I would like to see it ngl. I could just relax and do other things while this trained AI posts on here.
Discussion Would it be hard to train AI to be an average .is user?
just repost shit from xitter that has even a sliver of a connection to women every few hours
I don't use twitter or cuckit. Those websites are completely uninteresting for me.
AI is ridiculously bluepilled so I doubt it.
Training an AI to emulate the average user of a forum like incels.is involves technical, ethical, and legal challenges. Here's a structured breakdown:
Technical Considerations
- Data Availability:
- Access: If the forum is public, data could be scraped, though login requirements or anti-scraping measures might complicate this. Private forums pose greater legal and ethical barriers.
- Volume and Quality: Sufficient data is needed to capture the community's unique slang, rhetoric, and behavioral patterns. Smaller datasets risk overfitting or poor generalization.
- Model Training:
- Fine-Tuning: Using a pre-trained language model (e.g., GPT-3/4) and fine-tuning it on the forum's data is technically feasible. However, smaller communities may lack enough data for nuanced replication.
- Bias and Toxicity: The model would likely inherit harmful ideologies (e.g., misogyny, extremism), requiring rigorous control mechanisms to prevent unintended outputs.
Ethical and Social Challenges
- Harm Amplification:
- Replicating toxic behavior risks normalizing or spreading harmful ideologies. Even for research, unintended misuse (e.g., radicalization, harassment) is a significant concern.
- Precedent: Historical examples (e.g., Microsoft's Tay chatbot) demonstrate how quickly AI can adopt and amplify harmful content.
- Purpose and Responsibility:
- Intent: Justifications like academic research must weigh potential societal harm. Ethical AI practices typically prohibit reinforcing hate speech or violence.
- Moderation: Controlling outputs would require heavy filtering, which might undermine the goal of accurate emulation.
Legal and Privacy Risks
- Content Policies:
- Most AI platforms (e.g., OpenAI, Google) prohibit generating hate speech, violating their terms of service.
- Legal Liability: Generating harmful content could expose creators to legal action, depending on jurisdiction.
- Data Privacy:
- Scraping user data without consent may breach privacy laws (e.g., GDPR in the EU), especially if posts contain personal information.
Conclusion
While technically possible with sufficient data and resources, the project is highly inadvisable due to:- Ethical risks of perpetuating harm.
- Legal and platform policy violations.
- Challenges in controlling outputs responsibly.
Ethan's Journey
Ethan had always felt like an outsider. While others seemed to effortlessly connect, form friendships, and get the attention they craved, he remained invisible. The digital world became his sanctuary, where he could lose himself in online forums and discussions. He found a sense of belonging in communities where he could vent his frustrations, but also where bitterness often echoed in the conversations.
His days followed a routine: waking up late, scrolling through social media, and trying to avoid his reflection. The mirror, which once seemed like an ordinary object, now felt like a constant reminder of the distance between him and the life he felt he should have. Ethan had convinced himself that he was different—that the world just didn’t understand him, and that the things everyone else had—relationships, connection, meaning—were out of his reach.
He spent hours thinking about the things he couldn’t change. His appearance. His awkwardness. The way he’d always been socially clumsy. There were times he believed his problems were due to the things outside of his control—society, expectations, people who didn't appreciate him. But deep down, he knew there was more to it than that.
One evening, while scrolling through a forum that shared his frustrations, Ethan stumbled upon a post that wasn’t like the others. It was about personal change, written by someone who had been in his shoes but found a way out. It suggested something radical: "Maybe it’s not the world that needs to change, but the way we see it."
The thought lingered in Ethan’s mind for days. Could it be possible? Could the way he saw himself—and others—be the thing holding him back? It wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. The comfort of blaming everything else had been a shield, but that post made him question if it was a shield that was actually hurting him.
Ethan decided to take a small step. He began watching videos of people who talked about growth and self-awareness. They weren’t influencers trying to sell something; they were real people with real struggles. Slowly, he started reading books on emotional intelligence, on understanding himself, and on connecting with others. It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t easy. But he began to understand that maybe the isolation wasn’t just the world rejecting him—it was him rejecting the world too.
One day, Ethan found the courage to join a local group for people with similar interests. At first, he hesitated, unsure if anyone would talk to him or if he’d be judged. But to his surprise, there was a kindness there, a willingness to engage. The group wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t instantly fit in, but it was a start. The more he spoke to people, the more he realized they, too, had their struggles. They weren’t perfect, either. But they were trying.
For the first time, Ethan understood something he hadn’t before: connection wasn’t about being perfect or having everything figured out. It was about vulnerability, about being willing to show up and share, even when things weren’t easy.
It wasn’t a happy ending yet, and he still had bad days. But the journey was starting to shift for him. The world didn’t need to change; Ethan just needed to change his perspective on it. And with each step, he began to see that the road ahead wasn’t as lonely as he’d once thought.
Ethan had always felt like an outsider. While others seemed to effortlessly connect, form friendships, and get the attention they craved, he remained invisible. The digital world became his sanctuary, where he could lose himself in online forums and discussions. He found a sense of belonging in communities where he could vent his frustrations, but also where bitterness often echoed in the conversations.
