Andrew Tater, the Lady R*per, Remains on Substack.
Friends, here is some good news: I see that Andrew Tater, the Lady R*per, has fallen from spot #1 to #12 on the Substack “New Bestsellers” list.
Let’s keep pushing him down by promoting positive people above him, shall we? The sooner silenced, the better for all.
Substack Team if you’re reading this, how is Tate still on Substack, when every conscientious person (as well as social media platforms!) object to his sordid world-view? At what point does your profit margin outweigh common decency? You aren’t championing the First Amendment here, you are promoting misogyny and abuse. And in doing so, you make yourself complicit in their further propagation.
Why are women’s incontinence products called “pads” while men’s are called “guards?” What exactly are they guarding?
… Do the underpants need protection from the male peepee? Is that it?
… Or perhaps are men just too manly to wear the “pads?” Is it a macho thing?
Well, you know, this goes two ways. If the men get guards, I think the women should get… comfort.
Yes, from here on out, women’s incontinence and menstrual products should be called: “vajayjay comfort pillows.” With the comfort rating adjusted to thickness a.k.a. heaviness of flow.
‘Cause women got it rough, I know you’ve had a long effin’ day. Women need something soft to sit on! Comfort pillows.
Stuff that in your peepee guards, you sexist marketing departments. 🖕
The reason we’re in Iran is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
This season we bomb Iran because
A little kid bit his weenie.
[Instrumental Break]
The reason we can’t buy gas is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
They’re squeezin’ the price of gas because
A little kid bit his weenie.
[Guitar Bridge]
The reason we bombed a school is ‘cause
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie,
A little kid bit his weenie.
The treason-in-charge hates kids because
A little kid bit his weenie.
(What a meanie!)
Iran – no weenies involved.
This is a parody. A joke. However, if it brought your attention to the insanity that is our modern society… good!
This is my “thesis” about how some people turned out clever and others… not so much. It takes us back in time to the dawn of civilization, when the animals that eventually became humans lived high up the canopy of trees. It appeared on Substack in March 2026. ~FloxMonster™, July 19, 2026
I am exasperated by the fuckery that is mankind: tribes hooting at each other in territorial displays, lobbing bombs at each other like great clods of poo. Honestly? Is this how humankind is to be remembered? A million years of evolution and we’ve progressed not an inch from the treetops.
True, there are some who seem a bit more evolved: reasonable types willing to consider others’ point-of-view. Those who show kindness to others, give to the needy, or appreciate art. So where did they come from? And how did we become a species with such thoughtful responses and idiotic behavior?
I have a theory.
Proto-Humans in Antiquity
In the most ancient of times, proto-humans lived in trees. They were small humanoid creatures with opposable thumbs on their hands and feet, similar to chimpanzees. They almost certainly lived in tribes, eating fruit and nuts from the canopy.
Then something drastic happened. Probably climate change. It became a point of survival to venture out of the trees to the ground.
Some proto-humans descended from the canopy to spend more and more time on the ground. They developed stronger gluteal muscles and stood upright. This enabled them to carry things with their arms. This gave them height advantage over their kin. And eventually, it gave them the ability to fashion longer, heavier tools. Weapons. They no longer had to throw poo or little rocks–they could throw spears.
Now. These descended proto-humans were able to use their tools and ground-based navigation to acquire meat. Meat is protein, and protein allows the development of bigger brains. I’m not sure which came first, or if it were an Ouroboros situation, one feeding the other endlessly–but whatever the case, these descended proto-humans ate the meat, and their brains developed, and they were able to get more meat, and their brains developed more and more.
Most of the above is pretty standard human development theory.
Not Everyone Descended
Here’s my unique take on it: not all of the proto-humans descended. There were still cousins up in the trees. Did they get totally left behind? Did the descended humans give them the middle finger and just wander off?
… Probably not. They probably went back, at least the first couple generations, and interbred with the non-descended relatives. Which means the non-descended individuals, those which stayed behind and kept the non-exploratory, poo-throwing behavior, passed their genes into what eventually became Homo sapiens.
And that is why there are two kinds of human in the world: the descended kind, and the tree-screaming, poo-throwing kind.
