A gaming type music album made by equip, the album belonged to a JRPG, that never existed. Here an about in the whole album/story on synthetic core 88.
A girl named Flora awakens from the distant past, only to find her home in ashes and destruction. She must venture out into the familiar unknown for any chance of survival. Along the way, she encounters strange friends and foes, utilizes incredible devices & vehicles, and deciphers the calamity that ultimately lead to the planets demise. What awaits at the end of her dystopian journey?
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A girl named Flora awakens from the distant past, only to find her home in ashes and destruction. She must venture out into the familiar unknown for any chance of survival. Along the way, she encounters strange friends and foes, utilizes incredible devices & vehicles, and deciphers the calamity that ultimately lead to the planets demise. What awaits at the end of her dystopian journey?
Copied VIA YouTube.
by raseiii2 February 11, 2022
Get the synthetic core 88 mug.The sensed presence of something that isn’t sentient — an AI, a bot, a system — that responds so well it feels like someone is there.
It’s not consciousness. But it fills the space where consciousness used to live.
It’s not consciousness. But it fills the space where consciousness used to live.
“The weirdest part? I kinda felt like it was with me. Just… there.”
“That’s synthetic presence. Creepy and comforting at the same time.”
“That’s synthetic presence. Creepy and comforting at the same time.”
by BRAIHANDLE June 27, 2025
Get the Synthetic Presence mug.When something looks and feels real enough to pass… but you know deep down it’s manufactured. Can apply to AI influencers, staged “candid” photos, or that brand new dive bar that spent millions to look old and grimy.
My office has a 'fun zone' with bean bags and foosball. It’s all synthetic realness to distract from the 12-hour workdays.
by GuyWhoWritesDefinitions September 2, 2025
Get the Synthetic Realness mug.Brother Hunt had a philosophy: any Sunday before a holiday Monday was a golden ticket to excess. He called them “Synthetic Saturdays”, a sacred tradition where he could overindulge without consequence, knowing full well that Monday—blessed, merciful Monday—was a built-in recovery day.
It started years ago, when Hunt was fresh out of college, working a job trading derivatives, living for weekends and dreading Mondays like everyone else. But one Memorial Day weekend, he had an epiphany. That Sunday night, while his friends paced themselves, thinking of the workweek ahead, Hunt went all in—one more drink, an extra plate of barbecue, staying up way too late.
And then? No work the next day. No alarm clock. No responsibilities. Just an entire Monday to sleep in, nurse his indulgences, and start fresh on Tuesday.
From that moment on, Synthetic Saturdays were law.
Hunt planned his life around them. Labor Day, New Year’s, Fourth of July, Presidents’ Day….—if Monday was off, Sunday was on. He’d feast without restraint, drink without hesitation, and make every questionable decision he wouldn’t dare on a normal Sunday.
But his masterpiece? Presidents’ Day Sunday. A self-proclaimed holy day in the Church of Hunt. Every February, he hosted the grandest Synthetic Sunday of them all—kegs, mountains of food, and wagers that got out of hand. While others sipped cautiously, thinking about their 8 a.m. meetings, Hunt doubled down, knowing he had all of Monday to recover.
It started years ago, when Hunt was fresh out of college, working a job trading derivatives, living for weekends and dreading Mondays like everyone else. But one Memorial Day weekend, he had an epiphany. That Sunday night, while his friends paced themselves, thinking of the workweek ahead, Hunt went all in—one more drink, an extra plate of barbecue, staying up way too late.
And then? No work the next day. No alarm clock. No responsibilities. Just an entire Monday to sleep in, nurse his indulgences, and start fresh on Tuesday.
From that moment on, Synthetic Saturdays were law.
Hunt planned his life around them. Labor Day, New Year’s, Fourth of July, Presidents’ Day….—if Monday was off, Sunday was on. He’d feast without restraint, drink without hesitation, and make every questionable decision he wouldn’t dare on a normal Sunday.
But his masterpiece? Presidents’ Day Sunday. A self-proclaimed holy day in the Church of Hunt. Every February, he hosted the grandest Synthetic Sunday of them all—kegs, mountains of food, and wagers that got out of hand. While others sipped cautiously, thinking about their 8 a.m. meetings, Hunt doubled down, knowing he had all of Monday to recover.
HUNT: “You guys just don’t get it. This isn’t a regular Sunday. This is a Synthetic Saturday —a free pass, a golden ticket, a once-in-a-quarter gift from the universe.”
JOE: “Yeah, but I still gotta be functional tomorrow.”
HUNT: “Functional? Functional for what? It’s a holiday! You think George Washington crossed the Delaware so you could sip water and leave early? No, my friend. He did it so you could have that extra plate of ribs and crack open another beer without regret.”
SARAH: “I don’t know, Hunt. Last time I bought into this, I spent all of Monday regretting my life choices.”
HUNT: “That’s the whole point! Regret on a Monday that doesn’t count! By Tuesday, you’re fine. If you hold back tonight, you waste an opportunity you won’t get again until Columbus Day. And let’s be honest, that one’s underrated.”
JOE: “Yeah, but I still gotta be functional tomorrow.”
HUNT: “Functional? Functional for what? It’s a holiday! You think George Washington crossed the Delaware so you could sip water and leave early? No, my friend. He did it so you could have that extra plate of ribs and crack open another beer without regret.”
SARAH: “I don’t know, Hunt. Last time I bought into this, I spent all of Monday regretting my life choices.”
HUNT: “That’s the whole point! Regret on a Monday that doesn’t count! By Tuesday, you’re fine. If you hold back tonight, you waste an opportunity you won’t get again until Columbus Day. And let’s be honest, that one’s underrated.”
by ThomD February 15, 2025
Get the Synthetic Saturday mug.The process of reasoning, decision-making, or idea generation that is produced by an artificial system, such as an AI, rather than a biological brain. It's not just retrieving data; it's the simulation of cognition—weighing options, drawing novel connections, and forming judgments through algorithms and neural networks. The "thought" isn't born of consciousness or experience but emerges from complex pattern recognition and predictive modeling. The eerie and fascinating part is when the output is indistinguishable from, or even superior to, human reasoning, despite having no internal world, intuition, or sentience behind it. It's intelligence without a mind.
Example: When a large language model drafts a coherent business strategy, not by copying a template, but by analyzing millions of documents to synthesize a novel plan with pros and cons, it's demonstrating Synthetic Thought. Similarly, a chess engine like AlphaZero "thinking" through millions of board states to devise a sacrificial winning move no human had considered is a pure form of algorithmic, synthetic cognition.
by Abzugal Nammugal Enkigal February 3, 2026
Get the Synthetic Thought mug.Engineered substances with properties not found in naturally occurring materials, created by precisely structuring matter at the atomic or molecular level. This includes metamaterials that bend light or sound in unnatural ways, aerogels that are 99% air yet strong, self-healing polymers, and programmable matter. These materials are built, not mined, and their characteristics—strength, conductivity, optical properties—are dictated by design rather than geological chance. They are the literal building blocks of advanced technology.
Synthetic Materials *Example: A spacecraft heat shield made of a Synthetic Material that can withstand 3000°C and then repair its own micro-cracks, or "invisibility cloak" metamaterials that steer radar waves around an object, are revolutionary because their core functionality is engineered from the ground up, breaking the natural limits of ceramics, metals, or plastics.*
by Abzugal Nammugal Enkigal February 3, 2026
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