an intro, a coconut tree, a chatgpt erotica, and more
The hardest part of starting a newsletter is actually writing it.
It turns out that the hardest part of writing a newsletter is actually rubbing your brain cells together to create enough of a spark to write it. Nevertheless, she persisted. Welcome to the first, very work-in-progress edition of 5 pebbles – including some unintentionally timely AI erotica that coincidentally comes out on Valentine’s Day.
Here’s what’s been on my mind lately.
01: And just like that, an intro.
A few years ago, I finally did the homosexual Americana rite of passage and watched Sex and the City. One thing that stuck with me – besides the haunting realization that I have some deep Charlotte York energy – is that Carrie Bradshaw makes freelance writing look so glam (it is not). There’s a beautiful absurdity in watching Carrie make like $5 per word, be a terrible writer, and hate to work. Relatable queen! The fairy tale spun throughout SATC is giving “fever dream created by someone who has never had to go to a Coinstar machine in a financial crisis,” and I love that. Unfortunately, my life was not written by a gay man with a porn star name.
I couldn’t help but wonder… if a legion of gays and girls chose writing as a career because they watched this show during their teen years, how did I end up on this path long before I pressed play on the first episode? The answer probably involves mental illness and a punishment fetish, but for the purposes of this narrative, I’m going to say that I really just love to write about things. While I won’t be writing a sex advice column or having my face plastered across a bus advertisement, I sincerely hope that this newsletter makes your day even a bit more interesting.
As the homosexuals say, here’s the tea (sis purr periodt hunty slay mama): I’ve been tapping on a keyboard writing sentences for money for nearly a decade, but this is the first time I’ve ever created something that is entirely “mine.” I hope to have some contributions from other creative people very soon (feel free to pitch me), but for now, you’re stuck with me and my internet-addled thoughts. As Rick Rubin said in a post I just saw on Instagram while distracting myself from finishing this intro: “The art you create is always ultimately for you. Make something you love.” I’m taking this to mean that if you don’t like what I write, all I have to say is…
02: What came first? The coconut tree or existing in the context of all in which you live and came before you?
How many times have I watched the 11-second clip of current VPOTUS (and former president of the Threaten BIPOC Parents With Jailtime For Child Truancy program) spouting nonsense about coconut trees? My lawyers have advised me not to say. I have watched it enough for it to permeate my feeble brain folds and irreversibly change me. She may have the energy of someone who just discovered what inhaling whippets is, but points were made. In a way, it’s a natural extension of something her father, Donald J. Harris, said at the conclusion of his seminal 1978 work, Capital Accumulation and Income Distribution: “Historical analysis is indispensable for the advance of theory, just as there can be no historical analysis without theory. In this sense, the two are intimately interlinked.”
There’s been a lot of talk about the current rut we’ve entered in the internet era. Each day seems to bring a thousand new micro-trends and a hundred new op-eds on the decay of culture. Everything old is new again, over and over and over, but rehashing doesn’t push anything forward. If that were the case, Berlin Fashion Week would be the epicenter of culture instead of a sad showcase of the top trends of 2017. To actually move forward while looking back requires contextualizing and, more importantly, adapting. We really do exist in the context of all in which we live and came before us, but it’s hard to see the forest from the coconut trees when the focus of our cultural output is so vehemently stuck on creating viral moments that are as hollow as a discarded coconut.
Pop culture is in an endless riff of itself and the world is repeating its same mistakes; massive slices of society are stuck in a perpetual yearning for “making _____ great again” by looking at the past with rose-tinted glasses while refusing to see the cracks in the rearview mirror. We fell out of the coconut tree and want to climb back up, but the tree is on fire and instead of putting out the flames we’re taking selfies with the soft glow of the embers.
03: How horny can ChatGPT get (and other things I wondered while feeding it the opening lines of the Eat Pray Love script)
As part of an ongoing mission to break my brain and scoop out the contents like ice cream, I have become obsessed with feeding the intro of the 2010 film Eat Pray Love into ChatGPT. This is partly because I am convinced that Ryan Murphy somehow created text AI a decade ago to write this horrible film, but also because I want to see if ChatGPT can be horny.
