[Image transcription] Three veterinarians in green scrubs manhandle a fluffy white Alpaca in a dark wood-paneled room, a fourth person in a floppy bucket hat assists. It is not clear by the image, but the Alpaca is perfectly safe, being prepared for in vitro fertilization. [end]

[Image transcription] A long haired orange and white cat stands out against a background of military-style bags and silver insulation. Below the cat, acting as the cat's bed, a young Caucasian man with a dredlock hairstyle sleeps curled up on his side in fetal position on black insulation mats. He is wearing military-issue clothing. The scene is peaceful. [end transcription]

RIP, Ukrainian poet and soldier, Maksym Kryvtsov (and his beloved cat), killed in action defending Ukraine.

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[ A man in a brown monk's habit leans down to pet a friendly orange cat in a bucolic monastic landscape that includes gardens and medieval-looking buildings. The man, who is on the right, leans heavily on a walking stick, his chocolate brown monk's habit is tied at the waist with a rope. His salt-and-pepper grey hair is cut in a typical modern men's style rather than a monk's tonsure. He is smiling in delight as the orange cat to the side props it's front paws halfway up the walking stick to get closer to the monk's hand which is cradling the cat's head and neck, mid-scratch. The ground below them is of mottled green, rather scrubby mixed grasses. Behind the small hill they're on, we can see a very tidy, rather large vegetable and herb garden stretching into the distance. Behind that, a short stone wall and a large multi-story grey building that is at least over a hundred years old, probably more. Farther beyond still, gentle hills look blue against the horizon, and graceful pine trees stretch towards the sky.]

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[ A pale woman with a tight hair bun and glasses sits at a dining room table, her hands folded in her lap, with a laptop open in front of her. The bright sunlight from the window immediately to the left bathes her in the cold sunlight of early morning. On the table in front of her, difficult to make out in the over-exposed area of the photo, are a can of soda and a notebook. She is dressed in an oversized pale green knitted cardigan and a dark purple turtleneck shirt, and what appears at first to be an exquisitely decorated yellow brocade skirt with fringe trim is, upon closer inspection, a blanket she has draped over her lap for warmth. It is simply an optical illusion that she is wearing some kind of grandiose ballgown; An illusion heightened by a long light blue jacket hung over the chair she is sitting on that looks something like a bustle. The room she is sitting in has warm-hued walls and a tile floor to match, giving it a vaguely historic vibe. ]

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[ A young woman behind a cafe bar carefully pours frothed milk from a small stainless steel pitcher into a sturdy teacup. The woman’s dark hair is pulled back and out of her face with a grey pinstripe kerchief , secure in place with black hairclips, giving her a folksy look that initially seems at odds with the trendy decor of the shop. It’s all exposed joists, Edison-style bulbs, slick stainless steel, severe white paint with a dark reclaimed wood floor, but the rest of her outfit (a typical all-black waitress wardrobe with a black half-apron and a shirt that has three-quarter length sleeves that highlight toned forearms from carrying trays all day) speak very much to her kerchief being a practical and stylish alternative to a hairnet. The hand that is closest to us rests lightly on the counter, her delicate fingers splayed, a men’s style wristwatch sits halfway up her forearm. In front of her are stacks of saucers that match the standard color and sturdy thickness of the cup she is filling. There are some faint geometric discolorations visible across the entire photo because we are looking in from a window that is partially reflecting the building behind the camera. The photographer’s reflection cannot be seen; Either a fortuitous coincidence or (more likely) a conscious choice on the part of a skilled photographer to conceal themselves in a shadow to make the photo more immersive for the viewer. ]

Image Transcription:

[ What initially appears to be a painting of a rotund chef in a traditional uniform, mounted in an ornate gold frame and hanging on the wall is-- Upon closer inspection-- a window into a real life kitchen. The optical illusion is helped somewhat by the stark difference in lighting; the chef and the kitchen are under cool-toned florescent or LED lights, while the room where we sit is illuminated in soft warm lighting with darker stucco walls, creating the illusion that the kitchen scene is a sun-faded painting. The chef himself wears a double-breasted white chef's jacket with sleeves that are deeply creased from being pushed up habitually. The buttons strain against his considerable bulk and the toque sits on his brow snugly. His pale face is creased in concentration as he tips a fry basket into a pan and a cloud of steam billows upwards. A clear squeeze bottle of oil sits at his elbow and various metal handles and kitchen appliances clutter the sleek industrial kitchen. The bottom of the "frame" is a shelf, suggesting that this is less of a fine dining situation and more of a fast-casual restaurant where management installed the window to get food out as fast as possible to customers. ]