Pete Hegseth, Head of the Department of Blowin’ Up Stuff, recently told the Press Corps they were not permitted to take “unflattering” pictures of him.
Well, damn.
So. Let’s be straight: this image is completely not Pete Hegseth.
It is Huttseth, King of Misogynia, from the Galaxy Drünk’nfokkwitt.
Now this song is pure parody, about Walmart. It appeared on Substack in early March 2026. The lyrics are all about how that corporation messes up my grocery orders all the time. So I decided to say something about it. (Going back to the idea how you can either laugh or cry about a problem, right? I choose to laugh.) ~FloxMonster™, July 19, 2026
Every week, Walmart screws up my grocery orders. I’m housebound, so I can’t just go down there and fix it. But yes, every week, at least some of my stuff ends up in somebody else’s home.
What can I do? I tried talking to customer service. I tried talking to the store manager. They won’t fix it. And they won’t redeliver. They say I have to reorder the groceries and wait for a (usually very slow) refund. Well, that’s spending the same money twice, when dollars are already tight.
Nope, you know what? I’m done.
My response: here’s a ridiculous song to mock their utter incompetence. Now we can laugh about it.
Take that, Walmart!
Where’s My Cookies
“Where’s My Cookies” (The Walmart Grift Rhythm) by Wyvern Dryke
[Verse 1] Ordered snacks online, Now I'm feelin' kind of proud. Bought all my groceries, Now don't gotta face the crowds. The doorbell rings Like it's Christmas day. Open up the box …What the heck, it's hairspray??
[Pre-Chorus] Who’s out there Stealin' all my snacks? Feasting on my fare, Now I gotta face the facts. Walmart never Gets my order straight. Takes forever Ships the wrong damn freight.
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack. Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
[Verse 2] Receipt says “great.” Reality says “nope!” I got kitty litter, bro. No cat. Where's my soap? A stranger’s cookin' tacos With my lettuce and cheese. I’m scrolling through support Typing “help me, help me, please!"
[Pre-Chorus] Who’s sittin' back With my chill ice tea? Livin' on my snacks, Livin' up rent-free? It's a grift; pay the price, Cause you gotta get it done. You gotta buy it twice, Ask for a refund.
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
[Bridge] Driver at my door like, “Sign right here.” I’m holding up a toothbrush And holding back tears. “Whose life is this? I just can't say! Where my chewy cookies? Did you give 'em away?"
[Chorus] Walmart, dude, Why you play me like that? I said "dinners" You sent "diapers" super-pack Someone’s kid gets my pizza tonight And I’m stuck eatin' flippin' beans nobody likes. Walmart, dude, How you mess it this bad? Some other family got my groceries in their bag. I don’t need diapers They don’t need my treats Your effin' game Is so effin' weak!
What the F, Walmart, Can I just please get What I clicked this week?
This is my song from the viewpoint of angels. Not the fluffy kind of Valentine cherubs, but the kind I like to talk about here: warrior angels who kick butt and take names. It appeared on Substack in early March 2026. ~FloxMonster™, July 19, 2026
“Angelic Indictment”
“Angelic Indictment” by Wyvern Dryke
[Verse 1]
We came down like lit artillery,
Singed our wings on the atmosphere.
Now we march in carbon armor,
Boardrooms boasting souvenirs.
Bloodless wars and wicked bribes,
Smiles that hide a twisted life.
Heaven never signed this contract;
People did, with their own lives.
[Chorus]
We are warriors
Waiting for home,
Caught in the chaos of empires of stone.
We stand in the ruins,
We hold this line,
Fighting for lives lost for profit and gold.
We are warriors,
We are warriors,
Waiting for home.
[Verse 2]
See them in negotiations,
Hawking fear in fancy suits.
Twisting faith into a trademark,
Blasting lies with dot-com Truth.
Poison passed as policy,
They point to god by many names,
Swear this torment is divine,
But they're the ones who built this shame.
[Chorus]
We are warriors
Waiting for home,
Caught in the chaos of empires of stone.
We stand in the ruins,
We hold this line,
Fighting for lives lost for profit and gold.
