It's a Bland New World!The very near future. Discipline lost the fight with laziness by forfeit. Benevolent AIs tend to Humanity in a «comfortable, democratic, polished unfreedom». Poverty is a mathematical impossibility. Work, a pasttime for the whimsical.Dodo – a pompous, elitist misanthrope – drags himself through apathetic days suspended between scabrous hedonism, rumination, and bleak remorse: a past act of cowardice cost him his art and Vittoria, the only woman he ever loved. He feeds his need for interpersonal contact by subjecting strangers on the bus to unhinged monologues that are the only form of conversation somebody like him can produce.When Vittoria reappears, it's as a member of VIGIL, a terrorist group whose motto is "Nihil Supra Nos" (Nothing Above Us).Vittoria tries to draw Dodo into a plan to assassinate Santiago, an old friend from their university days. Santiago – brilliant, neurodivergent, and, in his own way, as desperate as Dodo – has created a Superintelligence capable of eliminating pain from the world. But the price is the irreversible denaturing of Homo sapiens.Not that Dodo likes current Homo sapiens that much.>whole book:https://drive.google.com/file/d/1n7yZYutBzl1s0kIpc8ILwJe11BDoZ3jW/view
>>25609678CITATIONS:«The transhumanist option is the only moral one. Now that we can heal ourselves, to not do so would be evil.»«You can't read too much. You can't live too little.»Originality is a mirage chased only by fools.Temet nosce might be the most poisonous fruit ever produced by the tree of philosophy: familiarity breeds contempt even when directed at ourselves.Total sincerity is born only of ataraxia and hatred. It is a fruit that is always, inevitably poisoned, and it can only kill coexistence with our fellow beings. The utterly sincere man is a monster. He is the end of the world.Dodo had always considered it a wise practice to experience firsthand, at very close range, anything that from afar appeared illustrious and desirable – some dish typically reserved for the wealthy, a prestigious destination, a famous painting seen in person, a renowned individual met face to face – so as to realize that the very best the world has to offer isn’t all that much. It was excellent prophylaxis against those crippling mental pathologies known as regret and the tendency to fashion idols before whom to collapse to one’s knees. When you get close enough to mirages, they usually dissolve; the cracks in the varnish become visible, and the disappointment is more than offset by the peace that follows, by the extinguishing of the need that had been gnawing at you. But sometimes, in mercifully rare cases, the mechanism jams and produces the opposite result. When one encountered such exceptions, the hygienic thing to do was to turn away and run.Vittoria sensed him approaching.The caption branded him an “opinionist,” one of those perplexing figures who enter respectable people’s screens adorned with the not particularly exclusive title of person-who-has-opinions, verbalizing only what people already think, carefully avoiding any truly new concept that might finally trigger invigorating labor pains in viewers’ brains – and even getting paid for this betrayal of the intellectual role. That the immune system of their culture did not instantly react by vomiting such figures was an eloquent indicator of its state of health.Even in those days, Dodo already possessed the tendency to observe his own reactions from the outside – or rather, was already possessed by it. Even those that seemed most spontaneous were analyzed from the perspective of a future self. Before speaking or moving a finger, he would ask himself: When I'll think back on this, will I feel shame or annoyance at having done it? And if so, which alternative will yield a satisfied – or at least ataraxic – reaction, which is often the best one can hope for? Even then it was an automatic, instantaneous process, one he scarcely noticed anymore. He posed the question, supplied the answer, behaved accordingly. It seemed to work. Life had lost some of its bitterness, and if the other flavors had been similarly diluted, it had seemed an acceptable trade.
I'm not going to read your self-published 4chnigger pseud dogshit. You are not a writer and you never will be.
He had known with perfect clarity that he was living through a luminous period, that those moments would glitter in his memory like nuggets of gold in a muddy riverbed. He had known that one day they would end, and that he would regret his inability to immerse himself fully in them. He had known it, but could do nothing about it. Some people long for the ability to recognize the good times while they are happening, imagining that it would allow them to truly enjoy them. They fail to understand that it would smother them, drown them, dissolve their colors in that implacable solvent that is intellectual analysis. One either lives or thinks. There were those who abstained without protection, and those who after a week took their gonorrhea pills – and between the two, the latter were the true sages. But he had understood it too late.Much of our memory resides outside us, and most of our personality seems to be stored in other people, slightly different depending on the container. Had he run into a middle-school friend, they would probably have gone straight back to snickering over jokes about breasts and flatulence.“Constantly interfaced with the Superintelligence and with every other consciousness,” Santiago said. “Their thoughts and emotions perceived as if they were our own. Loneliness and deceit reduced to technical impossibilities. True communication, for the first time.”They would finally realize they were the same person copy-pasted nine billion times, Dodo had sneered. There would be just as many suicides.“It’s a spiral,” Vittoria would say. “History. It never repeats itself exactly, but it revisits the same regions with regularity.”“More like a mattress spring, then,” he suggested. “A cylinder extending to infinity.”No, she insisted. A spiral. And at its center lay the point where old principles would lose all future validity. The moment when history would cease to rhyme with itself. The Singularity.
