the_dunk_tank
It's the dunk tank.
This is where you come to post big-brained hot takes by chuds, libs, or even fellow leftists, and tear them to itty-bitty pieces with precision dunkstrikes.
Rule 1: All posts must include links to the subject matter, and no identifying information should be redacted.
Rule 2: If your source is a reactionary website, please use archive.is instead of linking directly.
Rule 3: No sectarianism.
Rule 4: TERF/SWERFs Not Welcome
Rule 5: No ableism of any kind (that includes stuff like libt*rd)
Rule 6: Do not post fellow hexbears.
Rule 7: Do not individually target other instances' admins or moderators.
Rule 8: The subject of a post cannot be low hanging fruit, that is comments/posts made by a private person that have low amount of upvotes/likes/views. Comments/Posts made on other instances that are accessible from hexbear are an exception to this. Posts that do not meet this requirement can be posted to [email protected]
Rule 9: if you post ironic rage bait im going to make a personal visit to your house to make sure you never make this mistake again
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I'm going to go out on a superstitious limb here and say that these things are summoning jinn or something.
Lets make this horror movie
Some sort of digital soulless husk/golem that an incel sorcerer possesses with a conjured AI jinn. Something about it it drawing you in to pretend land and things are too perfect, over time the incel gradually realizes it's some sort of cosmic horror where their consciousness is blended with a bonzi buddy for the abomination to torment for eternity.
Thats some black mirror shit. Id watch that.
His fate is to read forwards from Grandma to a boomer who has passed away in a post apocalypse... Before they died they set it to auto read, Windows is set to never sleep, update, or shut down... The servers are still running, the bots are still writing, and the auto forward viruses are still forwarding. The incel buddy reads them as they come in, in a voice they do not recognize, emanating from a purple body he does not know. He reads the devolving gibberish non-stop and yet the unread inbox only grows. He sees the girlfriend avatar once in a while, she strolls by the digital landscape with the Chad digital boyfriend. She looks in his general direction, but won't give the incel buddy the dignity of eye contact, only a smirk as he reads off "New miracle cure for cellulite!". He feels like he could cry, but alas he has no more biological functions. He prays for the laptop to just break, but he knows the model number well... Dell Inspiron 9200.