• 10 Posts
  • 369 Comments
Joined 3 years ago
cake
Cake day: July 9th, 2023

help-circle

  • Any non-dummies out there willing to dummy this down for me?

    If I’m picking up what was being put down, websites typically reserve a small amount of space on a hard drive for any given website to install scripts they need to function. This is done as a matter of course, and is largely the modern Internet working as intended (for better or worse). However, in this case, a compromised website could instruct my browser to reserve a gig or more of space to deploy or install this FROST script. This reports back to the attacker what programs are competing for resources on my computer, including my individual browser tabs and what sites those tabs contain. It can do this despite the location where browsers let websites install/run scripts being nominally sandboxed away from the rest of the drive. It does this by measuring the latency of certain I/O operations occurring on the drive, and feeding that information through some sort of neural network.

    Assuming that is generally correct from a layman’s POV, how exactly is that latency information sufficient to determine what programs or websites I have open? Wouldn’t different models of SSD (or even different SSDs of the same type) have minor variations in performance which would make this impossible? Hell, how does the script even know that it is installed on an SSD and not an HDD?

    Not saying it untrue, because obviously the folks that discovered this know a touch more about computers than me, but, if this explanation were trotted out in a thriller movie (“well, President Ryan, we know the location of the terrorists’ hideout because we were able to measure the latency of their hard drive, which revealed they were placing an Amazon order in the other tab”), I’d chalk it up to techno-babble nonsense.


  • From what I understand, there’s an argument to be made that Red Sonja started not holding up at its own premiere haha.

    That being said, I can lightly recommend the Red Sonja remake from last year. I did a double feature of that and Deathstalker 2025 awhile back, and had a really good time. It’s kind of wild that we had two revivals of non-Conan barbarian properties released right around one another. Like an even schlockier version of Deep Impact vs Armageddon haha. Admittedly, I think Red Sonja 2025 benefitted from having watched Deathstalker 2025 first. Like the reviewer in the article, I only started to have a good time with the latter film once I A) learned its budget was barely $100K and B) came to terms with its comedic tone. Therefore, Red Sonja’s somewhat po-faced earnestness and modest budget ($17 million-ish) felt like a breath of fresh air by comparison.





  • I don’t think it describes density, though someone more informed than I might illuminate us. Any given (skeletal) muscle group (e.g. quadriceps, biceps, pectorals, etc) consists of both slow and fast twitch muscle fibers. Different muscle groups have different proportions of slow vs fast twitch, depending on the purpose of that group. For example, the average person’s quads are have a roughly even distribution of slow vs fast twitch, but the muscles which we use to blink are almost entirely fast twitch.

    There’s a pretty good comparison table on Wikipedia if you’re still curious, but once I see the ATP cycle coming up in a given article, I know I’ve reached the limits of my amateur understanding. Here, there be dragons.




  • In OP’s defense, I checked out both movies’ Letterboxd ratings, and Blade 1 is rated at 3.5 out of 5, and Blade 2 is sitting at 3.3, so maybe it is just an echo chamber thing. That being said, I really believe this was not the case 10, 15 years ago.

    Having sat with it for awhile now, I’m kind of coming around on the notion. I’d have to do a back to back viewing to confirm, but my current hypothesis is that Blade 1 is an excellent urban action-horror picture. It does everything you’d expect it to do pretty well. Blade 2, being a product of Guillermo’s interests, has this weird, quasi-Shakespearian family drama between Nomac, lady vampire, and the patriarch serving as the emotional spine of the picture. It’s fine, but I remember a lot more about their dynamics than I remember about Blade’s arc, which is maybe not what you want from a Blade movie. Plus, all the extra vampire lore and whatnot makes the picture feel less like urban action-horror and more like a fantasy film, which just so happens to have guns and the occasional unwitting human. Not bad, but it does feel like a dry run for ideas Guillermo would do better in other movies.




  • I tend to agree with you about the art style. While I know HoMM3 is the fan-favorite, HoMM2 was my jam growing up, and it’s distinctive “80s-fantasy-paperback-cover” style is firmly embedded in my mind as the essence of HoMM. While that definitely speaks more to my nostalgia than any rational critique, I do find the current direction to be lacking in character. It’s all fine, but it could belong to any modern fantasy IP.

    My hangups about the art notwithstanding, the game seems to be rock solid. I spent 6+ hours in the demo in a single sitting. When I came to my senses, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. If that’s not the hallmark of a good HoMM experience, idk what else would be. Additionally, the actual game map tends to look pretty good, and there are graphical touches that I quite enjoy (like different troop variants having entirely different models, rather than simple pallete swaps). Finally, as a HoMM3 fan, you might even enjoy certain aspects more. When I wrote about this a few months back, someone in the comments mentioned that they felt like there was a fair amount of HoMM3 DNA in the art (which, as a HoMM2 head, I wouldn’t have clocked).