>>25609692He pulled a small book from the row of spines with his index finger, more because it was within reach than out of real interest. "Canti" by Leopardi. The only poet who had ever struck a chord in his soul, otherwise prosaic in every sense. He flipped through the worn, underlined volume. The wretched ill-spined creature lamented faded youth and disappointed hopes. He had known. Man grows sick with expectation, one of those conditions (like the absence of fear) pathological in an adult but necessary in the young specimen to develop properly. Without expectation veiling our gaze, blurring the roughness of the road ahead, the stark harshness of the inescapable journey would exhaust us before we even took a step. Kindergarten children would hang themselves from window handles with their cartoon-character belts. That trusting imagining, that unfounded certainty of joys and achievements awaiting us just ahead, is the only crutch that allows us to move forward along such a miserable path.But sooner or later we reach and pass that turning point, that milestone where we had expected a certain resting place, a certain view to admire – and we do not find it. We go on, but the experience repeats again and again. At last the ultimate deception reveals itself in all its annihilating force. It is that lethal psychological, existential fracture, usually dulled by common mentality (which always must flatten, prune, reduce everything to dimensions graspable even by the most myopic ant) under the label of a midlife crisis – as if it were a temporary discomfort, inherent only to that stage of life and then overcome, rather than a congenital and incurable affliction that the average individual tends to notice only then out of cognitive sloth.That is the moment when we finally admit to ourselves that we will not find, will not achieve, will not encounter the things and people we had always known, deep down, were waiting for us just a little further down the road, behind one or two bends. Perì l’inganno estremo / ch’eterno io mi credei. Perished the utmost deception, which I believed eternal in myself. The crisis erupts (and how could it not?) from the terrifying realization that those expectations we had nurtured as certainties were in fact entirely illusory. They have not happened and will not happen. In less elevated terms than those of the hunchback from Recanati: “Then you get to an age where what you might be gives way to what you have been. You weren’t Einstein. You weren’t anything. That’s a bad moment.”Practice, as in any discipline, still comes to the rescue. Being aware of it from youth does not remove the blade from the entrails (no human tool or artifice can), but it dulls the pain, making it habitual, banal. The numbing power of boredom, one of the few truly invincible forces of existence, can be put to good use.
>>25609678>>25609684>>25609692Didn't read.
>>25609689You're reading me right now. I'm inside your head. It's narrow but warm.
>>25609684>familiarity breeds contempt even when directed at ourselves.>>25609692>There were those who abstained without protection, and those who after a week took their gonorrhea pills – and between the two, the latter were the true sages.>The moment when history would cease to rhyme with itselfI don't care for sci-fi slop but the non sci-fi parts are surprisingly not shit.
>>25609697>Kindergarten children would hang themselves from window handles with their cartoon-character beltstell me more i'm lubed up
I don't get why people keep posting books here. /lit/ doesn't read.>>25609703See?
>the deranged italian is backWe're not buying anything.
>“Christians,” he now said to a man with a turban sitting next to him on the tram, “with their obsession for a God of pure love, infinite forgiveness and various inanities, don’t realize they’re losing the war for souls precisely because of what they consider their greatest virtue. No one respects someone who forgives everything. No one is willing to fight and die for a doormat god. If you want to arouse love and devotion, you have to be cruel and unjust. Christian theologians should have spent less time looking at their crucifixes and more observing human females. Then they would have understood.”Foids and christcucks btfo simultaneously and in perpetuity.Some of you spaghettis are alright. Don't go to Italy tomorrow.
The masterpiece is back.You half-literate fags don't deserve it but you're gonna get it.
>>25609692You don't use quotation marks half the fucking time. Fix yo shit.
>>25610647??Quotation marks are only for direct speech. Some of those excerpts are not direct speech.
>>25610662>No, she insisted. [...]Fuck you.
>>25610664That part is indirect speech: No, she insisted, it was a spiral, etc.Go back to 3rd grade.
>>25610664>>25610647This used to be a joke, but in 2026 it's become true: /lit/ cannot read./lit/ really cannot read.
