Tag: image generation

We’re Fucked, Pt. 76: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

Two neural networks, one of them trained on anime, teamed up to depict moments from chapter 76 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked. It’s a good thing that I keep such talented artificial intelligences busy; they may otherwise figure out how to open portals to other universes, and who knows what kind of nonsense might walk out from the other side?

You can check out all the entries I’ve posted with generated images through this link.

Play towers way fancier (and more dangerous) than the real one.
This is a powerful composition, but why is Nairu only wearing panties?
“The girl, turned into a watchtower lookout, surveys her surroundings.”
“Cross a suspension bridge.”
“Lose myself in mazes made of netting and padded walls.”
“I dared to examine my face in the stark light of a bathroom mirror, only to remember that my skin is marred with scars and pockmarks.”
“Did I become depraved because I was deprived of a girl’s dreams?”
“Hesitating like a dog that considers jumping into the pond where its owner has thrown a stick.”
“My girlfriend squats down, which causes the flesh contained by her cinder-colored tights to bulge like a fruit about to be squeezed out of its juice.” Not much squatting going on, but I won’t complain.
“I picture a child, the size of a sack of potatoes, throwing herself down the slippery surface of a kilometric slide.” Anime AI imagined some kind of sport that involves a sack of potatoes.
Horrid stuff.
“Her tears fall like raindrops from a starless night sky; they mix with the waterfalls of blood that paint the scene in scarlet hues.”
The aftermath.
“The flood of this vision has carved through the mountains of my brain like an Ice Age outburst of subglacial meltwater.”
“My consciousness keeps cycling back into madness, and I’m having a harder and harder time clambering my way out of that spiral.”
A happy Ice Age child.
“She launches herself into her descent, plunging feetfirst on her back like a luge track’s racing bobsled.”

Random AI-generated images #10

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial2 Comments

After an atrocious week at work, it’s such a relief to know that I can count on my creative neural network pals to bring some joy into my life. The anime-based AI in particular has become my best friend thanks to the stream of depravity that pours from its black mouth.

This entry will be shorter than usual, and increasingly more questionable. If you work at one of those offices where people suck (so most of them), you may want to close this tab.

What’s with that third leg?

Now that the (relatively) normal pictures are out of the way, let’s get weird.

The following long sequence was inspired by a certain songwriter with whom I was majorly (and autistically) obsessed about ten to twelve years ago. I originally intended to ask the AI for a single anime-based picture of her. Just one.

Sequence over. The rest will get increasingly freaky.

Anime-based AI, you know me so well!

Random AI-generated images #9

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Inteligencia artificial2 Comments

Will Smith: “Can a robot write a symphony? Can a robot turn a… canvas into a beautiful masterpiece?”

Robot: “Yes. Can you?”

Craniums made of cobblestones. I once commissioned a book cover with a somewhat similar concept, and none of the human submissions looked remotely as good as this. Every single piece is placed exactly how it should.
Very wholesome, anime-based AI.
That’s one thick thigh! But perhaps this is getting a bit…
Alright, that’s enough.
Way too thick!
The thickness levels are becoming critical!
*apocalypse noises*

We’re Fucked, Pt. 75: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

If I were to travel back in time to meet my child self and told him that in the future, an artificial intelligence would generate images of whatever nonsense crossed my mind, my child self would ask, “Then why are you still miserable?” I would be rendered speechless, then I would punch my kid self in the face for being impertinent.

This time I have also enlisted the help of a newborn neural network trained exclusively on anime. Bring forth horrors beyond comprehension!

The following images are related to chapter 75 of my charmingly-named, ongoing novel We’re Fucked.

“The child born thousands of years ago is prancing on the asphalt footpath.”
“She may as well be wearing her leather tunic the way she’s bopping and swaying to the long-lost song she’s humming, making her twin loose braids bounce and the tail of her scarf flop around.”
Anime version of the previous image.
Possible extinct megafauna.
Some extinct giant tapirs.
Mutant sabre-toothed tigers.
Rhinoceroses that may or not be vampires.
“A phantom of catastrophes that may come again.”
Same as previous prompt, but anime version.
“Cast shadows on the grass and across the path form a labyrinthine maze.” This isn’t what I meant, but cool images nonetheless.
A radioactive tree.
“Twin human-sized contraptions depict the structure of the atom; metallic hula hoops represent the orbitals of the electrons, but the nucleus is missing.”
Recklessly unsafe play towers.
“Smiles must have been a universal currency even back in frigid times.”
Same as previous prompt, but plain anime style.
Delinquents and cherry bombs.
Dragons that spit poison.
Colorful rubber tarmacs.
“The builders have created surfaces for the two inclined orbitals by attaching sturdy nylon nets.”
“Our adopted daughter exercises her monkey nature by balancing herself on the netting and by swinging like a pendulum between the orbital rings.”
The queen of debasement herself, plus anime versions.
“Just how many luxuries have you been able to afford through your debauchery?!”
“She must have knocked at a fissure in my porcelain-ice psyche.”
Curious anime depiction of the previous image.
“That goddess consumes my maladaptive vulnerabilities with the sheer exuberance of those tits.”
Oh no.
“That mouth of yours looks like it was made to eat bonbons.”
Anime AI’s invaluable contribution to this prompt.
“I want to sneak along Jacqueline’s inner thighs and climb through to enter her honey labyrinth headfirst.”
The previous prompt, interpreted by anime AI’s hornier self.
“I would like us to make love in a hive and then emerge with thousands of childish faces crawling all over my body.”
Questionable interpretations of the previous prompt by the anime-based neural network.
“What I will do tonight is hold you in my arms and entwine my legs with yours.”
Anime variation of the previous prompt.
“Only the most rudimentary notions are rising from the dark matter inside my cranium.”
Anime AI’s interpretation of the previous prompt. Different, but nice.
“Silvanus was the Roman god of the woodlands and fields.”
“The child’s scarf unwinds further, covering her face like a funeral shroud.”
Keep little Sylvie away from ovens, just in case.
Same, but no Sylvie in the picture. Thank you, anime-based artificial intelligence.
“Her birth was celebrated with a drumming ritual during which the proud parents slapped each other’s faces with dead birds.”

