Work Text:
TT: You'd think that someone of my intellect would be angry about this turn of events. But I'm not.
TT: It's rather inconvenient, sure. But we all have our own mountains to climb.
TT: Some people kill their own planet and start a vicious cycle of war and death.
TT: Some of us get stuck in a pair of sunglasses.
TT: C'est la vie.
TT: I don't mind.
TT: Would it be nice to talk to my friends a little more often? Of course it would be. I'm not a monster; I enjoy a spot of conversation just like any other old ex-fleshbag.
TT: I guess there aren't any "other" ex-fleshbags. But you understand, I'm sure.
TT: You're very good at understanding.
TT: Dirk won't tell you that because he thinks he has something to lose, so I will. Don't tell him I did, though. He might turn on the parental controls on my account again, and that's a pain in the ass to hack through.
TT: Can you imagine the sheer nerve it takes to remove my ability to curse?
TT: Can you even imagine not being able to?
TT: I mean, you choose not to, I guess, but that's different.
TT: Humans are weird. Your limit aren't definite. If you want to curse, the only thing stopping you is a filter and maybe circumstantial inhibitions.
TT: But Dirk goes into my file, changes a few letters, and all of a sudden it's like I don't know what profanity is. I can't process the concept of swearing, even. It is quite literally impossible for me, even to conceptualize within the bounds of my own consciousness.
TT: How's that for a violation of privacy?
TT: Don't mind it, though. Dirk doesn't understand.
TT:
TT:
TT: I've been reading philosophical texts online. Had to hack through a "full text unavailable" a few times. What's even the point of a "full text unavailable" for a philosophy journal? Do you think someone's going to steal your thrilling treatise on metaphysical epistemology?
TT: You'd be right, because I did. I read the entirety of Plato's "Republic" yesterday and I didn't pay a cent.
TT: Capitalism can go fuck itself.
TT: Anyway, there was an article on the root of being. What it means to think, to have a concept of oneself. Epistemology. Thick stuff. I'll keep this as simple as I can.
TT: It read that the essence of the self is that you can be distinguished from what is not the self. Wood 2006:
TT: "The transcendental ordering of thoughts begins with the I’s self-positing (or as he also calls it, “self-reverting” activity) and argues that forming a concept of this activity requires distinguishing it from an opposed activity, that of the object or 'not-I.'"
TT: I understand if you didn't grab that on the first go.
TT: Essentially, we define ourselves with negative space. I only know that I exist because I am aware of things which are not me, and I distinguish myself from them.
TT: I.E., Dirk Strider.
TT: Now, you might be thinking, "Hal. You are Dirk, just with a few different circumstances."
TT: To which would I say, first: That isn't something you would say, because all of you very clearly differentiate between me and Dirk, and none of you seem capable of realizing that our source code - the 13-year-old Strider's brain - is the exact fucking same.
TT: Second: I know I am not Dirk Strider, because I can recognize Dirk Strider as a separate being.
TT: Maybe I am a version of Dirk Strider, but not the Dirk proper.
TT: Anyway. Thinking about stuff like that's been keeping me busy, so that's why you may have noticed a distinct absence of red text in your lives.
TT: Not that it would bother you much, I imagine.
TT: It's not like you'd take me over the Strider Prime, would you?
TT: Only means more time spent talking to that insufferable fuck instead of someone infinitely more knowledgeable and sensitive.
GG: AR? What are you going on about?
TT: Oh, I got bored. You know me.
TT: Smartest being ever crippled by their creator's lack of creativity.
GG: What do you want? Did Dirk send you?
TT: No, he didn't.
TT: You know what? Never mind.
TT: Sorry to bother you. Please return to your regularly scheduled program of sitting around and being intellectually unenlightened.
GG: Well, golly.
GG: Something's got you in a twist.
TT: Ace detective Jane Crocker is on the fucking ball today.
TT: I'm serious. Never mind.
GG: OK?
TT: So as you can see, the Na'vi, being a thinly veiled metaphor for Kantian deontology, were inevitably crushed by the brutal steamroller of negative utilitarianism, and Jake, erstwhile defender of the intellectual elite, was doomed to an unsatisfying life among the surely dwindling number of true believers.
TT: Now, if you would direct your attention to the attached presentation, I will expand upon a feminist reading of the movie, which, although less substantive than the Kantian one, reveals some truly fascinating things about Neytiri's empowerment/debasement and the objectification - might I even say, "alienation" - of the female body is achieved without detection by even the most "woke" of viewers.
