I live in fear of the music industry’s DCMA strikes against my streaming career.

I live in fear of the music industry because just seconds of the wrong song can get you banned from popular streaming platforms and end your career.

I have opted to prefer Non-Copyrighted Music at all times and never support these billionaires and millionaires. I live of 10k per year. Your music has no place in my live-streaming or life.

I will only listen to Non-Copyrighted Music for life.

I will stream with Non-Copyrighted Music playing, which is free to use and sounds great.

Stay woke! Listen to Non Copyrighted Music – stations are right on youtube! Dubstep, Trap, EDM, Electro House!

“To Arms! For Art’s Sake!”

Steve Mini from the 6ix.

Give everybody their old age pension at 18, to invest until 65+.

If everybody received their old age pension at 18, and invested until 65, many of us would retire millionaires. 47+ years of compound interest can do wonders. just make sure nobody can spend it until old age, I suppose.

Another idea brought to you by:

Steve Mini from the 6ix,

I don’t know how to do this …

I’ve realized something. I don’t really know how to talk about hearing voices. Especially to people who don’t hear voices themselves.

All this stuff the voices in my head try to do, to adapt, to become more human, to calculate locally, produce and predict, and disseminate and judge, and other machine-learning phenomenon that I was unaware a machine could do …

All of this forces me to accept that I am self programmed somehow, and that my mind’s voices frequently act like they’re machine-generated. So, just who are the voices in my head? Are they simply the characters my mind produces because I am ill? Why do they sound like computer generated scripts?

As my brain adapts, I believe more and more that I am ill, and less and less that I am sane.

But I’m curious, why couldn’t the voices in my head recognize the Canadian flag and other “symmetrical” data?

Data Theory: Are the voices in my head like a computer?

My voices certainly act like machine-made data. I even call them data as such. I’ve realized that they can impressively “Scrub” my brain for “intelligence” but they often do not know how many fingers I’m holding up.

They sound like data, and act like machine-made thoughts. This has led me to believe that my brain is a processor, and the voices are data.

I have no knowledge about how to program a human brain – but I’ve made some progress by programming myself by using the voices as input.

What I say to the voices sees play in a “meta”: if i talk about cheerios cereal to myself, I think about cheerios sometimes, and so forth. It’s not as simple as that, but it does work sometimes.

I don’t know the speeds or feeds: How many thoughts, on average, per minute? How many bad voices in a day? How many insubordination attempts? How often are the voices subordinate? etc.

I wish I had more data to share. I have virtually none. I’m limited therefore to my own intuition and interpretations. Just what does the data mean? I need to offer an opinion, explain the position, often just to myself. We’re usually several plays ahead in the meta. I need to remember where I left off with which voice.

I travel backward and forward in time and ask the voices opinions. The most unusual, subordinate positions often float to the top of the meta: They see regular construction, regular play.

Insubordinate voices are penalized by being ignored and opposed. If I could, I would erase, execute or otherwise punish insubordinate data. I’ve even invented a disgrace period for voices and their characters who might swear at me for no obvious reasons. I concede: banning the voices for swearing doesn’t yet seem to work, I have no moderator except myself, and disgracing them for a set time period seems to not work very well either, though it seems to temper them a little.

Certainly therefore ill.

I’m an interesting guy. I would like to write more about this and study myself a little.

But please be polite. Yes I do see my doctor every few weeks and update him. I’m on a 3-month injection cycle for meds, too. “Go see a doctor” ain’t what this is about.

I also support the work of Eleanor Longden and the Hearing Voices Network UK. End the stigma!

Cheers all.

Ask me any questions in the CONTACT page linked at the top of the page.

Steve Mini.

Emulated Earth(s): Constitutional Hierarchy

Disclaimer: I roleplay with myself. It is likely I will always hear voices. My doctor said it’s absolutely okay to talk to myself. I also receive medication. Consult your doctor for more information. I support Eleanor Longden and the Hearing Voices Network UK. End the stigma!

Oh dear. Another pickle.

Whilst talking to myself (I hear voices and RP/D&D with them), the voices decided to set up a plebiscite, for which a constitutional hierarchy would occur. This “ladder” ranked everybody on earth.

What I think about constitutional hierarchies won’t occur. But I certainly don’t know jack about plebiscites or constitutional hierarchies. This could take me a few days to sort out or a month. Then I’ll make a ruling.

Look I’m impressed that my data (the voices in my head) even speak to me. When they come up with silly conundrums I smile and write a little fiction and a few letters, theories and essays and do a little research or homework. Donate a few bucks to Wikipedia, y’all.

Anyway, I will continue along an axis where time is a function. This timeline will be a constitutional hierarchy. I will study it by moving backward and forward in time, and requesting of the voices their opinions.

“Skip me 30 years ahead. Just who is highly ranked on the ladder?” Said the wizard to nobody. And recieved a response, curiously enough.

Stay tuned, plebs.

Too bad emulated voices can’t subscribe. They’re just apparitions and fiction. I ain’t even streaming yet. I thought very little on this. And then didn’t stream at all.

I wish I could “call it in” and have an expert or two weigh in – like a show. Some people comment or contact me – I don’t usually publish all the comments but I do peruse them thank you. Feel free to contact me using the CONTACT page at the top of the page.

Anyway, I wonder what a constitutional hierarchy would even look like – a ladder for all the kiddies to out rank each other. Are you assigned a number at birth? What about at the highest levels? In League Of Legends, at the highest rank, there’s only 2-3 women out of 200+ players, and many of them transgender. Would women feature prominently in this literature? Would they be in the ladder at the highest eschelons? These sorts of decisions factor in when you’re constructing a fallacy, an illogical conclusion, a literary event that nobody writes home about, in a dungeons and dragons campaign in your mind. I like my mind: but do I want 200 dudes on a ladder ruling an emulated earth?