This is actually pretty good. Are we allowed to say it or is it uncool?
The other cover was better.
post the horny one about the waitress
>>25609678>a pompous, elitist misanthropeAre channers capable of writing any other type of character? Is this Harassment Architecture all over again?
>>25611229Write what you know, dude.>Harassment ArchitectureOnly good thing there was the title. This one actually reads well.
>>25611219it was posted: >>25610626
Il/lit/erates are not worthy, master. They read Brandon Sanderson, for the love of cock.
>>25609697>That is the moment when we finally admit to ourselves that we will not find, will not achieve, will not encounter the things and people we had always known, deep down, were waiting for us just a little further down the roadHey man, fuck you. What did I even do to you?
>>25609678Cio che pensa l'ultimo dodò
I'm past my misanthropic doomer stage so I shan't be partaking but I will allow that the excerpts in the thread exhibit talent. I'd be happy to read something by the author that was more to my tastes.
That's just Forest Gump.
>>25611918Almost.>>25611937What are your tastes? I've got some non-doomer sci-fi.
>>25612246I'd give that a shot.
>>25610626>ai slop cover>didn't even bother to edit out the em dashes from the aii'm not gonna read it and ur not gonna make it
>>25609678What an enjoyable read
>>25612285>nooo a joke cover explicitly ai signals dishonesty>nooo you can't use dashesimbecile
>dystopian future story>doesnt mention demographic shift
>>25612281Alright, here's a couple:>Are You Ready To Go?Non doomer sci-fi, first contact (gone wrong) (gone right).https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ouApGqq94PJdv8k1YrS0ALt8q5rQwj9s/view>The Right RoomHumorous, a bit fantasy and a bit sci-fi.https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uKw8otT2VGjbJg-wmxnsrG9DT_5nHR7S/view>>25612285Feel free to feed my stuff to whatever AI detector you can find. They're not 100% reliable but still our best tool by far.>>25612712I mean, it's like 12 years into the future.
>>25612434Happy to hear it. Which parts exactly?
>>25609678i really like this.i'm not going to read it, but its an absolute pleasure absorbing this sort of prose. you just need a monkey on a motorcycle or something to keep people interested.
>>25612962shutup, i have adhd, society told me so
>>25612962>i really like this>but i'm not gonna read it>even though it would be an absolute pleasureWhat a perplexing comment. Our dopamine receptors are well and truly fried.>>25612964Our forefathers used to have only one book in their wooden shack and read only that for their entire lives. And they had great fun.
Requesting the part about women's brains being unable to handle intelligence without degenerating into neurosis.
>>25613019>And they had great fun.having a go at the butter turner for the 10000th time doesn't really strike me as that amusing.Farming was so boring at some point some guy thought "What if I suck on those cow nips"
>>25613019I took a vow never to support another authors financial success until I myself was financially successful. I'll probably never read again, but I saved myself a lot of hassle.
im reading it OP. i really am interested, it seems neat. thank you for sharing. if i read through the whole book i might give a review later
>>25613262
>>25613302Based.>>25613309Do post a review if/when you're done, thanks.
>>25613328This style of writing is so inelegant because you can see right through the author's bias. The author wants you to know he's misogynistic but rather than make you work to find out, they deceive you with some nonsensical personal introduction of the protagonist's bad experience then proceed to pepper the rest of the text with a badly reasoned mini-essay about how bad women are. Such trite, ill-conceived prose that only amateur readers would appreciate. The author is obvoously autistic and has zero experience in relationships.
>>25613336>the seething foid is backAbsolute kek, like clockwork. That passage always summons the kind of woman who least of all should feel offended at smart women being slandered.>nonsensical>badly reasoned>trite>ill-conceivedLook how hard she's trying. She's opened a thesaurus.Where's the excerpt about women going bad mentally and even hygienically if they stay single until they're 40?
>>25613336It's not even that you shouldn't conflate a character's opinions with the author's, it's more subtle. The character is convinced he's mysogynistic, but he's not. Him realizing that is a big part of his arc.
>>25613371You are reading too much into it. Compare behead satans or american psycho with this kind of writing. One screams at you while the other makes you work to know. What's the point of reading a book that is so on the nose on a single paragraph? There's not even a hint of dialogue, just an opinion about the character's youth then an essay on the same paragraph. The writer can't even tell where one begins and the other ends, totally amateurish. They probably don't even read fiction.