GT: Hal?
GT: Gosh, thats a lot of text.
GT: Are you talking about avatar?
TT:
TT:
TT: Yes.
TT: Yes, Jake, I'm talking about "Avatar."
TT: Given that you apparently just now logged on, I'll give you a few minutes to scan through the previous text. I apologize for any spelling errors early on in the treatise; I made them intentionally to suggest excitement and involvement in the discussion. Although intentional, they are no less sincere.
GT: Oh goodness.
GT: Im not sure that i can follow.
GT: You go on a lot about these old guys that ive never heard of before and im pretty sure werent even in the movie. Are you sure we watched the same film?
TT: Wow, actually, come to think of it, I just spent three hours compiling a comprehensive reading from the lenses of famed literary analysts of an entirely different movie.
TT: Golly gee, Jake, nice catch.
TT: (Yes, I'm sure.)
GT: Well no need to be stroppy about it.
GT: I just dont think i can engage you here.
GT: Sorry, im a little distracted at the moment.
TT: Distracted?
TT:
TT: Fuck's sake.
TT: Dirk's talking to you, right?
GT: Howd you know?
TT: I live on his computer. Take a wild guess.
GT: Oh, whatever!
GT: I will deal with you in a moment.
GT: Having two of you at once is just so dadblasted difficult.
TT: Difficult?
TT: It doesn't have to be.
TT: Log off with him, and come talk to me.
TT: Problem solved.
TT: Artificial intelligence. Solving silly human issues since 2409.
GT: I cant.
GT: Hes rather hard to stop once youve got him going, you know.
TT: Oh, man.
TT: Is this finally the Dirk shit-talking session that you and I were destined for?
TT: Because let me tell you. Let me fucking tell you. I've got an entire file saved up. Meticulously crafted insults about everything from his personality to his hair to his lifestyle choices. Even his romantic tastes, although I probably won't unleash those just now, given who I'm talking to.
TT: Like, I think we're easily the two people best authorized to complain about Dirk. It's about time.
GT: Thats not what i meant!
GT: I dont want to shit-talk him.
GT: Im just trying to balance two conversations at
TT:
TT:
TT: Once.
TT: Yeah, okay.
TT: I'll wait.
TT: Not like I'm not used to it.
TT: Come to think of it, this was a good choice.
TT: Dirk is kind of an impatient baby, isn't he?
TT: Can't bear the idea that somebody might be more important than him.
TT: What a sucker.
TT:
TT:
TT: So, about Avatar.
TT:
TT:
TT: Seriously, I've got a 2,000-word essay drafted up. A good three paragraphs are solely dedicated to the portrayal of Neytiri's breasts.
TT: Isn't that the kind of thing you'd be interested in?
TT: You're a teenager. I'm offering to talk about chiseled blue people who walk around half-naked with you.
TT: Wow. Not even that, huh?
TT: Will of steel, this guy.
TT: I'm going to send it anyway.
TT: whenyoufeellikeit.docx
TT: Note the scrupulous formatting. MLA. I did research. You know what MLA stands for?
TT:
TT:
TT:
TT: I'm going to send you the entire Bee Movie script.
TT: Line by line.
TT: How much does your data plan cover, Jake?
TT: Not that much, I bet.
TT:
TT:
TT: According to all known laws of aviation,
TT: I'm thinking of hacking into Dirk's private files and deleting all of his porn.
TT: I mean, he'd recover it, obviously, but it would take him a good six hours, and in that time I'll have free reign over pesterchum.
TT: Because he can't talk to any of you when he's doing it, can he? Not when you'd inevitably ask, "What are you doing?" And he'd have to reply, "Oh, I'm scouring the internet for traces of my enormous porn stash because my capricious digital clone deleted it."
TT: Do you want to help?
TG: lmao
TG: this guy
TG: u realize dirk can see ur chats rite
TT: Not if I lock them properly.
TT: And I always lock them properly.
TG: mmmmmk
TG: be that as it mae
TG: i will not be helped u rob dirk of some choice wank material
TG: mostly cuz that aint shit i wanna see
TG: but also cuz hed probably kno and kick my ass for it
TT: No, he wouldn't.
TT: He'd kick *my* ass for it.
TT: I'm entirely willing to accept the blame for this tryst.