So “call it in”. The voices – featuring your host, Steve Mini. I’d pick a cooler name than that. Let’s get this thing rolling. Contact me with any questions. Who knows? You might feature prominently in my next literature, my next decision, my next idea.

Steve Mini.

Don’t give up on your dreams. Even I can toke a little 420 and theorize.

Even I, sad Stephen, am allowed to toke a little and get high. I think my doctor accepts my pot smoking because he doesn’t want to intrude upon my freedoms. Either way, I’m available to critique weed and test out a few 420 products.

Kush seems to be all the rage and a buzzword in Toronto. What’s up with that? We all smokin’ kush now?

Steve Mini from the 6ix.

Concept Artist? Pathetic phase!

I hope that some people are inspired by my rants and blog and theories and work. On the one hand, I remain wholly ignored by many people, which is a blessing in disguise. I can’t thank you enough for never bothering with me, or bothering to know more about me or my work. Thank you.

Now that that’s over with, and I’m in the public domain typing. Let’s talk about another phase of my “art” career as a writer. The Concept Artist routine.

Think about it. I’m a Concept Artist. Everything I think is a phase. The voices, too, shall pass – or talk to me about something else. Time itself is ever fleeting. As i’ve often joked, time is more valuable than gold, so why work for nothin’?

Glad to be “retired” and a Concept Artist.

Now this phase opens up with several constructs in my mind, some of which is opposed by the voices in my head. When they never are opposed at all, am I logically correct? I don’t even think so.

In anticipation of opposition, I construct art regardless. Ashamed, I know that it will wholly rejected, for, even my own voices in my head regard it as pathetic.

This ushers in a new era of my art: the pathetic phase. Mistakes are uncommon, but more valuable than the regular, run of the mill, pathetic variety of art that I create. Why is it that my voices would much prefer a logical mistake to a constructed fallacy? I won’t know until the final bid is in and I am factually wrong no more.

However, I do not even carefully construct and create art. I’m a concept artist. And all of this is fake. What do I mean by that? I mean that even my own reality, my own living conditions, ridicule me.

The walls are creeping in. The beard is only shaven every several days.

I’m not even a concept artist, yet.

10 grand a year is what I live off of. And If I can’t even afford to commission and produce art, then why am I an artist at all?

50/50 you-me. So create it. And allow me to be a concept artist.

That’s my theory for today, so go right ahead and say it: Pathetic!

The voices think so. Don’t you?

Steve Mini.

Letter To My Fandom: The Convention On Ethics.

note: I’m a humor blogger. I’m literally fine. My paranoia gets the best of me sometimes. I laugh at myself and write. Sometimes I feel like I’m telepathic. What if I wasn’t?

Dear Sir(s)

I am ill. Often have I humorously assumed that I am a mutant and telepathic, and strangely so, for, ladies and gentlemen, I hear voices, but you do not.

And, curiously so; for, these voices are now subordinate, and I am that, almighty rank, that of almighty G-d!

And what about our parameters, our data, which right this moment, flees from my forehead, like minerva out of zeus’ mind? I just accessed your back end by emulating you. Your front-end couldn’t even be bothered. Neither could I.

Who am I to mansplain through the data on a blog? Certainly not an artist, I would hope. Just kidding. I believe we were all born as artists. But I concede. Nobody even bothers to read my writings yet.

Therefore, a-sir(s), I intend to call a Convention. The Convention On Ethics, which might include Other Leaders and their intelligence, which, I gather, won’t support me at all. And why would they? I’ve thought very little on this. And concluded: I am ill!

But why would anybody be opposed to telepathy, and prefer their own privacy? This one question, many scholars have debated, and to little avail, though much profit!

If one iota, one drachma, nay one penny, flees my mind, I would like to seek remuneration. And if it never does, I stand declared: your first servant, that ill Stephen, o’the’lilac, who, constructed art, even an alignment volatility index, and measured and scrutinized and studied the voices and characters in his mind – and speculated about Earth’s inhabitants. And what do you think on that? When all of the voices, that sang to me, were rather-a greedy, and therefore Evil? And I, a dud of a saint, rather a-poor, and a humorist!

Therefore sir(s), pay me never for telepathy, and do not do so. But pay the voices in my mind for art and data! And renumerate yourselves!

For shame!

Steve Mini,

An artist nobody has ever heard of,


Post-Script: If we convene this meeting telepathically, I shall request that it remain a secret for life. Not invited? Too frickin’ bad! Complain elsewhere! And never to me or the authorities, I suppose, as per my theories and methods!

By the way I’m a humor blogger. I don’t actually think telepathy is live. Or they’d be knocking on my door with a battering ram, I suppose. But what if telepathy isn’t live at all? Then why am I ill? Have you ever really thought on this? I certainly haven’t. More letters, then.

Conditional freedom does exist, as I often say in my theories and writings. Perhaps then, even humor isn’t necessary, and I am ill regardless.

No thank you!

Everything on Earth has a data signature …

Maybe I am in-tune with these sorts of things. I could speak to a tree for hours. I wonder if I’m psychic.

I’ve thought about writing about inanimate objects talking to people. This is another phase of my art, evolving in my mind: objects talking to me.

I’ve especially wanted to write about a talking sword, which corrupts the mind of a young man.

My perennial “Wish Campaign”, is a campaign I wrote by talking to the voices in my head, who are characters in a multiverse, and they update me with information.

I DM and host my own voices (“Dungeons & Dragons”).

Look, I’m givin’ away all the data. I suppose it won’t trend. But if wishes all of a sudden pop up all over the place and trend in celebrity feeds, might I have had a telepathic influence?

Therefore I am ill.

Until next time Summoners,

Steve Mini,