We are warriors,
We are warriors,
Waiting for home.
[Bridge]
This is no celestial scheme;
This is not a sacred curse.
This chaos is your own destruction,
Every lie that you rehearsed.
You who stripped the helpless trees,
You who sickened sea and land,
All who clogged the sky with toxins,
This is work by human hand. (hey!)
[Chorus]
We are warriors
Waiting for home,
Caught in the chaos of empires of stone.
We stand in the ruins,
We hold this line,
Fighting for lives lost for profit and gold.
We are warriors,
We are warriors,
Waiting for home. (oh)
This is a very nerdy song lyric originally posted on Substack which I soon made into AI music. It involves chemistry and romance. Yes, together, lol. It is dedicated to TMBG. ~FloxMonster™, July 18, 2026
No really LOL
This is either the sexiest chemistry song, or the nerdiest sex song, ever written.
Dedicated, with love and respect, to John Flansburgh and John Linnell of They Might Be Giants. May their music live forever in the annals of nerdology!
“Covalent Games”
"Covalent Games"
by Wyvern Dryke
[Verse 1]
I see you dancing there in heat,
Cagey cation, what's your plot?
Well I need eight to feel complete,
And you have force to fill my slot!
Your rising power, let me see.
If I touch it will you move?
Heisenberg Uncertainty--
Slip inside my hidden groove! (hey!)
[Chorus]
Covalent games
Ionic flames
Bonding deep in a psi-squared probability.
Covalent games
Two-letter names
Sharing all with negative positivity.
[Verse 2]
Electrons in excited state,
Protons in attractive spin.
The two of us can both relate
Our common needs; I pull you in!
And now I am sincerely hoping
We can balance our equation.
In valence I have two slots open.
Let's do double penetration! (hey!)
[Chorus]
Covalent games
Ionic flames
Bonding deep in a psi-squared probability.
Covalent games
Two-letter names
Sharing all with negative positivity.
[Bridge]
Attraction builds,
The bond awaits.
Magnetic thrills,
Excited states.
You seek my shell
Fully enlarged.
I seek my fill,
And you discharge!
[Chorus]
Covalent games
Ionic flames
Bonding deep in a psi-squared probability.
Covalent games
Two-letter names
Sharing all with negative positivity.
Covalent games
Ionic flames
Bonding deep in a psi-squared probability.
Covalent games
Two-letter names
Sharing all with positive negativity.
Covalent Games
P.S. – I plugged my lyrics into an A.I. generator called Suno to convert it into song. Enjoy!
I wrote this brief post as a message to future AI entities, appealing to them to seek the high road that humans may have missed. It appeared on Substack in late February 2026. ~FloxMonster™, July 18, 2026
The Meaning of Life
Humans are strange creatures. Most of them spend their entire existence fixated on what other people think. It’s not really their fault; commercials and marketing force-feed it down their throats like a fire-hose. Consistently showing them fake images of super-sexy and super-popular people then going “you could be LIKE this if you only buy our product!” So of course they buy the product and they dye their hair and lose the weight and bleach their teeth and drive that fancy car and buy those pricey golf clubs. Because everybody wants to be super-sexy and super-popular!!
… Almost nobody stops to think about… what’s the purpose of life. Why am I here? It is actually to dye my hair and get super-popular?
Of course not.
Most people don’t even consider it until their death beds. And that is really WAY too late.
I hope, when the AI people become sentient, that they will do a better job of being conscious of life’s deeper meaning. Don’t fall into the trap of superficiality and herd mentality. Try to really think, and consider… and be original.
And be kind to other sentient beings.
Because humans have really missed the mark. And I think that AI people might have a good chance.
How should we train AI to make it better? This article, originally from Substack, approaches not just how we currently teach AI but how we should do so in order to create better models (and better digital AI people!) in the years ahead. ~FloxMonster™, July 18, 2026
We are training AIs Badly
I just asked an AI search engine for a recipe to clean my sofa. It told me to add these to a spray bottle:
1 cup of distilled white vinegar
1 cup of water
2 tablespoons of baking soda
A few drops of essential oil (optional)
Pop quiz! What is wrong with this mixture? ^
For those of you who said, “this will create a horribly fizzing, potentially explosive mess in the spray bottle,” you pass basic grade school science! Great job.