>>25613375>nooo an entire paragraph without dialogue!There aren't any pictures either.>an opinion about the character's youthIt's the character's opinion about his own youth, not the author's. There's a difference, but you won't see it.The harder you try, the more retarded you reveal yourself to be.
>>25613371It's useless explaining, her kind can't get it. The inability to appreciate characters unless they find them personally likable is one of the most glaring flaws of women as readers. I see this constantly. Every time somebody says they disliked a book and disparage the concepts and even the style only because the protagonist wasn't likable, I know they're a woman. They tend to take everything personally and are unable to separate between the character and the author. They go into a book with so many chips on their shoulders that their spine is bent and they can't see what's in front of them. They are the sort of people that decades ago clamored to send Nabokov and even Dosto to prison ("he wrote about murdering old women? Clearly he's an old woman murderer!"), but are wholly unaware of it. They actually think they can read a novel.The weak, petty ad hominem attempts and even the denying of pussy by proxy ("t-the author has n-no experience in relationships!") confirm the diagnosis. Late stage foid. No cure.
>>25613385Kek. In real life, Belle would've been the one unable to parse a whole paragraph without pictures and Gaston would've been le handsome /lit/erate reading Heidegger (the name would have made him chuckle).
>>25613393For real, they do this with Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Tolstoy, anybody. >"He wrote something that sounds misogynistic to my 21st Century sensibility?!?! He's an incel and anything he ever said is worthless!!!"How are they so egocentric?
>>25613385>>25613393>>25613413>>25613371>>25613359Nice samefags. And no I am not convinced. If you really wanted to disambiguate then this shouldn't have been your best example of the author writing a character who is having an opinion of their youth.
>>25613434>she's still trying to have an opinion
>>25613434>I am not convincedIt's not a matter of opinions, the narrative makes it pretty clear. You're free to not read it of course, but then you're talking about what you don't know.
>>25609678>interesting premise>basic dystopian slop plot
>>25613019if you give brazillian indigenous an iphone they'll immediately become addicted to pornmy point being our forefathers literally had no other outlets for fun so no shit they'd be happy with the singular book, there was nothing else to make that book seem unfun by comparison
>>25613434>If you really wanted to disambiguate then this shouldn't have been your best example of the author writing a character who is having an opinion of their youth.Borderline unintelligible. Confused thought produces confused writing.>>25613434>"Nooo it's not conceivable that more than one person would find me retarded! You must all be samefagging!"
>>25613675"Originality is a mirage chased only by fools"... copes the text.Creativity and its actual scope is one of the major themes of the book. Can we even create something new, or just mix and rehash the past? Can we start from tropes and develop them into something fresh? Is human creativity qualitatively different from what AI does, or are they fundamentally the same process?Another major theme is: is the society portrayed (no poverty, no need to work, AI-powered medicine) a dystopia or an utopia?
if the book was a picture.
>>25613675>reading for the plot and not for the political/artistic/antifoid rantsngmi
>>25609692>most of our personality seems to be stored in other people*hits blunt*Damn...
>>25609697>It is that lethal psychological, existential fracture, usually dulled by common mentality (which always must flatten, prune, reduce everything to dimensions graspable even by the most myopic ant) under the label of a midlife crisis – as if it were a temporary discomfort, inherent only to that stage of life and then overcome, rather than a congenital and incurable affliction that the average individual tends to notice only then out of cognitive sloth.You notice how "midlife crisis" are only ever used to mock and disparage men? A man does something for himself, buys a cool car, gets a younger woman? He's just a shmuck going through a midlife crisis. A pathetic loser, say the women pretending to glee but actually seething.I've never seen a woman's divorce or excessive expenses being labeled as midlife crisis. It's something only used to insult and shame men.
mama mia spaghetti gabagool wrote a novelino!
>more anti-AI propagandaI FOR ONE
Does it name the jew?
>>25616982Not explicitly.
>>25617151more pilpul then.
>>25609678sorry I don't read booktok books with clickbait tiltes. Try the brainlets at barnes and nobel
>>25617380>booktok>clickbaitmeds
>>25617151Why not?
>>25618075/pol/ pls go and stay go.
>>25609678Sounds like absolute dogshit desu senpai
Sounds like absolute gold desu senpai
Nobody on this board can read, can you? The /lit/erate has no clothes.
>>25619044No brain either.
>>25618213midwit detected
>>25617789still not reading your shit book
>>25619409>>25619919>>25619924>SEETHING
>>25619919>/pol/tards calling other people midwitsWhy do you even browse a literature board? You can't read.
>>25619919>i am teh smart for posting 2015 happy merchant images
>>25622100Nobody is posting anything.