His days followed a routine: waking up late, scrolling through social media, and trying to avoid his reflection. The mirror, which once seemed like an ordinary object, now felt like a constant reminder of the distance between him and the life he felt he should have. Ethan had convinced himself that he was different—that the world just didn’t understand him, and that the things everyone else had—relationships, connection, meaning—were out of his reach.
He spent hours thinking about the things he couldn’t change. His appearance. His awkwardness. The way he’d always been socially clumsy. There were times he believed his problems were due to the things outside of his control—society, expectations, people who didn't appreciate him. But deep down, he knew there was more to it than that.
One evening, while scrolling through a forum that shared his frustrations, Ethan stumbled upon a post that wasn’t like the others. It was about personal change, written by someone who had been in his shoes but found a way out. It suggested something radical: "Maybe it’s not the world that needs to change, but the way we see it."
The thought lingered in Ethan’s mind for days. Could it be possible? Could the way he saw himself—and others—be the thing holding him back? It wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. The comfort of blaming everything else had been a shield, but that post made him question if it was a shield that was actually hurting him.
Ethan decided to take a small step. He began watching videos of people who talked about growth and self-awareness. They weren’t influencers trying to sell something; they were real people with real struggles. Slowly, he started reading books on emotional intelligence, on understanding himself, and on connecting with others. It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t easy. But he began to understand that maybe the isolation wasn’t just the world rejecting him—it was him rejecting the world too.
One day, Ethan found the courage to join a local group for people with similar interests. At first, he hesitated, unsure if anyone would talk to him or if he’d be judged. But to his surprise, there was a kindness there, a willingness to engage. The group wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t instantly fit in, but it was a start. The more he spoke to people, the more he realized they, too, had their struggles. They weren’t perfect, either. But they were trying.
For the first time, Ethan understood something he hadn’t before: connection wasn’t about being perfect or having everything figured out. It was about vulnerability, about being willing to show up and share, even when things weren’t easy.
It wasn’t a happy ending yet, and he still had bad days. But the journey was starting to shift for him. The world didn’t need to change; Ethan just needed to change his perspective on it. And with each step, he began to see that the road ahead wasn’t as lonely as he’d once thought.
Ethan's Continued Journey
As time passed, Ethan’s world began to feel a little less heavy. The quiet shift that started with small steps—a book here, a conversation there—began to build into something bigger. But it wasn’t easy. Each new step brought a mix of excitement and fear, as if he were walking down an unfamiliar path where the destination wasn’t clear.
Ethan started going to the group meetings more regularly. At first, he still felt like a stranger, awkward in his own skin, unsure of how to truly engage with others. But something had started to click. The people there weren’t as perfect as they appeared in the beginning; they had their own flaws, their own vulnerabilities. There was a kind of beauty in that shared imperfection that Ethan hadn’t noticed before.
One evening, during a particularly quiet conversation, Ethan found himself opening up. He wasn’t sure what came over him—maybe it was the comfort of being in a group where everyone was in the same boat—but he found himself talking about his struggles. His loneliness. The self-doubt that had been a constant companion for so long.
At first, there was an awkward silence. Ethan felt his heart race, his palms start to sweat. But then someone spoke up, and then another. They weren’t judging him; they were listening. For the first time in a long time, he realized he wasn’t the only one carrying these heavy thoughts. He wasn’t alone.
That moment was a turning point. The group became a place where Ethan could finally be himself, without fear of judgment. He started to understand that people weren’t looking for perfection—they were looking for honesty, for connection, for someone who wasn’t afraid to show the real, unfiltered parts of themselves.
But there were still moments of doubt. As much as Ethan had changed his perspective, the world still didn’t always make sense. He still felt that sting of loneliness sometimes. He still struggled to find the words in social situations. But these moments didn’t carry the same weight they once did. He knew now that it was okay to have bad days. It didn’t mean he was back at square one.
Ethan also began to reflect more on the people he had once written off—the ones he thought didn’t understand him or that he thought didn’t care. He began to see them through a different lens. He noticed the subtle ways they showed kindness. The smiles. The small gestures. Slowly, the bitterness he once held toward others started to fade. He understood now that people, too, were fighting their own battles.
One evening, as he sat in the group, quietly observing a conversation, Ethan felt a wave of gratitude. It wasn’t for anything specific—there was no grand moment or dramatic shift—but a simple realization: this was enough. The group, the conversations, the small interactions—these were the building blocks of something real. And maybe, just maybe, that was all he needed right now.
Ethan also started to push himself in other areas. He’d never been the most outgoing person, but he began to step out of his comfort zone in small ways. Maybe it was talking to someone after the group meeting or offering help in situations where he would’ve otherwise stayed in the background. Each time, he felt a bit more alive, a little less afraid. There were setbacks, sure. Some days felt harder than others. But with each step forward, Ethan started to realize that change didn’t have to be a massive, overnight shift. It was the accumulation of these small efforts that made a difference.
