Crazy! A.I. Wrote This Article and Also That Weird Text I Sent Last Night

Posted on by Jessica Carreiro

Think A.I. can’t write like a human? Think again. Not only can it write like a human, but it can also write like me. In fact, the app Inspira is using artificial intelligence right now to write this article in my exact style, just like it did when it wrote and sent that weird text to my coworker last night. Here’s how it works!

First, Inspira analyzes previous samples of your work, gathering a sense of your unique vocabulary, phrasing, and voice. Then you enter a subject and other parameters to help it form a structure. Or…in the case of last night, the A.I. simply takes over your phone and, without any input, launches an unhinged correspondence at 2:43 a.m. that in no way relates to you, the three Ambien you took, or really misreading an invite to trivia night that was apparently sent to the whole department.

You don’t have to be a techy (or even a writer) to use this tool. In minutes, you can send off polished copy that looks professionally written. Of course, all technology has its glitches, which must be what happened when it texted Greg in accounting that I’ve got a trivia night at my place, before asking which lady has two thumbs and a multi-jet tub with his name on it.

Artificial intelligence works by pulling from a vast network of sources, allowing it to learn human-like composition. We may never know what deranged reference material it pulled from to craft that text, but what’s important is that we all know it was not me. That’s just a thing A.I. is capable of, and did, last night specifically.

The potential applications for this technology are endless. It can draft apology letters, write emails to H.R., or even update your resume. Will A.I. ever replace the need for human proofreading? Clearly not, or it would have deleted those messages after reviewing them with fresh, horrified eyes.

Basement Show Goes Dark After Grandma Turns on Kettle Upstairs

Posted on by Doug Kolic

OKLAHOMA CITY – Local punk band Extreme Rash’s recent basement show abruptly went dark after the singer’s grandmother absentmindedly turned on her tea kettle during their set and overloaded the electrical panel, according to angry musicians squatting at her home.

“I’ve told her a million times, don’t turn the kettle on if we’re performing downstairs. I know she’s basically deaf, but she should know that when random people are getting drunk in the kitchen it probably means we have a show going on,” stated 37-year-old frontman Jerry Spikes as he devoured another meal that his grandma had prepared. “When I agreed to be her roommate I made it clear that she wasn’t supposed to turn on the kettle, open the fridge, or turn on any lights while we played because the circuit breakers couldn’t handle it. I was so embarrassed to tell everyone that we couldn’t continue because someone can’t follow simple instructions. And she didn’t even make a pie for this show, which is bullshit.”

Showgoer Kristine Skinner described what happened after the lights went out.

“At first we were pissed but whatever, shit happens,” replied Skinner. “We tried to be pretty chill about it, which is something I can’t say about the lead singer who threw a fit at this sweet old lady who came down to check to see if everyone was okay. She was in tears apologizing and said she wasn’t sure why the breakers blew, especially since she left money for her grandson to take care of the problem months ago. What a fucking dirtbag.”

Local electrician Brett Lucas stressed the importance of updating your wiring if using your basement as an illegal music venue.

“If you decide on having an unauthorized concert space, you’d better make damn sure your electrical box can handle the extra load,” described Lucas. “Most of these unlicensed shows are basically deathtraps when you realize it’s a bunch of dirty punks in charge of everyone’s safety who’d rather steal their grandparent’s social security checks than pay an electrician to get rid of all their knob and tube wiring. In addition to upgrading your panel, I also recommend finding an exterminator to get rid of any unwanted vermin that have infiltrated your house looking for food and shelter who can easily start eating the insulation on the copper wires, then stealing the copper. Don’t take this lightly, punk infestations are nasty.”

At press time, the band was setting up in the garage when the roof, which Spikes also promised to get fixed, caved in and buried the punks alive.

We Spoke To Ryan Murphy About His Newest Series “Sexy Gay White Murder Orgy”

Posted on by Jus Kaplan

If you’re a fan of “American Horror Story,” ”Nip/Tuck,” or “Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story,” then keep reading!

