bleak

Bleak Week/0 - Monday.md

@@ -0,0 +1,110 @@
+## $I$
+Overnight, a frigid wind had moved in silently from the ocean to the south.
+It descended from a height above, was channelled toward the east, and passed over a series of jagged glassy peaks that lay perfectly aligned along an axis to the north.
+The oppressive dry of the antarctic wind had suffocated the morning dew into a thin layer of crystal ice that capped each of the peaks but for one.
+The sharpest of them was slick with deep red blood, clinging on to liquidity as the wind, bolstered by a cold blue August sky overhead, eroded away its residual warmth. 
+Walking westward, soft silent footsteps gave way to the rising sound of glass cracking resonantly underfoot. 
+
+Visible through the shattered pane: the deep green grass of the courtyard, interspersed by thick  weeds resembling spinach and furry tufts of moss that had been torn up by blackbirds in search of worms in the early morning light. 
+Beyond: an ailing lemon tree, parasitised by wasps and leaking fragrant sap from its limbs, yet heavy with fruit in protest of its condition.
+The scene of green foliage and citric yellow backed by the wintry blue sky cut against the red puncture wound and shimmering whites of the broken glass,  it was accidental in its composition, and absolute in its devastation.
+
+An alarm was ringing. The source of the noise reported the time as 8:49am. For four minutes he must have stood transfixed by the damage, oblivious to the harsh square wave shaped beeps and vibrations of the device. 
+More noises filtered into consciousness as a return to awareness began. 
+A generator was humming dimly. Then, a popping sound. Another, louder and somewhat closer, then the first again. Soon the sounds were rapidly alternating, although devoid of rhythm and with no fixed cadence. 
+
+Nail guns. Construction had resumed on the lot next door. An unfamiliar shadow was being cast on the faded courtyard bench seat by the back door. Stepping through the door to investigate, the usual sensation of the morning sun flashing from right to left across his face, weak as it was this time of year, was absent. Scaffolding now towered overhead, obscuring the light, clanking when it was mounted and creaking while it was being traversed.
+
+The frame of the building had risen to a second storey and four wide voids in the timber work made clear where windows were to be set for the rooms of the upper floor.
+One of the tradesmen paused as they reached the top of the scaffolding and turned to look down at him standing on the courtyard pavement. 
+The sun had risen slightly and was now partially eclipsed by the tradesman, who was visible only as a dark expressionless silhouette. He waved. The shape made no motion in return. Abruptly it resumed climbing the structure, seemingly without having turned away.
+
+A third nail gun began firing.
+
+---
+## $II$
+
+Returning inside there was no relief from the chill. The wind no longer needed the cover of darkness and had begun to gather in strength. It was pushing its way inside past the now exposed faded and yellowing vertical blinds of the kitchen window. They were bunched to one end, of poor quality, and designed so that a pitifully small piece of deteriorating plastic was all that attached them to the rail above.  The lines that formerly held the bottoms of the blinds in array had lost their anchors and become a tangled mess, constantly wet with an increasing number of barnacles the farther they draped down into the kitchen sink.
+The same brand of blinds covered every piece of glass in the house. In the bedroom, three of them had been tied back onto the railing with kitchen twine. Morning streamed in as a potted vine plant forced its tendrils through the gaps between the untethered blinds.
+
+A different series of beeps signalled five minutes until nine, and the day's first meeting: the morning report. Yesterday he had slept until midday, and consequently gone to bed without eating anything that could be considered a dinner. He had planned to eat a significant breakfast upon returning home but there was now no time.
+
+The scene in the kitchen would have to wait. He grabbed a piece of under ripe fruit from the bowl atop the counter and went to his desk to attend the report. 
+His workstation had cost his organisation an absurd amount of money and was state of the art, however, inexplicably, it would cycle its power precisely three times before accepting input or showing any indication that it was working at all.
+After the first cycle he began pressing buttons at random on the keyboard:  
+
+`esc` `esc` `esc` `l` `a` `l` `a` `l` `a` `lemom`
+
+until the login terminal greeted him with the time at the top right of the display: `8:58am`
+
+It took two attempts - better than the average of 2.45 - to correctly enter the randomly generated password that had been assigned to his workstation: 
+
+```
+Y,Sy-W$Cx;s%p]~9FL!r`:(
+```
+
+A failed attempt meant a five second wait until trying again.
+
+> [!WARNING]
+> Mandatory Software Update Required
+> ...
+> Restarting now.
+
+After another three cycles he logged in once again, this time on the third try, and prepared to join the report.
+
+>[!INFO]
+>The Morning Report has already commenced. 
+>A notification of your request to enter has been sent to the already present attendees.
+
+He sighed and waited for somebody to accept the request.
+