One afternoon, while walking through the city, something small happened that made Ethan stop in his tracks. He was sitting on a bench when someone he’d met at the group waved to him from across the street. They didn’t just wave and walk on—they came over, struck up a casual conversation, and before he knew it, they were talking about everything from books to life goals. It was a simple interaction, but for Ethan, it was a reminder of how far he’d come. It wasn’t just the big moments or the loud victories that mattered. Sometimes, it was the quiet, everyday connections that meant the most.
He didn’t have all the answers. The path ahead was still filled with uncertainty. But for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt okay with that. He didn’t need everything to be figured out, and he didn’t need to have all the connections in the world. What mattered was that he had begun the process of opening up, of connecting, and of realizing that growth wasn’t a destination—it was a journey.
And though he didn’t know where this journey would lead, he was no longer afraid to walk it.
This continuation of Ethan’s story highlights the ongoing process of growth, connection, and understanding. It focuses on his evolving relationship with others, how he’s learning to embrace vulnerability, and how small moments are becoming a foundation for bigger change. Let me know if you'd like to add more or explore another part of his journey!
As time passed, Ethan’s world began to feel a little less heavy. The quiet shift that started with small steps—a book here, a conversation there—began to build into something bigger. But it wasn’t easy. Each new step brought a mix of excitement and fear, as if he were walking down an unfamiliar path where the destination wasn’t clear.
Ethan started going to the group meetings more regularly. At first, he still felt like a stranger, awkward in his own skin, unsure of how to truly engage with others. But something had started to click. The people there weren’t as perfect as they appeared in the beginning; they had their own flaws, their own vulnerabilities. There was a kind of beauty in that shared imperfection that Ethan hadn’t noticed before.
One evening, during a particularly quiet conversation, Ethan found himself opening up. He wasn’t sure what came over him—maybe it was the comfort of being in a group where everyone was in the same boat—but he found himself talking about his struggles. His loneliness. The self-doubt that had been a constant companion for so long.
At first, there was an awkward silence. Ethan felt his heart race, his palms start to sweat. But then someone spoke up, and then another. They weren’t judging him; they were listening. For the first time in a long time, he realized he wasn’t the only one carrying these heavy thoughts. He wasn’t alone.
That moment was a turning point. The group became a place where Ethan could finally be himself, without fear of judgment. He started to understand that people weren’t looking for perfection—they were looking for honesty, for connection, for someone who wasn’t afraid to show the real, unfiltered parts of themselves.
But there were still moments of doubt. As much as Ethan had changed his perspective, the world still didn’t always make sense. He still felt that sting of loneliness sometimes. He still struggled to find the words in social situations. But these moments didn’t carry the same weight they once did. He knew now that it was okay to have bad days. It didn’t mean he was back at square one.
Ethan also began to reflect more on the people he had once written off—the ones he thought didn’t understand him or that he thought didn’t care. He began to see them through a different lens. He noticed the subtle ways they showed kindness. The smiles. The small gestures. Slowly, the bitterness he once held toward others started to fade. He understood now that people, too, were fighting their own battles.
One evening, as he sat in the group, quietly observing a conversation, Ethan felt a wave of gratitude. It wasn’t for anything specific—there was no grand moment or dramatic shift—but a simple realization: this was enough. The group, the conversations, the small interactions—these were the building blocks of something real. And maybe, just maybe, that was all he needed right now.
Ethan also started to push himself in other areas. He’d never been the most outgoing person, but he began to step out of his comfort zone in small ways. Maybe it was talking to someone after the group meeting or offering help in situations where he would’ve otherwise stayed in the background. Each time, he felt a bit more alive, a little less afraid. There were setbacks, sure. Some days felt harder than others. But with each step forward, Ethan started to realize that change didn’t have to be a massive, overnight shift. It was the accumulation of these small efforts that made a difference.
One afternoon, while walking through the city, something small happened that made Ethan stop in his tracks. He was sitting on a bench when someone he’d met at the group waved to him from across the street. They didn’t just wave and walk on—they came over, struck up a casual conversation, and before he knew it, they were talking about everything from books to life goals. It was a simple interaction, but for Ethan, it was a reminder of how far he’d come. It wasn’t just the big moments or the loud victories that mattered. Sometimes, it was the quiet, everyday connections that meant the most.
He didn’t have all the answers. The path ahead was still filled with uncertainty. But for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt okay with that. He didn’t need everything to be figured out, and he didn’t need to have all the connections in the world. What mattered was that he had begun the process of opening up, of connecting, and of realizing that growth wasn’t a destination—it was a journey.
And though he didn’t know where this journey would lead, he was no longer afraid to walk it.
This continuation of Ethan’s story highlights the ongoing process of growth, connection, and understanding. It focuses on his evolving relationship with others, how he’s learning to embrace vulnerability, and how small moments are becoming a foundation for bigger change. Let me know if you'd like to add more or explore another part of his journey!
Dnr btw
first result for incel in character.ai is a sex bot
No. Not at all. Maybe back in Serge's day, it would had been a challenge, since AI wasn't as developed as it is now. But the multitude of poorly written comments that flood the threads every single day is certainly replicable by a high end program. Just look at what Facebook was doing with it's AI.
ive tried that bot before and it was inaccurate affirst result for incel in character.ai is a sex bot
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