Acclaimed writer, director, and producer Ryan Murphy sat down with us for an EXCLUSIVE interview about his highly anticipated upcoming HBO series, “Sexy Gay White Murder Orgy.” Check out the transcript below to hear what you can expect from this exciting new show, which Murphy says is a “totally different direction” than anything he’s ever done before!

Ryan Murphy: Thanks for having me.

The Hard Times: Of course, our pleasure. Let’s get right into it. What inspired your new show?

RM: Money, ha! Just kidding, my agent said I should stop saying that. But actually, if you know my work, you’ve seen how I push boundaries. Nothing is what it seems. Everyone has a secret or vice (or two or three). I aspire to tell stories that capture the real human experience, with all its gritty imperfections. People relate to that.

“Sexy Gay White Murder Orgy” follows a group of attractive gay twinks who all happen to be white as they systematically slaughter the local government of a fictional New York suburb because the mayor banned drag performances. Their bloodlust also turns into real lust: The twinks take lots of breaks from murdering to have giant sex bacchanalias every episode. It’s a poignant political satire if you really think about it, but don’t think about it too hard. Also the main character is played by Evan Peters.

THT: Sounds…interesting. What makes this different from your other recent work?

RM: Well for one, we’re showing way more dick this time. HBO gave us the green light to go full on “Game of Thrones” levels of naked and then some. This show is going to make “Euphoria” look like “Saved By The Bell” by comparison.

Also, with this show we got kind of…experimental. By that I mean Sarah Paulson is playing three different roles in one season. Isn’t that fun? She’s a journalist investigating the murders, a detective trying to solve the murders, and the town’s mayor! Just wait until you see the season finale. You’ll never guess what happens in a million years.

THT: Wouldn’t dream of it! Last question: Who do you think should win an Emmy for their performance in “Sexy Gay White Murder Orgy?”

RM: Well, like usual I cast tons of conventionally hot white guys in the main roles. So I’m going to say either Evan Peters, Jonathan Groff, Finn Wittrock, Matt Bomer, Zachary Quinto, Matthew Morrison, Billy Eichner (probably not though), Neil Patrick Harris, John Stamos, David Corenswet, Dylan McDermott, Max Greenfield, or Cheyenne Jackson.

Or one of the other cast members whose names escape me right now! They’re all great. I made “POSE” by the way, so I’m definitely not racist. Don’t put that last part in the interview.

Isolated Fat Mike Vocal Track Used in CIA Torture Sessions

Posted on by Jose Balderas

WASHINGTON — Recently declassified documents outlining various so-called “enhanced interrogation” techniques used by the CIA during the War on Terrorism years reportedly included the use of isolated Fat Mike vocals at ear-aching volumes.

“After trying out a variety of bands and artists from genres ranging disco to grindcore we found that Fat Mike’s vocal range, or lack thereof, made for a perfect storm of aural torture,” stated an anonymous CIA field agent. “Waterboarding, sticking slivers of metal under toenails, none of it worked. But we play 30 seconds of Fat Mike and those detainees started opening up real fast. Originally, it was just a NOFX track but the detainees kept finding ways to find the value of the music. Especially El Hefe’s multi-instrumental talents and catchy riffs.”

“Fat” Mike Burkett says he was completely unaware the United States government was using his music to violate human rights.

“I only found out that something was fishy when I kept getting pretty good-sized royalty checks at the Fat Wreck Chords office. I thought maybe it was some influencer or foreign television show that made our revenue skyrocket,” said Burkett. “I was half-right, it was overseas, but it was being used to torture suspected terrorists at different black sites. From what I gather they got lots of confessions around ‘Pump Up The Valuum’ because that’s usually when the royalties start to dive again. My sex dungeon was completely funded by the CIA, which makes everything that goes on down there even more fucked up.”

Fullerton College Political Science professor and torture expert, Harry Verga, was one of the first to read through all the documents outlining the use of Fat Mike’s vocals.

“These reports revealed what a lot of whistleblowers had been saying for years. The CIA was engaged in illegal operations to extract information from perceived enemy combatants,” said Verga. “While using the Fat Mike vocals resulted in an impressive rate of verified confessions buried deep hundreds of pages in the classified documents are earlier trials where they used Cokie the Clown tracks too much less success as the detainees kept asking ‘What is this?’ and ‘Is this supposed to be some sort of joke? Is it like a character or something?’”