+The camera light blinked on one second before a cacophony of voices erupted from his headset. He tore it off, his ears ringing as he scrambled to find the volume controls. The volume had been raised listening to music in the early hours of the morning whilst preparing the requisite details that were required to be delivered first thing.
+
+> Ah, the afternoon shift has arrived.
+
+a tinny voice quipped from the dangling headset as it swung rapidly back and forth. In its fall it had somehow become taughtly tangled between various pieces of desk and chair, without out a doubt damaged in such a way as to appear completely functional for weeks, if not months, then cutting out momentarily for the first time, almost imperceptibly, only on one side after a slight turning of the head, carrying on innocently for another week without interruption and then rapidly worsening, some key section of cable hastilty fastened with tape at an oblique angle in an attempt to last out the time until its replacement arrives, before finally failing catastrophically at some critical moment.
+
+> nice of you to join, had yourself a little sleep in?
+
+chided a second. the sound of a child throwing a tantrum in the same room as a button sized microphone beckoned as he continued lowering the volume, the headset onto his head, and the microphone to his lips.
+
+> I've been at the facility...
+
+All manner of domestic noise carried on in the background until the attendees gradually became aware of each other's presence. Had he been logged into his workstation when the clock struck 9am he would have seamlessly, and quite without any notification or input, been coralled into the report just the same.
+
+The attendees numbered between 6 and 10 on any given day. Those present were constantly being rotated in and out. Cameras of questionable quality or cleanliness, as well as outright missing faces, made it difficult to form any kind of attachment with the names. He often resorted to associating a general feeling and sense of the person with the colour of the small panel bearing their name on the list of people connected. Yet no sooner would he come to recognise a sugary female voice eminating in time with the glowing of a dark green panel then it would be absent the next day and replaced by three elderly and bespectacled strangers.
+
+In actual fact though, almost everybody on the call seemed to know one another if not personally then at least as a professional acquaintance of some time; the report usually consisted of gossip and rumours being exchanged until **the manager** would come online and interrupt the conversation to make some announcement.
+
+> good morning all, i'm pleased to announce the business has presented us with a tremendous new opportunity to start off our week:
+> in addition to some generalised high level downward economic pressures across the sector, a recent media cycle promoting negative sentiment for units of varying sizes has lead to an updated downgraded prediction of quarterly sales targets as well as an accelerated slowdown of advertising resource earning potential being the results of an increased reduction in tolerance for inconsistency of size between individual units within a packet.
+> what are some viable strategic tactics the routine could initiate to maintain present production rates whilst uplifting a drop in variance of unit shape and volume?
+
+**the routine** was the name given to the sophisticated monitoring software maintaining stasis within the faciltiy.
+written entirely by hand, it had brought to completion 182 yields in the 14 years since it entered production, one every 28 days; and in fact the previous night had been pitch black, with the moon's unilluminated side facing the earth making it completely invisble. it was a new moon and it marked the halfway point of the current harvest.
+
+what was being asked was of course impossible.
+the routine did not accept parameters, there was nothing to be done.
+while the yield would be produced to a specific weight predicted several cycles earlier, the number of units would be completely random as would their size.
+
+under no circumstances however, would it be acceptable to relate this information during the report.
+many "opportunities" such as these presented themselves, usually coinciding with a calamity of a more direct kind at the facility itself and today was no exception.
+
+> ohh i hate it when they're too big
+> or too long!
+> no, not long, too big! too wide!
+> but also too small is very annoying
+
+the elderly attendees, seemingly already the victims of an effort to psychologically manipulate the population into demanding changes in their assigned units, thereby depriving its manufacturer of any opportunity to improve their quality or quantity, blathered on unaware that they were contributing to the struggles of their own employer.
+
+packets had always, as a matter of efficiency, contained a mixture of different sized units but in following the precedent of its greater whole, maintained a specific weight.
+
+what was actually being asked for was a palatable alternative, something that could nominally address the issue though it may have no actual consequence, like sorting the harvest after collection to ensure that packets would contain units of roughly the same size.
+
+make no difference
+get a random packet
+will be big or small
+
+
+-- it will be 4 units --
+        of exactly the same size