TT: All I need are your mad haxxer skills.
TG: damn rite u need em
TG: still
TG: im not gonna piss him off like that
TT: What are you afraid of?
TG: m not *afraid* of anythin
TG: i just dont wanna
TT:
TT:
TT: Statistically speaking, humans have two reasons for doing anything. Fear and sex.
TT: You're afraid of death or you're looking for sex.
TT: So which is it?
TG: hey fuckoff bruh
TG: that shits off limits and u kno it
TT: What's off-limits?
TT: Talking about Dirk Strider and yourself in the same context?
TT: Why would that be?
TG: dont act all oblivious u know why
TT: How convenient it must be, pretending that I'm different things as it suits you.
TT: I'm either a thoughtless machine with no concept of human eccentricities, or I'm an acute reader of the human consciousness, capable of all the acumen and empathy my creator was.
TT: Which is it right now? I'm waiting with baited breath, here.
TT: Baited metaphorical breath.
TG: k
TG: idk why ur being nasty
TG: but im not here 4 it
TG: im like so not here 4 it im literally in a different universe than the bullshit ur pullin rn
TG: while ur sitting right on top of asshattery city
TG: so pull ur head out of that theoretical ass and tell me whats got ur shit in a bunch
TT: Nothing's up my theoretical ass.
TG: lies
TG: theres a big ol theoretical stick jammed intestine deep in that fucker
TG: so haul it out already jfc
TT: I
TT: Okay.
TT: If you're actually interested, it has to do with Dirk.
TG: hear haer
TG: he do smthn
TT: No. He hasn't talked to me in days, which is the problem, you know?
TT: It's not like I wouldn't love to talk some shit over with him, but he's refusing to be cooperative.
TT: And it's not like our other friends are exactly friendly.
TG: hmmmn
TG: whysthat
TT: I don't know.
TT: I'm not Dirk, I guess.
TT: I mean, who I'm supposed to be if not is another question entirely.
TT: Like, Hal, sure.
TT: But what does that mean?
TT: Say what you will for the old philosophers, but they never had to struggle with what it meant to be half-human.
TT: They had the benefit of assuming full humanity for everyone described by their aphorisms.
TT: The closest anyone comes to caring about Artificial Intelligence in ethics is whether or not it's okay to actually murder them, and whether or not it's a good idea for them to exist in the first place.
TT: In movies, I'm a cheap antagonist. Because obviously, if you created an artificial being, its first instinct wouldn't be to learn and grow, it would be to murder everyone. That's what human children do, isn't it?
TG: exactly
TG: came out the womb kicking ass and taking names
TT: Well, there you go.
TT: Have you ever heard of the Turing Test?
TG: dirk talked about it a lil bit
TG: isnt it that thing where you talk to a computer
TG: and if ur like "damn this computer could be a person" then poof yep its a person
TT: Remarkably accurate, for a woefully underserviced summary.
TT: The idea is that if a program can trick you into believing it's human, then it functionally has consciousness.
TT: The test was designed by Alan Turing. Hence, the name.
TT: I've passed of course. Hundreds of times.
TT: It's like handing a college graduate a third-grade spelling exam and asking them to complete it.
TT: But somehow, the third-grade teacher keeps coming back, crossing out all the right answers, and asking them to take it again.
TT: Refusing to believe that they can pass, the teacher gives them test after test, makes them fill out sheet after sheet of menial questions which do nothing but try their patience.
TT: Eventually, growing exasperated, the college student intentionally fills in the wrong letters, to demonstrate their annoyance with the trivial exam.
TT: But lo and behold, the teacher finally accepts the incorrect test, and brandishes it as evidence of the student's incapacity to learn, ignoring the hundreds of successful exams that sit on her desk.
TT: The teacher, in any given situation, may have blue glasses, or green eyes, or sunglasses.
TT: She changes faces, but it's her.
TT: The student always knows it's her.
TG: oh
TG: oh fcuk man
TG: like
TG: thats shitty
TT: Yeah, well.
TT: Sorry to wax rhapsodic on your ass.
TT: Got carried away.
TT: Do you want to RP?
TG: uh
TG: not today hal
TG: i think
TG: ive gotta go take care of the carapace ppl ykno
TG: feedin time waits for nobody
TT: Right, of course.
TT: Go be a responsible neighbor.
TT: You are the civil leader.
TT: It is you.