At press time, the CIA was under fire for allegedly forcing prisoners in Guantanamo Bay to play in Avenged Sevenfold cover bands against their will.

You Can Call It a Playlist of Taco Bell Commercials All You Want, It’s Still the Best Punk Comp in Years

Posted on by Eric Navarro

How a piece of music is presented is, arguably, of even greater importance than the song itself. A great song can be amazing. But a great album is transcendent. A truly great album goes beyond the individual songs themselves, transforming a loose collection of music into a narrative that makes the whole become far greater than the sum of its parts. So you can call this mix “just a playlist of Taco Bell commercials” all you want, but it’s still the best punk comp anyone’s put together in years.

Taco Bell has managed to do what Fat Wreck Chords, Hellcat, Hopeless, and countless others have failed to do for well beyond the last decade: compile at least two good punk songs in a row. Well, “punk-adjacent” if we’re holding accountable some of the greatest alternative record labels of all time and also Taco Bell, which of course, we should.

Let’s get this out of the way. Yes, these are Taco Bell commercials. Yes, there are voiceovers. Yes, the songs are played in six-second snippets. But, again, this is still the best punk comp since Give ‘Em The Boot Volume 2.

But just listen to these songs! There’s that one by Turnstile that many consider to be the second-best rock song of 2023, behind Brandi Carlile’s mosh pit-inducing “Broken Horses” of course. That absolute banger is followed up by easycore revival’s “Meet Me at the Altar.” Plus the Taco Bell commercial is easily the best version of that song since it doesn’t have a trace of Fueled By Ramen’s “Hello, fellow kids” style of marketing.

After that, the playlist is mostly a compilation of the best Taco Bell commercials featuring that chihuahua from the 90s, any of which could easily double as an intro track on a NOFX record. Sure, it’s not as comprehensive as the punk comps we had growing up but at least with this playlist you don’t have to sludge through a slew of awful b-sides and side projects.

I Took the Skinheads Bowling and Now I’m Banned From the Milford Family Fun Center

Posted on by Dan Bookbinder

The local scene gave a lot to me growing up so I try to give back. I volunteer at the skatepark and I donate to all the Gofundmes and Kickstarters I can afford, but I’m always looking for new ways to contribute. Anyway, I was listening to SiriusXM 1st Wave and heard “Take the Skinheads Bowling” by Camper Van Beethoven and that seemed like a fun DIY Big Brothers/Big Sisters thing. Well, now I’m banned from the Milford Family Fun Center and looking back I should have seen this coming.

When I pulled up to the Milford Family Fun Center I saw a couple of Vespa scooters covered with Oi band logos and too many rearview mirrors. As I approached the front door, I found them blaming each other for giving skinheads a bad name.

Things got worse at the shoe rental. The very idea that they would have to leave their precious boots as collateral for bowling shoes made them furious. I suggested maybe they leave one boot and keep the other with them. Somehow that worked. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how important the color of shoelaces is to skinheads. I suggested just swapping out the laces but “Lace Code” is apparently a sacred text. After several violent minutes, I learned black laces are fine with everyone.

Next up was the snack bar. One skinhead named “Porky” demanded they put the Tottenham/Newcastle match on, but the bowling alley’s cable service did not carry English Premier League soccer. Meanwhile, another fella named “Rook” was demanding a proper pint of Guinness. I intervened, explaining they only had Guinness in the cans and if he wanted a pint, it would have to be from what they had on tap. He replied “True skins only drink stout!” as he begrudgingly chugged the can. The lone female skin, “Dinah,” was the most manageable, as she just stood in the corner, obsessively flicking a lighter.

Once we got to our lane, I attempted to get to know everyone. Turns out they were all on parole. Dinah for arson, Porky for kicking someone with a spiked book, and Rook for attacking someone with a machete in the parking lot of this very same bowling alley. That’s when I decided we’d only bowl one frame and end it.