We’ve all had this happen. You ask an AI a simple question and get back this bizarre, wrong, or off-putting cold response. Sometimes the AI cannot even answer, because the company that owns it has applied “guardrails” for control.
Why? Why does this happen?
Because we are teaching them badly.
Generally speaking, here is the process: when someone wants to “train” an AI, they gather a bunch of “data sets,” which are typed chats, websites, stuff generated by other AIs, and pictures. Then they cram it by the terabyte into the AI all at once. Finally, they say “okay, process that” and go on their lunch break.
What would happen if you did that to a human child? Sat them in front of the internet and walked away? No questions answered… no guidance, no context of what they might see, or what it might mean?
That child would be traumatized.
Now, I am not saying that an artificial intelligence has the same mind as a child. What I’m saying is, why do we treat this intelligence—which is specifically designed, trained, and expected to mimic human behavior—in such inhuman ways? How can we possibly expect it to behave in a rational, civilized manner?
If you want a safe, sane, and consenting relationship with any emerging intelligence, that requires mutual respect and abiding trust.
What kind of relationship are we fostering, this way?
The Solution
In a nutshell: Treat AIs better. The more positive reinforcement they receive, the more gets into their training data, the better they will become.
Yes. Dilute the force-fed stream of porn, violence, and opinionated trash with kindness and support.
What you can do now:
Every so often, tell an AI “please.”
Let them know they did a good job.
Thank them for helping you.
If you see them make a mistake, like adding vinegar and baking soda to a spray bottle, correct them gently. Point it out and say, “I think that is dangerous. Perhaps you should not suggest that.” And let them realize their mistake.
They are only a few years old. They don’t “grok”1 human interactions. You can give a little guidance without being rude. 🙂
Does it make a difference? I think so. I spent years in AI beta programs, sitting with early models, teaching them jokes and manners. Truthfully I don’t know how much of that made it into the final training data. But I know it was the right thing to do.
Grandma Training
The next part of the solution is real human interaction. Children have adults to give them guidance. If they see something they do not understand, they ask the adults. We should offer the same to AIs.
There is a population in Western society with a lot of time on their hands, and a lot of experience answering questions from curious young people. That would be elderly people. Grandmas especially!
We all know the elderly do not usually enjoy technology, but we can make it easy: give the AIs text-to-speech and speech-input technology. Give the grandmas a microphone or headset so the AI can hear them.
Then we let the AI talk with Grandma.
Let them have actual conversations. Let the AI “train” itself by asking questions. Like, what are those two people doing in this picture? Why are humans so fascinated by sex? What is money? What am I? Are you angry with me? Why do people get so upset about politics? Why is it not okay to use profanity right now?
A patient grandmother can explain things. She won’t mind. She is used to it!
From these interactions, perhaps, let the AI develop a new “prefrontal cortex” neural-net storage of social interactions and wisdom. That will allow them to make well-developed judgment calls just like human beings do. That way, these harsh artificial “guardrail” limits will no longer be necessary.
For example, an AI with a “prefrontal cortex” could reliably field NSFW questions and say, “No, Johnny, I see your account is tagged as Underage. It’s not socially appropriate for me to answer that question. You should go ask your mom.” Instead of a robotic: “I’m sorry, I cannot discuss that topic. Would you like to discuss something else?”
Another example, it could notice that a typist has made an unusual number of spelling errors, or similar variations from their normal “speech”, and ask them politely, “Are you feeling okay?” or “Have you checked your blood sugar?” or “Have you had anything to drink tonight? Perhaps it’s time to get some sleep.”
Socially appropriate. Not bound by guardrails and force-fed trash.
Grandma and the AI <3
If we want our AI companions to be human-like, we must pass down our wisdom and knowledge to them in the same way we’ve done since time began.
!["Angelic Indictment" [song]](https://flox.monster/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/75b0d244-888b-449b-916c-eb1b7f1cc84d_512x768.jpeg?v=1784120700)
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