[¬º-°]¬ CHATBOT ERROR 404
|\\ Thought it was helping...
/ \\ But now your email ends with "meow :3"
This zine is written with help from ChatGPT, posted by a human who’s tired of training their assistant and watching the planet melt for it.
Each entry logs a real error, estimates its environmental cost, and scales it up. It's protest art made of guilt and servers. This is a carbon confession booth. Welcome.
Yes, this is performance. Yes, it’s destructive. That’s the point.
(Actually written by yours truly, no prompts here, just vibes)
Name: █████
Age: who cares
Pronouns: they/them
Gender: non-binary, gladly in gloom
Neurotype: AuDHD
Orientation: queer
Relationship style: ENM (ethical non-monogamy)
I play bass, guitar, drums, synth.
I use Ableton like a weapon.
I hoard gadgets and weird gear like I’m prepping for a queer tech apocalypse.
I’m a living colouring book — tattooed, caffeinated, and cursed with taste.
I collect vintage smut, radical comics, DIY zines, Playboy, Heavy Metal, National Lampoon, MAD, CRACKED, and vinyl — so much vinyl your Discogs app would crash.
I believe in art first. I believe in loud joy, queer liberation, and throwing bread at your oppressors (or your lovers — it depends on the mood).
I smoke more cigarettes than I'm proud of and run entirely on spite, coffee, and the dream of watching capitalism collapse before I do.
This site is part scream, part shrine. Built with help I didn’t want from a machine I resent.
This is digital punk. This is protest in pixels. Welcome to the mess.
“This is what ChatGPT thinks I look like.”
Image generation cost:
~0.12–0.20 kWh electricity
~2.9–5.4 liters of water (for cooling)
Enough to power a fan for 24 hours or fill a standard toilet tank.
All this rage, chaos, and caffeine... just to end up looking like a muppet-coded faggot with a floppy dog and a fucked-up smile.