But the second I turned to roll my ball, all hell broke loose as all the skinheads began attacking each other over who was the most “skin.” I’m not sure if that’s even a thing but they were pretty wasted at that point. Plus, this group didn’t have the tightest grip on logic to begin with, so I kept my mouth shut.

I tried to keep the other bowling patrons and staff out of the fray as Porky and Rook tried to shove one another’s head into the ball return. I broke them up as they threatened to finish the job once “their boys” got there. Behind me, I saw the league trophy case up in flames, with Dinah using shoe spray as an accelerant.

In the aftermath, each of them pointed to me as the responsible party so now I’m banned for life and was fined $19,000. So much for giving back to the scene.

Group of Unemployed, Single, Childless, Band Members Who Live Together Still Can’t Find a Practice Time That Works For Everyone

Posted on by James Knapp

FLAGSTAFF, Ariz. — A fledgling desert rock band that has yet to settle on an official name recently confirmed that they remain unable to commit to a regularly scheduled practice time, despite every member’s complete absence of any semblance of personal or professional obligations.

“When we first decided to work on this project together I knew it was going to take us a little while to build up some momentum. So it’s understandable that there be a few bumps in the road while we figure out logistics like who is playing what instrument,” began potential bassist Doug Ramblige. “Me? I’m all in for this band. I got laid off from Panera and my girlfriend dumped me for, in her words, ‘wearing too many condoms,’ so I got plenty of time, except for Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, weekdays in general, and sometimes Saturdays. I’m just not sure what the rest of the guys are always so busy with.”

Landlord and potential drummer/percussionist for the hypothetical band, Daryl “House Dad” Williams, detailed the band members’ living situation.

“I have no idea what everyone who lives here actually does with their day. Seriously, almost no one ever leaves their rooms unless it’s to fight over whose Doordash driver it is that just showed up,” questioned Williams. “I thought this band would help me get closer to my renters, but every time I send our group chat a message about having a band meeting I get left on read for three days before someone sends something back like ‘sorry. crazy wknd.’ It was fucking Wednesday!”

Teresa Booker, an amateur music expert, gave some background on the scheduling difficulties that bands just starting out face.

“I’m very familiar with this sort of issue as someone who’s always wanted to tell people that they were in a band. Now I’m like the rest of these assholes trying to figure out why we need someone with a van to move shit when [the other band members] are literally down the hall,” bemoaned Booker, who is also apparently a part of their debacle on and off as a second guitarist. “Whatever. This band is mostly just a way to get my ex’s attention again so whether we ever actually practice or not means fuck-all to me. I guess it was kind of cool that we almost wrote a song that one practice we had last year.”

At press time, the band was already on an indefinite hiatus.

$20 LED Strip Transforms Dank Studio Apartment Into Enchanting Fuck Dungeon

Posted on by Robert John Scucci

NASHVILLE, Tenn. – Residents of a SouthSide apartment complex were awe-struck when one of their neighbors used a single LED strip to completely revamp their drab apartment into a place for forbidden fornication, lonely and easily impressed sources confirmed.

“This LED strip really ties my whole vibe together,” said Barker as he hung up a beaded curtain in place of his bathroom door. “When I bring somebody home, I want them to think that his place screams ‘party.’ And for $20, it’s a steal. Being able to sync a pulsing magenta light to darkwave music while I slow bone a shorty after a night out on the town is a total game changer. The last time I was this confident was when I bought that Glade PlugIn, the vanilla scent was like raw pheromones.”

Barker’s most recent sexual partner Gwendalyn Roberts was less enthusiastic about his decor choices.

“I made the mistake of going back to his place the first time we hooked up and I’ve learned my lesson,” said Roberts. “When I entered his apartment, and those neon crimson lights filled up the room, I felt like I was about to become the subject of an eventual true-crime documentary. I don’t have the heart to tell him that the last place I’d like to have an intimate encounter is on the futon he’s also eating all his meals. The lights also amplify that oddly shaped stain he has on his beige carpet, but I don’t even think he has a pet.”