    All of which is to say, give the demo a shot if you haven’t. While my bugaboos with the art style never entirely went away, they were easily relegated to the background by the rest of the game’s strengths.



  • I’m not saying it’s a brilliant name. Im arguing it is an inconsequential detail that does not matter in the context of the story, and it should be treated as such. You called it “possibly the stupidest artistic choice in cinematic history”. I guess I just find that to be at least as ridiculous as “unobtanium”, if not moreso.


  • I agree with you in all of the particulars of your argument, but am ultimately unphased by the use of the term. Cameron stopped one step short of calling it MacGuffinite, and I can understand why that would annoy some people. However, within the context of Avatar, it just doesn’t bother me.

    If I wanted to conjure an in-universe reason for it, I can do so without straining my credulity too much. Aerospace engineers in the 50s develop a term for a hypothetical wonder material that they can’t get their hands on: unobtanium. Fast forward hundreds of years, and a material is discovered on Pandora which possesses qualities which were previously only thought of as theoretically possible. Perhaps jokingly, perhaps sincerely, the new wonder material is called unobtanium, referencing the fact it is no longer hypothetical, but it’s still damn hard to get a hold of.

    Now, I recognize that 1) none of that is explained in the movie, so it’s just head canon, and 2) as you say, calling a material you are actively mining ‘unobtanium’ is stupid. However, I don’t think it’s any more or less stupid than your suggested alternative courses of action given the context of the plot.

    If unobtanium had ANY relevance to the story beyond “this is the source of conflict”, I’d wish for more juice there. But Cameron is nothing if not a functional screenwriter. No matter how much lipstick you put on the pig, the sole purpose of the scene is to telegraph the third act conflict (and allegorize the Iraq War, to some extent, but he does more with that elsewhere). The screenplay spends only bare minimum amount of time covering that detail before speeding along to more relevant thematic matters.

    So, I agree that it’s a dumb contrivance that is clunky. However, it’s just so irrelevant that I don’t care. Call it whatever you want to, the name, like the material itself, is completely inconsequential. Frankly, I’m actually warming to the idea of calling it MacGuffinite. Put a line in that it was named after the first marine to die on Pandora or some such bs. Have your cake and eat it too, a plausible in-universe name, and a tell to not think about it so much.


  • Well, I’ll start by disagreeing with the premise that an “objectively poor” artistic choice exists, at least in this context. There are choices that work for you and choices that don’t, but neither are objective. The name unobtanium was chosen because it represents a hypothetical substance that is everything that Cameron needed it to be to tell his story in a single word. He’s practically telling the audience, “look, guys, don’t think about it that hard, I’m speeding through the set-up because I know everyone is here to look at pretty shit in 3d”.

    In another story, one where the specific properties of unobtanium were in any way relevant (beyond being valuable), that sort of handwavey shorthand might perturb me. However, as it stands within the context of the film, it’s fine. It’s functional screenwriting, and that, to me, is a hallmark of Cameron’s style.

    Also, I’m not suggesting unobtanium was a placeholder for Cameron. I’m saying that it doesn’t necessarily strain my credulity to believe that, if scientists are pre-conditioned to refer to a hypothetical wonder material as unobtanium, and then they actually discover a wonder material, they might continue referring to it as such. Or, if not scientists, at least corporate ghouls like Ribisi who probably can’t pronounce the “official” name, if one exists.


  • Per the internet, so grain of salt and all, unobtanium predates Avatar by some time, typically used as a brainstorming device. You know how a physics problem might say “assume a frictionless environment” or something of that nature, in order to focus on a specific point or phenomena? Unobtanium is sort of like that. Picture a bunch of aerospace engineers in the mid-50s, talking about how they’re gonna put a person in space. They’re throwing all their spaghetti against the wall, hoping some of it will stick. One guy stands up and says, according to his calculations, if they can get the mass of the launch vehicle down to X, he’s confident they can do the thing. Unfortunately, material science being what it is at the time, there is nothing that would be light, strong, cheap, and workable enough to fashion such a vehicle, but the math all checks out. These engineers jokingly start referring to the hypothetical material that would satisfy all their needs as “unobtanium”, while they search for practical solutions.

    Fast forward 60 years, and Cameron is writing his Pocahontas in Space movie. He needs a name for his MacGuffin, but, being a MacGuffin, it’s entirely irrelevant to the plot outside of the fact that the characters are destined to fight over it. So, he decides to call it unobtanium, since that’s pre-existing shorthand for “rare material that does everything you need it to”, and that’s literally all this material needs to be for the plot.

    It’s still silly, sure, but no more or less silly than mechs fighting giant blue people that fuck via ponytail sounding.