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[ A young, dark-skinned woman softly kisses a dark-skinned infant in her arms, the infant gazes upwards, transfixed by the sunlight weakly spilling into bedroom where they sit. The child is wrapped in pale grey clothes and a white swaddling blanket and their face is inscrutable as they stare ope-mouthed into the soft that that just barely illuminates the room that is fitted with heavy green curtains and a tidy bed with white and off-white flower patterned linens. The woman herself has a facial expression of dignified serenity and she raises the child in her arms to her lips, softly kissing the baby on their cheek. She wears a loosely knitted dark red knitted beanie over her natural hair, a and a russet-colored men's shirt over a batik printed indigo-and-white traditional dress. The presence of belongings stuffed into plastic bags tucked behind the bed suggests that this may be a refugee or evacuation situation instead of the serene and comfortable bedroom it initially appeared to be. ]

Got this message this morning, they seem to be able to see us when logged out, but can't interact once logged in. :(

Image Transcription:

[ The round, age-worn face of a middle-aged man emerges from pitch black darkness, with lighting reminiscent of the works of Raphael. The soft focus and neck-up cropping makes his skin look almost luminous against the deep shadows behind him and his mouth is pulled into a slight grimace. His large, grey-blue eyes seem to look past as rather than at us; They are framed by messy and sparse eyebrows and deep bags beneath his eyes. His thick moustache and goatee bisect his face and call attention to a strong, slightly cleft chin. His hair falls in tight reddish brown, close-cropped ringlets around his face, they shine here and there in the lighting. His light blue-grey turtleneck sweater is visible beneath the pure inky black of his jacket that melts into the darkness behind him. The overall effect is one of a working class man caught in surprise rather than a formal portrait sitting. ]

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[ A bearded man in profile fills a dark-colored glass jug with pale beer which foams out the opening. The sun shines on the man's pale grey beanie which is pulled down low over his brow, covering his hair entirely, save for a small tuft of deep brown hair at the nape of his wide sturdy neck. His face is obscured in shadow and the lower half of his face is completely covered by a very fluffy but well-groomed beard. The sunlight casts crisp shadows on the ropey muscles in the man's forearms, softened only by a light fuzz of body hair that blends in with his pale skin. He wears a dark purple t-shirt and a number of beaded necklaces made of natural materials. In front of him, to either side, are rows and rows of clear pint glasses glinting in the low-angled sunlight and here and there in the background the sunlight catches metallic surfaces albeit fuzzy and out of focus-- A bright shiny copper tank, a steel tank with a surface that seems old and pitted, shiny rivets in trendy mis-aligned rusted tiles, the tap dispenser which has intentionally amateurish welding to create a more handmade aesthetic. There is something cloyingly artificial and hipsterish about the decor. A very mundane-looking large-diameter white PVC pipe snakes off over his head and off to one side, somewhat spoiling the faux antique look of the place, but it's one of the few clues that this is perhaps a real working brewery and not merely a theme bar aping the style of a brewery. ]

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.blahaj.zone/post/917201

> Image Transcription: > > [ A large table laid with rustic-looking breads and an ornate tea set is interrupted by the unexpected presence of a curious cat. The table covered with an undyed rough canvas-like table cloth and upon it lays broken pieces of fine white bread torn from unusually-shaped loaves in the background: Wide, flat, and disk-like but absolutely massive, as wide as seat cushions. They have decorative stamped impressions on them of saucer-sized spirals, making them look quite fancy. Some bread chunks are on a plate that matches the fancy tea set, other chunks rest directly on the cream-colored tablecloth in the foreground. There are two teacups, partially filled with tea, with their matching teapot slightly farther away from us. It is white porcelain with large gold flourishes painted on it with smaller black details-- An oddly expensive looking detail when compared to the rustic look of the room with uneven mud-colored stucco walls that are bare save for a window where blindingly bright morning light pours in, with rustic-looking clutter on the windowsill and the faint outline of a door on the opposite side. Surveying the scene is a white cat with black spots, it’s front paws cheekily resting on the tablecloth so we can only see it’s head, chest and paws peeking up from it’s hiding place. It’s expression seems unimpressed by the grand spread of food, but one paw is stretched slightly forward and tensed, and it’s eyes are fixated on the bread loaves, leaving the distinct impression that the cat does not intend to remain a passive observer much longer. ] >

Image Transcription:

[ A large table laid with rustic-looking breads and an ornate tea set is interrupted by the unexpected presence of a curious cat. The table covered with an undyed rough canvas-like table cloth and upon it lays broken pieces of fine white bread torn from unusually-shaped loaves in the background: Wide, flat, and disk-like but absolutely massive, as wide as seat cushions. They have decorative stamped impressions on them of saucer-sized spirals, making them look quite fancy. Some bread chunks are on a plate that matches the fancy tea set, other chunks rest directly on the cream-colored tablecloth in the foreground. There are two teacups, partially filled with tea, with their matching teapot slightly farther away from us. It is white porcelain with large gold flourishes painted on it with smaller black details-- An oddly expensive looking detail when compared to the rustic look of the room with uneven mud-colored stucco walls that are bare save for a window where blindingly bright morning light pours in, with rustic-looking clutter on the windowsill and the faint outline of a door on the opposite side. Surveying the scene is a white cat with black spots, it’s front paws cheekily resting on the tablecloth so we can only see it’s head, chest and paws peeking up from it’s hiding place. It’s expression seems unimpressed by the grand spread of food, but one paw is stretched slightly forward and tensed, and it’s eyes are fixated on the bread loaves, leaving the distinct impression that the cat does not intend to remain a passive observer much longer. ]

Image transcription for the visually impaired:

[ A pale horse rears upwards. It has a cream-colored mane and is outfitted in highly ornamented riding gear in black, orange, and green. The horse's head is flung back dramatically, it's mouth grimacing against the bit in it's mouth, it's dirty yellow teeth bared. The bottom half of the horse is obscured by a tight-pressed crowd of casually-dressed people, their hands reaching towards the panicking animal, creating a sunburst-like effect, or perhaps like the foam of a crashing wave. It's long mane flies wildly in the breeze as it emerges from the sea of people around it. The sun beats down harshly in the foreground and most people in the crowd are wearing short sleeves that reveal suntanned arms, sunglasses and hats can be spotted in the crowd, in the very front people seem oblivious to the panicking animal, creating a sense of unease about how the next few moments will unfold. In the background, the tightly-packed crowd is cast in deep shade, pressed against a dirty and mildewed stucco wall, creating a pleasing contrast to the brilliant white form of the horse but also creates a sense of claustrophobia because it is not immediately apparent where people would escape to if the situation is not handled correctly. Barely visible to one side is a formally-pressed man in a black suit with a traditional riding helmet, he does not seem panicked. You can also barely see that the ride on the horse's back has not fallen off, their foot is still in the stirrup, suggesting this is all a part of some elaborate show and no one is in actual danger after all. ]

We got over a thousand subscribers overnight, and it's still rising. I'm not going to complain because yay numbers go brrrrrrr, but our most popular post only has 370 upvotes so is it a glitch?

Hi!

So I put in my username, my password, I watch the bright red login button go spinny for a couple moments, and then I get this screen, where it tells me I am Schrodinger's Logged In. Logged in, but also not logged in.

It seems to work in Chrome, but I very much prefer using Firefox for privacy reasons. :)

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[ A young and handsome man, with a reddish beard and long blond hair sleeps on a couch, wrapped in a green blanket. At first the photo appears as if he is standing with his eyes closed, saint-like, but closer inspection reveals that is is in fact napping on a grey sofa and the photographer snapped this photo by holding the camera above him. His form is almost entirely obscured by the deep folds of the green blanket, the only parts of the man which are visible is his face, a few fly-away strands of long blond hair escaping the place where the blanket has formed a hood, his reddish beard, and his bent left arm which rests in a loose fist on his chest. The lighting is soft and the scene feels vaguely religious, reminiscent of paintings showing a dead Christ before resurrection. ]

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[ A chaotic scene unravels as a dozen or more people sit, kneel, and lay down in a room that has been waterproofed with clear plastic tarp over a white and deep-red background. Tomatoes, tomato skins, and tomato pulp fly freely in every direction as attendees attempt to cover their eyes or flinch as tomato flies into their faces. Simultaneously, many try to fling tomatoes back. Most appear to be laughing with glee, though some appear to be taking their facefulls of tomato with a calm resignation. Everything is in soft focus and tinged with pastel hues. Everyone's white clothes are tinged slightly orange from the pulp as the cloth clings wetly to their skin, their hair matted to their heads-- There is hardly a single inch of the scene that does not contain some smear of tomato innards or a sticky tomato seed or two. Highlights of the image include a man on the right wearing a tall chef's hat hands upraised to shield his face as he twists away from us. A skinny young man wearing a red bandana on his head lounges with his bony legs facing us at the center of the picture, his face twisted into a puckered grin. Beside him kneels a young woman wearing a black halter top, her face obscured by wet locks of dark messy hair. Towards the back, a woman wearing a very large floppy red hat appears to be having tomato innards smooshed into her colorful headgear by a man who might be entirely nude, though the details are obscured by the chaos of the scene and the orangey, fleshy tint of everyone's formerly pristine white clothing. ]

[ a man faces away from the viewer, hands on his hips, while in the foreground burlap bags full of onions are heaped high, the interior looks very old and is made primarily of wood ]