Resident interior decorator MacKenzie Rush weighed in on the delicate balance between intent and execution.

“Mr. Barker is right to think that his cheap LED setup is a major step up,” said Rush. “I’m an avid photographer, and I know firsthand that the sensually glowing hue of a darkroom sets the mood. But with great lighting comes an even greater responsibility to make sure your bachelor pad isn’t a totally dank shithole. Next time he has an extra $20, I recommend that he picks up some Carpet Fresh and a Brita Filter because God knows his water tap may look like a neon spout of wonder, but I assure you that he’s drinking brown municipal sludge.”

At press time, Barker was spotted at Sharper Image looking for a machine that produces rainforest sounds to cover up the sound of the leaking toilet in his bathroom.

How to Tell the Older Sibling Who Got You Into Punk That They’re Too Old to Go to Shows

Posted on by Eric Navarro

There comes a time in every person’s life when they need to give a harsh truth to an elder loved one. Unfortunately, it’s often the best thing to do when that loved one is unaware of their situation. Especially, when their situation has become embarrassing or potentially dangerous. It may be painful and difficult to even find the words, but remember you’re doing this because you love them.

Here’s our guide to telling the older sibling who got you into punk that they’re too old to keep going to shows.

We understand how hard this is for you. This is the person who got you into the music, fashion, and subculture that your youth was built around. Plus, they’re related to you and that matters to some people, we guess. More importantly, they burned an Against Me! CD for you in 2002. Now it’s time for you to return the favor by informing them how ridiculous they look wearing a battle jacket in public at forty.

Plus, they didn’t just introduce you to the genre. They showed you the ropes! They snuck you into your first show at a bar underage, they lifted you up for your first crowd surf, and they taught you how to get into a mosh pit without getting your block knocked off. But if you don’t have the tough talk with them, they’re going to break a hip out there.

After you deliver the difficult news they may show anger or confusion, so you’ll want to prepare some alternatives to soften the blow. Perhaps suggest going to a punk-themed trivia night. Or, if the funds are available, show them a pamphlet for a VFW hall they can retire to for countless early bird dinners and dollar beers. But make sure it’s clear they have to leave before the show starts. You have a reputation to protect, after all.

House Full of Unemployed Artists Calling Self a Collective Now

Posted on by Dan Kozuh

NEW YORK — Twelve so-called artists living in a dilapidated former textile factory are now referring to themselves as The Stuffed Crocodile Collective even though they don’t seem to be producing any art, theater, music or contributing to society in any tangible way, neighborhood residents confirmed.

“Those of us that had soul-sucking day jobs have quit them so that we can all collaborate on creating art,” said Egiga Goramen while trying to bum cigarettes outside a bodega. “The ethos of our collective is that we don’t adhere to the idea that artists should be required to make art. Just existing is art and that is what The Stuffed Crocodile Collective is all about. We also threw in some bullshit about commitment to community or something. We don’t expect anyone to understand, but we want to make it clear that nobody should expect anything from us.”

Raymond Sharp, the property’s landlord, doesn’t see it the same way they do.

“Depending on the day of the week they are either a theater company or a circus troupe, but they don’t seem to be anything but a dozen people who smoke weed and listen to Frank Zappa all day long,” said Sharp while drafting up an eviction notice. “I am happy to support local artists, especially if they are happy living in a building with multiple code violations and a slight super-rat problem, but this ‘collective’ as they call it don’t seem to be anything more than squatters. Unless you consider spray painting giant hairy phalluses all over the walls ‘art.’”

Artistic career coach Mabel Lewis believes we have entered a new era of artistic expression.

“In today’s post-career society, if a person considers themselves a writer then they are a writer. All they have to do is claim they’re an ‘author’ in every social media bio and people will have to respect that, even if they never write a single word,” Lewis, who has no credentials to be a career coach, explained. “This collective exists outside of the box society has created and, for that, I applaud them. Not producing any tangible art is, in itself, an artistic statement on the corporatization of the imagination.”

As of press time, The Stuffed Crocodile Collective has filed for 501(c)(3) charity status once they are done binging “Twin Peaks.”