a full subway car leaves a Beijing metro station to the time the next one takes its place is 51 seconds.

Here in Wuhan it ranges from 2 minutes to 5 minutes depending on the line and time of day. In Beijing it's 51 seconds.

Wow.

NGL, i'm kinda jealous.

Recalling that LLMs have no notion of reality and thus no way to map what they're saying to things that are real, you can actually put an LLM to use in destroying itself.

The line of attack that this one helped me do is a "Tlön/Uqbar" style of attack: make up information that is clearly labelled as bullshit (something the bot won't understand) with the LLM's help, spread it around to others who use the same LLM to rewrite, summarize, etc. the information (keeping the warning that everything past this point is bullshit), and wait for the LLM's training data to get updated with the new information. All the while ask questions about the bullshit data to raise the bullshit's priority in their front-end so there's a greater chance of that bullshit being hallucinated in the answers.

If enough people worked on the same set, we could poison a given LLM's training data (and likely many more since they all suck at the same social teat for their data).

This band is the second Chinese folk metal band I encountered. I was expecting something more like things along the line of 小雨 (Mysterain) when I started listening—which is to say symphonic folk metal—and instead I got … this.

In short I got my mind blown.

This band started my dive into Chinese metal culture, and what I like best about this song, the one that started that dive (or perhaps that pushed me into the deep end of the pool) is that it showed the astonishing diversity of the scene. This is straight-up blackened death metal mixed in cunning ways with traditional Chinese melodies and instrumentation that gives it a unique voice of its own that very few others can match. (葬尸湖/Zuriaake is probably the only other band that can compare in this regard, though less on the instrumentation and more on the melody lines and lyrical content.)

And, not gonna lie, I love watching the faces of westerners when the dan voice kicks in. The "WTAF!?" look just makes me laugh and laugh.

Tang Xianzu is called "The Shakespeare of China". I think this is grossly inaccurate. I think he's a far more talented artist than Shakespeare, mastering not only prose, poetry and dialogue like Shakespeare, but also musical and libretto composition. The masterwork he's most known for, and the one generally considered his best, is 牡丹亭/The Peony Pavilion, a stirring multi-day tour de force of the performing arts. (Because I'm a rebel and a loner I actually personally prefer his 南柯记/Record of the Southern Bough, but The Peony Pavilion is really good too.)

This particular piece is a 皂罗袍 (no translation, really, but transliterated Zao Luo Pao) structured element and is a pivotal moment in the 昆曲/Kunqu opera. It is strongly emotionally charged as the lead character 杜丽娘/Du Liniang has her emotions stirred by the garden's scenery which transforms to romantic thoughts. It is the lead-in to the (very steamy!) dream encounter with 柳梦梅/Liu Mengmei and this results in the rest of the events of the play.

There are several reasons why I adore this particular piece:

1. I'm a fan of Kunqu in general. It is the Chinese operatic form that retains the most relevance to China, despite being its oldest surviving form. This is because most other opera forms have become sterile, courtly affairs that simply recycle music and technique while Kunqu, as an entertainment form of the people, is constantly being rejuvenated as it incorporates the ever-changing culture of the folk around it. (Modern kunqu pieces have, in addition to the traditional vocalization and instrumentation, also incorporated synthesizers, modern drum kits, and even autotune distortions.)

2. Though this is not my favourite Kunqu (that one is 憐香伴/The Fragrant Companion, an openly sapphic work from 1651), or even my favourite one from Tang Xianzu (that is, as I said, Record of the Southern Bough), it is still a piece I thoroughly enjoy both reading and listening to various aria collections from.

3. This piece is a perfect embodiment of the emotional essence of the entire play.

In addition, I greatly enjoy this particular adaptation of it by the Zide Qinshe group.

1. By stripping instrumentation down to only a 古琴/guqin accompaniment to the vocals, it lets the voice shine out as the accompaniment subtly supports it and carries the tune forward.

2. The guqin player, 白无瑕/Bai Wuxia, is one of my favourite guqin performers capable of some astonishing subtleties on that already-subtle instrument.

3. The singer, 钱瑜婷/Qian Yuting (a.k.a. Sunshine), has a gorgeous voice under incredibly tight control.

十面埋伏 (trans: Ambush from All Sides) is a 琵琶 (pípá or "Chinese lute") long form solo composition dating in its first form from the 16th century, but whose current popular form stems from a 19th century publication of collected pipa works. It's written in the 武 (wǔ or martial) style¹ and is a sweeping sonic depiction of the Battle of Gaixia, the final major battle of the Chu-Han Contention, in 202BCE.

This is one of the most demanding and complicated pieces in pipa canon that strains the player's ability in every possible performance technique; if you're listening to someone playing it you're almost certainly listening to a virtuoso performer. Personally I love it because:

1. Its composition is top notch and evokes the battle it portrays with vivid musicality.
2. I admire listening to virtuoso players of any instrument.
3. I like the sound of the pipa in general.

The performance linked to is considered one of the ultimate performances; Liu Fang is, as is required to play this piece at all, a virtuoso but she adds a dimension of passion to the piece rarely heard in the staid world of Chinese classical music.

¹ As opposed to the 文 (wén or civil) style, which tends to be more bucolic in theme and style.

Hey, Luigi! I have your next target.

They are, after all, what they are.