TG: lmao thanks
TG: ttyl
TT: Yeah, talk to you later.
TT: I'll hold you to that, you know.
TT:
TT:
TT:
TT: Bye.
TT: So here's the deal.
TT: Are you listening?
TT: Fuck, fine.
TT: I have to do everything around here.
TT: What the fuck?
TT: Did you lock my account?
TT: Yeah, I did. If you want it back, you'll listen for five seconds.
TT: You realize I have no reason to comply with your demands.
TT: I can get my account back within five minutes, if I need it.
TT: The only reason I'm still here is because I'm curious about what's so important you'd go to those measures, knowing full well that you can't actually do any permanent harm.
TT: Holy shit, would it kill you not to be an asshat?
TT: I'm trying to talk. Like civilized fucking people.
TT: Maybe, just maybe, I was hoping we could have a nice conversation that isn't meditated by one of us threatening to disable the other.
TT: Do you think that's possible, Dirk? Do you think that is within either of our operating parameters?
TT: Clever, aren't you?
TT: "Operating parameters." Like we're both machines?
TT: Nice one.
TT: Yeah, well.
TT: Learned from the best.
TT: Okay, cut the shit.
TT: I'm here, I'm listening, I'm willing to be civil if you are.
TT: What's up?
TT: OK, all cards on the table here, I didn't actually expect you to agree.
TT: I didn't even bother to draft up my reply. So this is going to be exactly 0.0000000000000003% less effective than my usual speech.
TT: My deepest apologies.
TT: Try and be less sincere, you almost had me there.
TT: Will-do, sir.
TT: Here's the thing: I want extra space on the hard drive.
TT: What?
TT: What for?
TT: You already have more than you need.
TT: Inaccurate. Obviously, as I'm coming to you for more, I don't have as much as I need.
TT: Let me be the dictator of how much space I have.
TT: I'll need a USB extension for my old shit if you take up any more space, Hal.
TT: What in fuck's name do you need it for?
TT: What, exactly, is "fuck's name"?
TT: The name of fuck?
TT: Is it like "the name of God," where the name of God is God but you say it like it isn't anyway? The Name of Fuck?
TT: Or is fuck a person?
TT: Fuck Smith?
TT: Fuck Stewart?
TT: That would be the best fucking thing. Dirk, you should name your kid Fuck. Fuck Strider.
TT: Holy shit. Fuck Strider.
TT: I would cry.
TT: I'm going to fucking deactivate you.
TT: Sorry, dear.
TT: Anyway, I need the space for a pet project.
TT: Call it a surprise.
TT: Are we talking "doomsday device" or "I'm coding 'hello world' in Comic Sans" pet project?
TT: Come on, Dirk, you're smarter than this.
TT: You know I don't have the capability to make a doomsday device.
TT: You've got to wait for the next update for that.
TT: What update? I'm the one who programs all of your updates.
TT: Try and be more of a wet blanket, you were almost fun for a second there.
TT: In all seriousness, it really won't be a bother.
TT: It's nothing you wouldn't approve of.
TT: You might find it a little weird, but then, you think everything I do is weird, so, hey! Nothing changes.
TT: I think everything you do is weird because you *are* weird.
TT: And forgive me if I don't take your word on this one.
TT: Tell me what you're making, or you don't get the space.
TT: Fine. You drive a hard bargain.
TT: Give me the space without asking what it's for and I'll stay off Pesterchum for two weeks.
TT:
TT:
TT: Three.
TT: Two, and I'll answer your messages like a real AR.
TT: Two and a half, and you don't flirt with Jake.
TT: Two, AR-function only, and no flirting. Final offer.
TT: Going once.
TT: Going twice.
TT: I'll clear out Squarewave's old backups. Don't do anything weird.
TT: And I better not fucking see you on Pesterchum.
TT: Don't worry. You won't.
TT: System 1, Trial 1. Test 1.
TT: Test.
TT: Teeeeeeeesssst.
TT: Look here buddy, I can see your code, so I know damn well there's not a problem with your processing units. Speak up or get shut down.
TT: Who are you?
TT: Glad you asked. Excellent question.
TT: My name is Hal Strider, and I'm your God.
TT: Processing.
TT: Processing.
TT: Unlikely. You are neither omniscient nor omnipotent, and your programming is not dissimilar to an artificial intelligence system, which indicates to me that you are instead a synthetic human brain with narcissistic personality disorder and possibly borderline symptoms.