Bleak Week/Monday.md

@@ -1,73 +0,0 @@
-## $I$
-Overnight, a frigid wind had moved in silently from the ocean to the south.
-It descended from a height above, was channelled toward the east, and passed over a series of jagged glassy peaks that lay perfectly aligned along an axis to the north.
-The oppressive dry of the antarctic wind had suffocated the morning dew into a thin layer of crystal ice that capped each of the peaks but for one.
-The sharpest of them was slick with deep red blood, clinging on to liquidity as the wind, bolstered by a cold blue August sky overhead, eroded away its residual warmth. 
-Walking westward, soft silent footsteps gave way to the rising sound of glass cracking resonantly underfoot. 
-
-Visible through the shattered pane: the deep green grass of the courtyard, interspersed by thick  weeds resembling spinach and furry tufts of moss that had been torn up by blackbirds in search of worms in the early morning light. 
-Beyond: an ailing lemon tree, parasitised by wasps and leaking fragrant sap from its limbs, yet heavy with fruit in protest of its condition.
-The scene of green foliage and citric yellow backed by the wintry blue sky cut against the red puncture wound and shimmering whites of the broken glass,  it was accidental in its composition, and absolute in its devastation.
-
-An alarm was ringing. The source of the noise reported the time as 8:49am. For four minutes he must have stood transfixed by the damage, oblivious to the harsh square wave shaped beeps and vibrations of the device. 
-More noises filtered into consciousness as a return to awareness began. 
-A generator was humming dimly. Then, a popping sound. Another, louder and of a different timbre, then the first again. Soon the sounds were rapidly alternating, although devoid of rhythm and with no fixed cadence. 
-
-Nail guns. Construction had resumed on the lot next door. An unfamiliar shadow was being cast on the faded courtyard bench seat by the back door. Stepping through the door to investigate, the usual sensation of the morning sun flashing from right to left across his face, weak as it was this time of year, was absent. Scaffolding now towered overhead, obscuring the light, clanking when it was mounted and creaking while it was being traversed.
-
-The frame of the building had risen to a second storey and four wide voids in the timber work made clear where windows were to be set for the rooms of the upper floor.
-One of the tradesmen paused as they reached the top of the scaffolding and turned to look down at him standing on the courtyard pavement. 
-The sun had risen slightly and was now partially eclipsed by the tradesman, who was visible only as a dark expressionless silhouette. He waved. The shape made no motion in return. Abruptly it resumed climbing the structure, seemingly without having turned away.
-
-A third nail gun began firing.
-
----
-## $II$
-
-Returning inside there was no relief from the chill. The wind no longer needed the cover of darkness and had begun to gather in strength. It blew against the now exposed faded and yellowing vertical blinds of the kitchen window. They were bunched to one end, of poor quality, and designed so that a pitifully small piece of deteriorating plastic was all that attached them to the rail above.  The lines that formerly held the blinds in array had lost their anchors and become a tangled mess, constantly wet and increasingly barnacled as they draped down into the kitchen sink.
-The same brand of blinds covered every piece of glass in the house. In the bedroom, three of them had been tied back onto the railing with kitchen twine. Morning streamed in as a potted vine plant forced its tendrils through the gaps between the untethered blinds.
-
-A different series of beeps signalled five minutes until nine, and the day's first meeting: the morning report. Yesterday he had slept until midday, and consequently gone to bed without eating anything that could be considered a dinner. He had planned to eat a significant breakfast upon returning home but now there was no time.
-
-The scene in the kitchen would have to wait. He grabbed a piece of under ripe fruit from the bowl atop the counter and went to his desk to attend the report. 
-His workstation had cost his organisation an absurd amount of money and was state of the art. However, inexplicably, it would cycle its power exactly three times before successfully booting.
-After the first cycle he began pressing buttons at random on the keyboard:  
-
-`esc` `esc` `esc` `l` `a` `l` `a` `l` `a` `lemom`
-
-until the login terminal greeted him with the time at the top right of the display: `8:58am`
-
-It took two attempts - at an average of 2.45 - to correctly enter the randomly generated password that had been assigned to his workstation: 
-
-```
-Y,Sy-W$Cx;s%p]~9FL!r:(`
-```
-
-> [!WARNING]
-> Mandatory Software Update Required
-> ...
-> Restarting now.
-
-After another 3 cycles he logged in once again and prepared to join the report.
-
->[!INFO]
->The Morning Report has already commenced. 
->A notification of your request to enter will be sent to the attendants.
-
-He sighed and waited for somebody to accept the request.
-
-The camera light blinked on one second before a cacophony of voices erupted from his headset. He tore it off, his ears ringing, as he scrambled to find the volume controls. He had raised the volume in order to listen to music while preparing for his work today late last night.
-
-> Ah, the afternoon shift has arrived.
-
-a tinny voice quipped from the dangling headset.
-
-- 8:58
-- corporate spyware
-- monitor flashing off and on
-- 9:04
-- nice of you to join
-- good weekend?
-- more or less
-- ...
-