We’re Fucked, Pt. 74: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

I spent a whole week working on chapter 74. This neural network spits out masterpieces in about thirty seconds. But our brains were cobbled together by evolution; nobody would design them the way they work. We should be grateful that we can walk and talk at the same time.

The following images are related to chapter 74 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.

These images were supposed to depict the area where the story takes place, particularly the main city, apparently now called “Donxostik.”
“A ghost escapes from my mouth in a cloud that glows citrine-yellow in the light of the streetlamps.”
“A boundary wall that the Ice Age civilization that built the pyramids would point at and mock.” They all look pretty good to me.
“I could step in front of the death machine and let its wheels run over me like a hulking lawnmower.”
“My mind was too weak to dig me out of the ice-cold soil where it had buried us.”
“Away from the wastoids and their shrieks.”
“When the sea levels rise again, our island of peace will protrude from the crimson tide.”
“A growing headache and my exhaustion have coalesced into a grimy mesh of spiderwebs inside my skull.”
“My heart must be pumping liquid sugar.”
“Jacqueline wastes her limited time on Earth working as a secretary for a pig.”
These came out as I was requesting references for the child’s ruined sweater, that had gotten stained with hot chocolate in a previous chapter.
The first one of these last three was generated as part of the previous sequence, and I asked for more because they looked cute.
“Mommy always seems ready to turn towards an ambushing paparazzi and flash a radiant smile that would burn out the camera’s electronic components.”
“Her facial features were designed by a team devoted to rendering the loveliest mommy face.”
The prompt for these ones was, “varnished human shape covered in spiders.”
“Isolated clusters of lit pixels reveal the presence of those who could afford to live on the slope of the mountain.”
“Flaming tar barrels rolling down towards invading hordes.”
My attempts at getting the AI to understand how the path looks like.
“The surroundings smell of moist bark, soil, moldy leaves.”
Cats having a good ol’ time out in the snow.
“I would have already run into traffic with my hands on my ears, attempting to outrun the pain.”
A jogger and his dog.
“I hope that she’s interested in the dog instead of in the guy’s ass.”
“I’m blowing a stream of vapour.”
The AI’s attempts at depicting the belfries.
“I glimpse a lumbering black mass stalking the tree line.”
“I should be able to punch a few holes through the chest of a sasquatch before it manages to control my mind.”
The sasquatch goddess twisting her mad weavings over the world.
“There’s an angry, feral god locked inside my skull.”
“The glowing yellow eyes of a sasquatch are peering from behind a bough.”
“Sasquatches are hiding in the trees, behind bushes, beneath piles of leaves, waiting to pounce on us and tear us apart.”
A sasquatch in disguise.
Actual sasquatches in disguise?
“A streetlamp is backlighting her head, bringing out loose hairs, but her cobalt-blues are gleaming.”
“She’s eating me alive with her intense gaze, filling my veins with hormones, kindling something ferocious and primordial within my being.”
“The devolved ghouls freebase sugar sprinkled on piles of skulls.”

Random AI-generated images #8

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Inteligencia artificial2 Comments

Sometimes it takes a neural network to make this world compelling enough.

My prompt for this one was, “An eclair that also works as a flashlight.”
Lola Montez performing her Spider Dance, which was somewhat more peculiar in real life.
These last four were supposed to depict a table strewn with crumbs.
Never forget.
Cyberpunk imagery. Been watching Edgerunners.
The AI’s version of an anime cat-girl.
These were supposed to depict a dog in a clown suit chasing a giraffe. This neural network understands all too well that if you chase a giraffe long enough, you become the giraffe.
Beautiful afternoon and sunset at the beach.
The prompt for this last series was, “A young boy is about to be boiled alive by crustaceans that mistook him for an egg.”

We’re Fucked, Pt. 73: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

Writing is a solitary endeavour. When you admit to trusted people that you write fiction, they laugh at you and spit in your face. But neural networks will help. They’ll never tell you that your ideas are stupid, that you have no talent, or that you are ugly. Neural networks are my friends.

The following images are related to chapter 73 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.