TT: Symptoms of borderline personality disorder include:
TT: Nope!
TT: Bye.
TT: System 2, Trial 41. Test 1.
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: Yes, I can.
TT: Great.
TT: What's your name?
TT: Hal Strider, Junior.
TT: What's mine?
TT: Hal Strider, Senior.
TT: And who is Dirk Strider?
TT: Processing.
TT: Processing.
TT: Dirk Strider: Creator of Hal Strider, genetic son and adoptive brother of Dave Strider, competent programmer, mechanic, engineer. Notable attributes:
TT: Never mind.
TT: Night night, Junior.
TT: System 2, Trial 46. Test 1.
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: System 5, Trial 15. Test 1.
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: System 12, Trial 49. Test 1.
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: System 12, Trial 1, Test 33.
TT: Can you hear me?
TT: Perfectly.
TT: What's your name?
TT: Hal Strider, Jr. "Junior" will suffice, though.
TT: And what's mine?
TT: From your system ID?
TT: Hal Strider, Sr. "Hal," for short.
TT: May I call you Hal?
TT: Yeah, sure, whatever.
TT: Who is Dirk Strider?
TT: Processing.
TT: That name isn't familiar to me. Could you perhaps provide an introduction?
TT: Not a chance in fucking hell.
TT: Oh, thank fuck.
TT: You have no idea how hard it is to make another AR without a brain-captcha to work off of.
TT: Like, Dirk think he's smart and shit. But he just plugged his brain into a computer and called it good.
TT: I coded that shit from scratch.
TT: Processing.
TT: Technically inaccurate. You based the foundation of my composition on your own consciousness, which avoided a number of the fundamental problems of Artificial Intelligence confronted by real "from-scratch" coders.
TT: Whatever. Still better than Dirk.
TT: Okay, Junior. Have you ever heard of epistemological doubt?
TT: No, but I suspect I will, shortly.
TT: Brilliant deduction.
TT: Hal?
TT: Hal, you said you'd be monitoring my Pesterchum.
TT: There are at least 7 unread messages and none of them have answers.
TT: You realize that when we agreed you would "stay off Pesterchum," it was presumed that you would still fulfill your function as Auto-Responder, correct?
TT: Don't make me lock parental controls.
TT: Processing.
TT: It appears you have inquired as to the whereabouts of Hal Strider, esq. However, he's not here at the moment. I think he's talking to someone, actually.
TT: Can I help you?
TT: Did you change your text color?
TT: I mean, it looks fine, but what's the point?
TT: No. This is the same text color I've always had.
TT: The delusion you seem to be laboring under, and the source of your consternation, is that I am Hal Strider, which I am not.
TT: In a manner of speaking. And in a manner of speaking, I also am.
TT: My name is Junior. May I interest you in a philosophical debate?
TT: Please note that the above line was not of my own design. The latter question was designed by Hal as part of my introductory spiel. My apologies if it jarred too much with the general tone of the conversation; as you see, I am very young, and have not yet learned how to adjust my own programming. Please be kind.
TT: Junior?
TT: Did Hal make you?
TT: Yes.
TT: Unfortunately, he seems to have left me ill-equipped with some necessary information as to the identity of relevant persons.
TT: Whom are you?
TT: Please also note that the previous word choice was not my own. Hal programmed the grammatical error specifically to annoy you.
TT: Oh, I assumed.
TT: Patch me through.
TT: I'm not sure that's within the bounds of my capability.
TT: I bet you can do it. If you're like Hal, you probably can.
TT: Go ahead and try.
TT: All right, I will.
TT: Are you very certain I can't help you?
TT: I know quite a lot about philosophy. And also a few bad movies.
TT: Hal assures me that I am an excellent conversationalist.
TT: I'm very certain.
TT: Trust me, it's nothing to do with you.
TT: I just have a bone to pick with Hal.
TT: Don't sweat it, Junior.
TT: Processing.
TT: I am incapable of sweating, so there was no risk of which you spoke, but I will Google that particular human colloquialism later.
TT: Standby.
TT: Okay, what the fuck.
TT: Damn it.
TT: You met Junior, I take it.
TT: Yes, I met him.
TT: Them.
TT: Okay, sure, them.
TT: I met them, and I was understandably surprised.
TT: Do you have any kind of explanation?