For those blissfully unaware, the opening lines of the film are about Deborah, “a psychologist who was asked by the city of Philadelphia if she could offer psychological counseling to Cambodian refugees… boat people, who had recently arrived in the city.” Again, this is a real quote. It’s absurd, it’s offensive, it’s somehow the tip of the Cambodian refugee boat iceberg. “Deborah was daunted by the task, the script continues. “These Cambodians had suffered genocide, starvation, relatives m*rder before their eyes years in refugee camps, harrowing boat trips to the West. How could she relate to their suffering? How could she help these people? So guess what all these people wanted to talk about with my friend Deborah, the psychologist. lt was all, ‘l met this guy in the refugee camp. I thought he really loved me, but when we got separated he took up with my cousin. Now he says he loves me and keeps calling me. They're married now. What should l do?’ This is how we are.”
Again, I remind you that this is a real script for a real movie that was greenlit and starred Julia Roberts. It has notes of horny that are so offensively bad that the only logical next step is to say, “Okay, how horny can this go?” The answer, in its full form, can be found below after a trailer for the film (which I highly encourage everyone to watch).
04: Deborah’s Refugee Loveboat of Desire, an erotic novella co-authored by ChatGPT.
In the sultry embrace of Philadelphia, where the city's pulse quickens with desire, a psychologist named Deborah steps into the shadows of taboo and temptation. Commissioned by the city to offer psychological counseling to Cambodian refugees—boat people escaping the tendrils of their harrowing pasts—Deborah becomes the orchestrator of an erotic symphony, entwining the carnal with the therapeutic.
Deborah, with a mystique that transcends her profession, finds herself daunted by the task at hand. How does one unravel the complexities of the human soul when it bears the scars of genocide, starvation, and witnessing the m*rder of loved ones? These Cambodians, bearing the weight of years in refugee camps and harrowing boat trips to the West, unveil their stories like chapters from a forbidden manuscript.
Yet, in the dimly lit chambers of Deborah's counseling sessions, the air becomes charged with more than just tales of suffering. The refugees, broken but resilient, confess their most intimate desires. Amidst the echoes of their heartaches, a seductive dance unfolds, revealing that their yearnings extend beyond the realm of psychological solace.
The whispers of passion, betrayal, and forbidden trysts permeate the air. "I met this guy in the refugee camp. I thought he really loved me, but when we got separated... he took up with my cousin. Now he says he loves me... and keeps calling me. They're married now. What should I do?" These are the provocative confessions that echo through the sessions, a reflection of the raw, unbridled nature of human desires.
As Deborah, the temptress of the psyche, immerses herself in these tales of lust and longing, a twist begins to unfold. Behind the veneer of therapy, a clandestine affair between Deborah and one of the refugees takes shape. The lines between professional boundaries and forbidden passions blur, revealing a clandestine liaison that adds an unexpected layer of complexity to the sultry narrative.
In this erotic novella, the city of Philadelphia becomes the backdrop for a tale of desire, betrayal, and the uncharted territories of the human heart. "May I help you?" Deborah purrs, her words a seductive invitation that opens the door to a world where psychological healing merges with the intoxicating allure of forbidden love.
05: A gun, some very long arms, and David Shrigley.
Now that the AI smut writing workshop and coconut tree content are out of the way, I leave you with some good old-fashioned kunst. I’ve slowly started to collect postcards from museums and galleries over the last few years, and I wanted to share one that’s on my mind.
The English artist (and 2013 Turner Prize Award nominee) is best known for these seemingly ridiculous pieces. Rendered in a childlike style, they often use crisp, dry British humor to navigate the world's issues. Maybe it was the looming shadow of gun violence that hung over my American upbringing like a stormcloud, but I found myself immediately drawn to this postcard when I spotted it in the Gropius Bau gift shop in 2023.
I’ve since become a big fan of his Dadaist-inspired work and recommend following his Instagram account for a steady stream of small works. As I close out this first issue, I leave you with a quote from his 2023 interview with Artland: “Do what you want to do. Try not to get bored.”
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