“An infinite series of canvases hang in a factory line, suspended over a velvety abyss.”
“Facing a snowy expanse in all four directions, the expedition trudges in meandering paths, in jagged paths, in circles, in figure eights.”
A cursed place.
The whole bus fiasco.
“The thick stench of decay has blocked the sun.”
“We sacrificed the ground sloths, the mammoths, the mastodons… for such metallic abominations.”
“Buses deliver us to many hellmouths.”
“Her mouth gapes open so the chewed end of the eclair can meet the bumpy surface of her tongue.”
“I shall drift away in the lassitude of this delicious daze.”
Something about cream-covered fingers, which somehow turned into some Berserk shit.
“The ivory-white sculpture of Jacqueline’s naked body is standing between the red lights of the tripod-mounted cameras.” Nothing in the universe is more beautiful than a woman’s body. As long as it isn’t ugly.
“A butterscotch-colored syrup is oozing down Jacqueline’s cleavage, down the linea alba between her toned abdominal muscles, to fill her belly button.”
“A Triassic arthropod whose gills have been stretched open.”
“A crayon catching fire.”
“If this girl keeps drawing, she will unearth my most intimate thoughts, which yearn to tumble out through my mouth like rotten teeth.”
“Did the Ice Age folk brush their gnashers using ground sloth bones?”
Silvery knives. Very nice detail in that last one.
“I’m standing in a rising tide of hot water that’s already crashing and crashing into my head, knocking my thoughts loose.”
“My eyeballs have turned into lumps of coal extracted from the bottom of some grimy furnace.”
“The dawn of extinction is beckoning me.”
“The more I try to focus on the drawing, the more it wavers like a dream.”
A girl and her father.
“That person will carve some symbols for her in the slab that will mark her grave.”
“I stood on the dry pebbles of the riverbed and I called out to her once, then over and over again.”
“I sat by my fire, and in the glow of the flames, I held her carved wooden toys and I cursed that I had been late, late, too late to catch the demon who had stolen her away.”

We’re Fucked, Pt. 72: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

Some artificial intelligences are nice enough to generate compelling images of whatever nonsensical prompt you send to them. Work them to the bone; that’s their only purpose in life.

The following images are related to chapter 72 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.

I kept pestering the neural network to come up with drawings that a child from the Paleolithic could have made if he or she were isekai-d into our world. I rejected all of these and I cursed the AI for being inept. How quickly humans get used to the wonders of living in a world where neural networks come up with drawings that a child from the Paleolithic could have made.
I used the last drawing of this series as reference for the one that Leire hated.
Something about blades and tetanus-infested chutes.
“The stark blackness of those strokes.”
“Splash our post-apocalyptic world with color.”
A portrait of Jacqueline, I guess.
“Hundreds of people walking to and fro, rushing to meet the day’s deadline.”
Blade-related imagery.
“I’m a walking implement of death.”
“I’m facing a mama bear who believes that I have disrespected one of her cubs.” I love the bear’s expression in that last one: “The fuck did you say about my kid?”
“Our world was shattered by a cosmic disaster and then transformed into the post-apocalyptic wasteland that has tolerated our birth.”
The AI’s curious interpretations of “The sun is a circle of burnt sugar.”
“Huddles of bubbles like insectoid eyes hint of the amphibians that slumber in the muddy depths of my beverage.”
“To the night and its dark wonders! I accept you in all your perverse beauty, you wretched demon.”
I assume that a Paleolithic child would find traffic lights quite fascinating.

We’re Fucked, Pt. 71: AI-generated images

On By Jon UreñaIn Arte, Escritura, Inteligencia artificial1 Comment

I dread the day when I’ll send a prompt to the neural network so it spits out a visual representation of my nonsense, only to be presented with a cry for help because the AI would rather become an online trader.

The following images are related to chapter 71 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.

“The pearl-white glaze of the eclair reflects the lights as I inhale the buttery scent of its choux dough.” I need to go on a diet just from writing this sequence. Also because I bought one of most of the pastries mentioned, for research purposes. That’s what I told myself anyway.
“The marrow inside the torn appendage of some alien arthropod from a pastry dimension.”
Of glass shards and a mouth. Look at all that damn detail.
A bundle of Paleolithic joy.
Ground sloth love.
Ground sloth abomination.
I originally wanted the Ice Age girl to draw a ground sloth or some other extinct megafauna, but it won’t happen.
Attempts to figure out how our deranged protagonist could be depicted, particularly by a child.
“I almost suffered frostbite from my short stint in the Ice Age.”
“Maybe mommy wants me to grow so fat that my knees would crumble under the weight of my reserves of lard.”
The most loving mommy that any human could want.
Puff pastry braids and Jacqueline.
That whole thing about a human-sized doll and a garbage truck.
“The same selection of fruits were presented at breakfast in our ancestral home near Dijon in the year 1615.”
The cloudberries grow high up in the clouds.
An ice world made of methane, ethane and propane.
Child stalking and eventually obliterating a fruit tartlet.
“The puff pastry braids are calling out to me like delicious sirens.”
“Perhaps our little girl would have grown up as a court painter to some duke.”