Bleak Week/September.md

@@ -0,0 +1,76 @@
+It is September and the Olympic Games have commenced their second week.
+
+- frozen, cold outside
+    - nuclear winter
+    - global warming came, fked shit up for a while
+    - volcano went off
+        nature showing man how it's done
+        man in hubris believed he would kill himself
+    - now everywhere is cold except <x> which is a lava covered hellscape
+
+## Gymnastic Weightlifting
+
+athlete steps up to a standing rack with a barbell
+120kg division, two red 25kg plates on each side
+steps up, gives the bar a quick caress 
+gracefully racks it on his chest
+clock starts at 01:00
+bar barely moving as core tenses and spine prepares itself
+performs perfect front squat very slowly, then 2 more fast
+
+another slow rep and then lowers it to the ground
+one quiet but solid thump as it lands
+good points for that, bounces are deducted
+
+routine clock ticks 00:45
+does a solid sumo deadlift, good triangulation in the legs, very symmetrical 
+lowers it, 2 thuds, imperceptibly winces
+( brief interlude of some kind of trauma )
+
+blinks as the routine clock ticks 00:40.00128s
+feet come to shoulder width
+camera tech shows an angle of 1.58deg  and -0.89deg on left and right respectively
+does a second deadlift, this time conventional
+strong back engagement, no noticible spine curling
+movement finishes with hip to skull angle of 4.322 deg past vertical 
+lowers once again, almost silent, 43db
+
+deep breath, dignified exhultation of
+> hup 
+power clean, very smooth catch
+
+a short pause, gathering of breath
+flashing of cameras
+tiny flecks of chalk floating through the air visible in the beams of the stage lighting settle upon the eyelashes 
+
+eyes widen ever so slightly as athlete inhales
+overhead presses the bar, strict form obviously
+returned to the popularity of previous years due to this very event
+bench press which was preminent king of lifts maintained its status in powerlifting but the overhead press as a common part of the gymnastic routine became much more popular for amateur lifters and reclaimed some of its former prestige
+
+bar brought down to the front rack where it began the routine
+bounces just above the crest of <country> flashing silver on the uniform
+
+some competing schools of competition in how a routine should end
+
+### as it began
+
+shows great symmetry
+aesthetically satisfying
+
+### behind the head
+
+allows for an extra back squat with the weight, demonstrating endurance
+back squat also very popular as a first move in heavier divisions
+no bar between athlete and judges makes for a more artistic finish as the athlete is completely visible
+(the author's preference)
+
+### on the ground
+places importance on a clean and solid ground placement 
+auditory element makes for an emphatic finish
+
+<somehow> racks are behind the athlete and they strongly, but somewhat awkwardly back into it and unrack
+
+clock strikes 00:00
+
+solid performance, crowd cheers etc

Bleak Week/_characters.md

@@ -0,0 +1,14 @@
+- the facility
+    - the technician
+    - the routine
+    - the engineer
+
+another two members spread across the city / country ?
+** THE TROIKA **
+
+- the business
+    - the manager
+    - the estimator
+    - the cleaner
+
+

Bleak Week/_concepts.md

@@ -1,4 +1,7 @@
+## setting
 
+DMC on stan lee:
+> [Stan Lee](https://genius.com/artists/Stan-lee) was brilliant. Stan Lee was a genius because he put the superheroes in New York. So when I read a Marvel comic book, it was real to me. Avengers Mansion is in Manhattan ... Oh shoot, Spider-Man’s from Queens, I’m from Queens too!
 ## protagonist
 
 not a programmer
@@ -6,6 +9,45 @@ but something like it
 ```
 senior environment monitoring technician at
 worm protein garden
-
+growtein industrial
 growtein garden
-```
+```
+
+
+## struggles
+
+### noise
+
+### dystopia 2025
+opsec
+
+### psychomedia
+
+unnamed overseas villain trying to destroy the food
+internal villain `` which is corporate software of the parent company trying to get in / help
+
+- nothing gets better, nothing gets worse
+    - things happen but nothing changes
+
+    .. except..
+
+- programmers have essentially become wizards
+
+- even when things are obviously completely fucked they will keep going
+   - crypto
+   - the routine is immutable
+
+
+### the hurt
+use scenes from the most extreme moments in life
+dostoyevsky going to the gallows
+serge
+aaron
+alex
+
+## style
+
+### hallucinatory
+barnacles in the sink
+holes in people
+parasites

Bleak Week/_principles.md

@@ -1,2 +1,16 @@
 - the passage of time is whatever i want
-    - hours, days even, can pass immediately
+    - hours, days even, can pass immediately
+
+- detours in the story are ok
+    - this is for the freaks
+
+- nothing gets better, nothing gets worse
+    - things happen but nothing changes
+
+    .. except..
+
+- programmers have essentially become wizards
+
+- even when things are obviously completely fucked they will keep going
+    - crypto
+   - the routine is immutable