(really looking forward to the commemorative t-shirt)
This is my fandom sideblog. Here you will find my fics, meta, and any other fandom-related stuff that comes to mind. In this house the Endgame ending is not canon and AOU does not exist. Just so we're clear.
AO3 does not live in “the cloud” because that is other people’s computers, and other people’s computers are vulnerable to censorship.
AO3 is on its own computers. It does still have to be housed somewhere, and I suppose a determined enough hater could try to find that place and go after it, but it’s a lot harder than sending spurious complaints to Amazon or whomever going “BadWrong things are hosted on your cloud service!”
Owning the servers is a core tenet of OTW/AO3.
Warming up a new database server….
When people involved with AO3 talk about “the cost of servers” they don’t mean “the cost to pay Amazon for space on their servers.” They mean, like, the cost to physically own them, and eventually replace them with new ones. And the operating costs to run them.
AO3 is not “in the cloud.” AO3 is stored on physical machines that the OTW owns.
While this is not a solution that can work for everyone who wants to deal with controversial content, it is why AO3ple sneer at alt-righters who complain about getting thrown off hosting platforms.
Because I want us to own the goddamned servers, ok? Because I want a place where we can’t be TOSed and where no one can turn the lights off or try to dictate to us what kind of stories we can tell each other.
AO3 is what a website looks like when you seize the means of production.
Please note that buying new servers and storage just became a shit load more expensive.
Because AI.
To paraphrase a comment on a Gamers Nexus video, the reason computer parts are getting so expensive is that a huge amount of RAM and storage that have not been produced yet were purchased with non-existent money to put in gpus and computers that have also not yet been produced to put in data centers that have not yet been built, to be powered by infrastructure that may never appear, to satisfy demand that does not actually exist, to obtain profit that is mathematically impossible.
So that’s fun. But it means that already owning computers that actually do the thing is SO MUCH BETTER than hiring other people to build more capacity to buy more computers to do the thing.
How bad is the RAM crisis? The price of ddr3, which is like 10-15yo tech, is going up. The price of DDR5 is now stupid expensive, 4+ times as expensive as it was a few months ago.
Mostly because there’s only one company in the world that is capable of generating the kind of chips needed and everyone uses that company because the modern world is a very precarious house of cards held together by tissue and string and we have a 50 foot toddler playing Godzilla with international trade.
Anyway AO3 is a goddamn miracle people need to respect.
I think this is especially worth pointing out now because if they start fundraising more then this is most probably why they need money. If anyone’s mad that AO3 needs extra dollars then, remember to blame AI.
“Your son will take your throne from you,” they prophesized, spitting each word out of teeth clenched tight with hatred. Why they’d bother prophesizing such an event befuddles you; your son is literally your chosen heir, after all.
Years later, you realize what the prophets meant. For most of your life your son was your pride and joy; an academic, who would surely lead the kingdom into greater health and wellness. Until he committed the ultimate act of betrayal.
“You will not take my throne from me!” You cling to your grand chair so hard your knuckles turn white.
Your son sighs. “Dad. Dad it’s lead-”
“Of course it’s lead! It’s a strong metal, signifying the strength of our country- this throne has been passed down the royal line for 300 years, 15 rulers before me-”
“That is not enough time for that many people!” Your son throws his hands up in the air. “Because it is lead! It is poisoning you! Didn’t you wonder why grandpa died at 40?”
“Ah, pfoo! That’s the ancestral curse.”
“It’s the throne! The throne is the ancestral curse!!!”
the son successfully convinces his father to give up the lead throne. he lives and rules peacefully for much longer than his family’s previous generations, dying in his third score.
the son, upon coronation, receives his own prophecy: “your daughter will tear your castle to the ground.”
now, this is a bit more of a cause for immediate concern, but unlike kings of old, he decides that the best way to avoid this surely gruesome future is to love his daughter the best he can, encourage her interests, and guide her with a steady hand - if she is to ruin his kingdom, after all, then let it be with iron will and care for the people.
his daughter is not violent at all, will only hunt if they promise the kitchens will cook what is killed and will give some to the people, and only takes a passing fancy in swordsmanship (which he thinks is more to do with the jawline of the instructor, not that he says anything). she loves to study and read, and when she asks to go for further education in a different corner of the kingdom, he allows it.
after one year, she returns, and spends the first week back acting shifty. she is always caught ducking out of corners and hidden passages, whispering with staff, and pouring over old maps of the castle layout in the library, hurriedly covering them up when anyone passes.
he privately gets his affairs in order.
two weeks after her return, the king’s daughter approaches her father with a steely look in her eye and a grim set to her jaw.
“father,” she begins, “what do you know of asbestos?”
vampires are so full of shit. “oh the human race is beneath us, you’re just livestock to us” I don’t think you know what livestock is. do you feed us? care for us? protect us from predators? no. you just slink around dark alleys and ambush people. that’s not what a higher being does. that’s a bottom feeder. a parasite. karate punches your head off
you’ve heard of death of the author, now get ready for death of the audience: where instead of basing your reaction on a thousand uninformed opinions online, you actually read the text and engage with it
ok I’m sure this has been said but Sokka striding into a fucking Fire Nation school as Wang Fire is incredible & has swagger, consideringthat the origin for Wang is “King” in Old Chinese. I know most of this website is usamerican, so, I’ll try to put this in a slightly lopsided, mostly vibes-based, and thoroughly unserious analogy:
The year is 1968, the height of the Vietnam War. A young Vietnamese dude and his sister walk into a conservative Christian school in Texas, United States to meet the principal. Not even batting an eyelash, the guy goes “Howdy, my name’s President America, this is my wife Miss America, and we’re here about our son, Jimmy.”
(Later, it turns out that Jimmy is Jesus, and he threw a hippie party in a cave for the school kids. He was enrolled for two days.)
things that always make me happy: serial commenters. there are three types
1) reading a longfic chapter by chapter, leaving an increasingly emotional comment on every chapter, descends into keysmashes near the end: outstanding
2) read one fic by accident, clicked the author name, now working steadily through the backlog and commenting on everything, I wake up to an AO3 inbox full of enthusiasm: precious beyond words
3) the longterm serial commenter whose comment begins with I don’t even know this fandom but because they have followed me from somewhere else: stunning. humbling. magical.
these are all *chef’s kiss* and I want to add one more: 4) left a comment a while ago, comes back and leaves another comment on the same fic, telling you that they’re coming back to reread the fic: angels. blessings. lifesavers.
ALT
