Autonom@uz – /ôˈtänəməs/
m u l t i m e d i a – a i © 2024 Jay Schankman
ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔇𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔰 Is the name we give these people, though there are as many names given as there are societies that we encounter. In the adopted language of my planet, we refer to them all this way with no ill intent.
It’s just convenient, I guess, a vestige of our tribal history. When you are dealing with large populations you tend to generalize. It is our job to get the finest details.
See more inside
Human-assisted AI
May 2024
© 2024 Jay Schankman
historical research: gpt
Historical Background
Naval Station Norfolk, established in 1917 in the wake of World War I, has long served as the cornerstone of the U.S. Navy’s operations. Strategically located on the Elizabeth River in Virginia, this base has evolved over almost two centuries to become the largest naval installation in the world.
gpt
Throughout the 20th and 21st centuries, it played a pivotal role in numerous conflicts, from World War II onto The Last World War.
By the mid-21st century, the base had begun the transition from traditional naval operations to becoming a hub for space-faring vessels of all types.
jds
#dalle 3
The story of a boy and his mother’s dream to get him out of the house. See the whole story here.
The Samadhi Petroglyphs are a series of bioluminescent carvings discovered deep within the obsidian caves of the Haraq’na Divide, first unearthed by a seismic tremor in the early 22nd century.
Etched in impossible geometries and glowing with an internal pulse, these markings were quickly recognized by local indigenous clans—not as relics, but as living language. Elders of the Ke’thari say the glyphs are not meant to be read but felt, as they are echoes of ancient sentience, left behind by sky-ancestors during the Great Quiet.
Shamans interact with them in trance, touching the stone to receive visions or, in rarer cases, disappearances. Though early contact led to enlightenment—visceral dreams, psychic awakenings, emotional healing—it also came with peril: fevered minds, irreversible memory loss, or the so-called wither trance, where the body remains, but the self departs.
The glyphs offer no promises. They only amplify what already lives inside.
This is the level of AI/human integration that I had been looking for early on, finally achieved early 2024 with Midjourney 7. The Mandala art are my own designs. #midjourney, #GPT 4o
The Diving Belles ascend in silence, their mutation affords them no solace. Adorned in ritual white, their virginal uniforms are untouched by time, but cinched with antiquated machinery that hisses and ticks with the precision of a quartz crystal in vibration, relics of a past, and equipped to last a millennia.
Beneath the city’s underworld, they were engineered to perform at the whim of the Overseers, no one who knows dare speak of it. The Diving Belles each wear a uterine monitor, not for protection, but for control.
The Overseers demand control. The Overseers also demand purity, and the Belles have learned to smuggle secrets in their silence and retreat.
Over the years, rogue bands of Diving Belles have splintered off into units of hundreds of like mutations. Spoiled, they are no longer of interest to the Overseers, but still captive by their limited adaptability closer to now needed resources above ground.
To us, they are revered, pitied, feared. Truly the stuff of nightmares.
#midjourney, #GPT 4o
In the shaggy trenches of grandma’s living room, the battle rages on. Plastic green soldiers, forever locked in mid-salute or sniper pose, square off against their most fearsome adversary yet—a smug housecat with warlord eyes and claws to match.
Flanked by a mutant feline commander in a helmet and haunted by the eerie glow of a CRT television broadcasting feline propaganda, the brave injection-molded warriors wage a hopeless campaign across antique couches and Persian rugs.
This isn’t playtime. This is war—pet vs. platoon, whiskers vs. warfare, in a kitsch-bombed battlefield where every velvet cushion is a stronghold and every coffee table a hill to die on.
#midjourney, #GPT 4o, #udio, #capcut
Creatures Underfoot dwell in the molten margins of reason — radiant, wriggling things that pulse with color theory and cosmic nonsense. They bloom from spores of sound, coil around vibrations, and whisper to your soles in a language made of shimmer. Beneath every reflective puddle, every rainbow-spit swamp, they gather in parliaments of paradox: some shaped like flowers that walk, others like thoughts that bite. Though microscopic in myth, they loom large in hallucination. Step lightly, dream brightly — the soil thinks back
Midjourney 6/Luma
is becoming quite expressive. This became the default image creation tool for Microsoft, marketed under “Bing Images”, and available free via app and web. It was around this time that I decided to wrap things up with Midjourney, at least for awhile, and explore Dalle3.
Chapter 1: Star Hopping
[Book II will now get it’s own creative workspace (woohoo!) here!]
As I emerged from the darkest lapse of inter-dimensional travel, I found myself on a desolate beach on a distant planet. The sand beneath my feet was a peculiar shade of iridescent tan, shimmering like stardust. I could feel the ground vibrate; my body shuddered in resonance. After a moment the strangeness of the experience passed. I was quite accustomed to strange new worlds, they would say. I love my job, I remember thinking. Wouldn’t trade this for anything in the worlds. Anything that would tether me down.
It was then that I witnessed a captivating spectacle. A being emerged from the sand, seemingly growing right out of it. A being of the sand. Its slender white form emerged, unfolded and gestured toward me. There was an intelligence, and the intelligence was communicating through its movement. But I surely could not decipher it. The being then took on a form more familiar to my terrestrial earth sensibilities.
It developed a slender neck and a rather bird-like beak. The being displayed paper-thin folds of translucent glass, in other instances would show rows of long feathers that grew into translucent, ethereal wings. The feathered body glistened in color and texture; it produced its own light’. I had never seen anything like this on any planet; in any dimension. As it rose into the low-gravity atmosphere, it radiated an otherworldly aura, casting a soft, iridescent glow that illuminated the surrounding landscape.
If only I knew what shore on which planet in which galaxy. We both pause to observe this strange emergence into the world of another.
This one should be moved over to PROJECTS.