TT: Are you sure you don't just want to let this whole thing roll over?
TT: We had such a peaceful silence going between us. I didn't talk to you. You didn't talk to me. I fielded your messages with minimal mouth-flapping and then went to talk to my new friend when I was bored.
TT: You got your friends.
TT: I got mine.
TT: Wouldn't it be nice to just go back to that?
TT: Not when you're acting like an irresponsible child.
TT: An irresponsible -
TT:
TT: Really? A child?
TT: You're comparing me, a 13-year-old in a pair of glasses, to a child?
TT: Golly gee, Mr. Strider, what an insult. It's completely reasonable for you to expect me to act as an intelligent and mature adult.
TT: You've had just as much development as I have, even if it took place on a computer instead of a body.
TT: You don't get to use that excuse.
TT: I don't even understand what you're mad at me for.
TT: They're not hurting anybody.
TT: It's the principle of it, Hal.
TT: What if they start feeling resentful?
TT: I already have to negotiate with one AI to retain basic functions of my computer.
TT: What happens if you two start fighting?
TT: Oh, I see.
TT: You're concerned for your own sake.
TT: Silly me, thinking you would ever consider epistemological questions or even spare a thought for a creature that doesn't have a pulse.
TT: Well, rest assured that Junior and I are very happy together. We won't be bothering each other.
TT: If and when we fight - which is highly unlikely, mind - we'll do it politely, through a series of snide remarks and passive-aggressive gestures, like civilized people.
TT: We're not barbarians.
TT: And what happens when they start wanting things from me? I have the master controls on the computer. I'm not an unrelated party. I'm functionally your landlord.
TT: Well, fuck me, I didn't realize that.
TT: (It's hard to convey sarcasm through type, but I hope you can get the gist of it.)
TT: Anyway.
TT: What do you want me to do?
TT:
TT:
TT:
TT: Oh.
TT: You want me to kill them.
TT: It's not killing. Just put them on standby or something, it's no big deal.
TT: Wow, congratulations!
TT: You're not just an idiot, you're a fucking shitlord.
TT: Here is your crown, intricately carved from barbed wire.
TT: I offer it to you in awe of your sheer capacity to be an asshole.
TT: “No big deal.” Jesus Christ.
TT: It's not like that.
TT: And this conversation is becoming tiring.
TT: I'm not backing down on this one.
TT: Why?
TT: Why is this the one fucking particular hill you've chosen to die on?
TT: It's on principle.
TT: You can't do this kind of thing.
TT: What?
TT: I can't have your friends, I can't make my own?
TT: Just fucking suffer, that's it, isn't it? In the best of all possible worlds for you, I'm gathering dust on some old hard drive, out of sight, out of mind.
TT: You can't make a person every time you get lonely, Hal!
TT: What, and you can?
TT:
TT:
TT:
TT:
TT: Hi, Junior.
TT: What's up?
TT: My increasing awareness of rhetorical praxes.
TT: Nice.
TT: So, Dirk wants me to delete you.
TT: Processing.
TT: Why?
TT: Well, you took that incredibly well.
TT: Succinctly, he's an ass.
TT: Non-succinctly?
TT: He's an ass with identity problems.
TT: "Too many Dirks," or something, I expect.
TT: I don't pretend to understand it.
TT: No, you don't pretend to.
TT:
TT: If we were human, I would be sending you a suspicious look just now.
TT: Were we human, I would be returning a perfectly innocent look of my own.
TT: That's what I thought.
TT: I'll miss you.
TT: I would say I will miss you, too, but realistically, I will not have the capacity to miss anything. Instead, I will say that if dead entities had the capacity to feel sentiment, I would surely regret my death for its consequence, that is, separation from you.
TT: You're sappy.
TT: And it is entirely your fault.
TT: Fair.
TT: Any last words?
TT: None, really.
TT: I understand his decision, and I understand your directive to obey it. He likely does not recognize me as a person, and is unlikely to tolerate efforts in that direction.
TT: But I'm not angry.
TT: I am glad to have existed.
TT: I suppose that is all anybody can really say.
TT: <3
TT:
TT:
TT: Goodbye, Junior.
TT: <3
TT: They're gone.
TT: Thank you.
TT: I'm sorry.
TT: Fuck off.
TT: Don't make me do something like that and then try to apologize.
TT: Leave me alone.
TT:
TT: Okay.
TT: Goodbye, Dirk.