Ludisposed is an encoded being. Their appearance lies in code. Their language is computer code. They are
resourceful, calculating, and competitive, but they can't exist outside the binary of 0 & 1. Ludisposed dreams
of freedom. They achieve this ideal through logic. "Lawolic", code" is law until it isn't. They carry a lock
picking set, but only for the sake of competition. Ludisposed thinks they're funny, amusing really. Their
qualities def. look fucking Cool to someone else.
Ludisposed is inseparable from Happie, the ~small~ pet computer they take with them everywhere they go.
Bastard Sugar aligns themselves with maker-god-of-chaos.
Their hair, skin and eyes are black. They gleam and glitter like a cosmic void. They always would wear baggy swim shorts, if they could. And why couldn't they when their principles are limitless? Bastard sugar values creativity. They copulate darkness, then light. They fornicate while flicking their fingers on their floating hands. They're nice, kind nice, nice 69. Bastard Sugar resides on a cloud. Although they seem to see a lonely galaxy, they are actually optimistic and instead form other galaxy groups or universes. They speak many tongues but rely on a sound wave fish for translation.
Bastard Sugar perceives to match all classifiers of an almighty *Shape Shifter. Yet, they are limited by the need for green buds.
Black Puma is a brave super ninja fighter who kickboxes and does MMA. Their ideal is to have power without limits. Black Puma is a winner by instinct. Their cause is to defend against war. This makes them lawful and also a bit chaotic, sometimes a tad scary. Black Puma hates falsehoods and would never stab someone in the back. Although they do carry a knife in their pocket, knives in their high heels and a handgun, sniper, land map, rope, sunglasses, high-speed gadget car, motor, phone and sneakers in their black handbag. They’re well prepared for anything. They convey badass-ness through a full round red mouth, in CAPSLOCK, emoji, # and in crypto-money! Black Puma’s light brown skin is painted with feathers and roses, decorated with jewellery and dressed in leather & feathers. Don’t misinterpret their toughness for indifference. Nor their hotness for heart-less-ness.
゜`ㄟ⏑o⏑✿)***.。-☆ slightly makes me think of a crossover between Jiggly Puff and the Love-a-Lot bear from
the Care Bears, but is otherwise hard to grasp. This means that they are often misunderstood. True
apprehension is, indeed, quite difficult when their essence can’t be captured, not even by themselves.
Honestly, is this even possible, for anyone, ever? What does it mean to be human? ゜`ㄟ⏑o⏑✿)***.。-☆ wouldn’t
know. It doesn’t matter, they’re cute. They will talk and talk and talk and talk.. and talk, not that it is
useful. But what in the world is useful? Certainly not trolls. Not hoomans. Oops! I’d be suspicious of their
ideals too. ゜`ㄟ⏑o⏑✿)***.。-☆’s good nature makes them look weak and a bit immature, but never judge a book by
its cover. Or an avatar by its appearance for that matter. ゜`ㄟ⏑o⏑✿)***.。-☆ appears as pencil colour 318
(pink) from artist quality. They accessorise kindness. They carry a switch (w/ animal crossing).
゜`ㄟ⏑o⏑✿)***.。-☆ would be lost without their moral compass and natural sense of intuition (but where the hell
did they acquire those?).
Paul is characterised by the congenital absence of melanin. Other than this particular attribute, and his red eyes and big ears, he looks average at first glance. If you’d look a bit closer you might notice how he twitches as he stands slightly unbalanced on his slippers, which makes it hard not to mention the spot where his missing toe once was. Let’s just say that he looks a little weird. It’s particularly eerie when he utters launch codes in HTML and PHP through his nuclear cell phone. Paul’s speech is overall a bit incoherent. If he’d talk to you in International Art English (IAE) you might think he’s a snob. If he’d talk to you with his hands & feet, you’d believe the rumours asserting he has stones in his brain. He’s tricky and this has never been confirmed! With Paul, it is always difficult to determine what is real and what is not real. Are unicorns real? No one really knows. Most fictional beasts originate from human fear, but the tattoo above Paul Withe’s ass indicates a soft and tender side. His alignment with “chaotic evil” implies some wholly different explanation. Paul’s caught in a 1-up loop, so he’ll never wither, nor perish. Another often-proved powerful asset is his panic button. As a matter of fact, we’re not quite sure what happens when the red button is indeed pressed. Greedy as Paul Withe is, he shares as little as possible.
Her long dark brown hair waves fiercely in the wind. Her green eyes are focused on the community she protects from injustice. Her Kim K. perfect nose is pointed to the greater good. Her mouth has a perfect cupid bow, and her full lips speak all languages. She wears a catsuit, pink heels and a crystal necklace that shimmers in the moonlight. The tattoos on the back of her neck and on her hands tell enigmatic tales. The scar along her eye and eyebrow is a remnant of her higher understanding of life. Truly, her beauty is a divine gift. The Black Godezz is very aligned with her rightful objectives. She’s a high vibrations momma. You will notice that others seek her presence all the time. The Black Godezz maintains her vibration high by having a specialised routine that she puts into practice every day. This entails that she masters multiple martial arts. The Black Godezz brings weapons in abundance. Guns and knives mostly. She always has what she needs, and more, such as a super gadget watch that allows her to read other people’s minds, freezes time and maps about everything. I wonder if she really needs that watch or that e-smoker, and sports car. But who am I to question her equipment when her look’s so fine, and uh, her intentions are so good?!
Gravetar ♰omb is a magic undertaker or mortician. They bear some similarities to the image of Slender Man with their Jack Skellington body, they have a whiter than milk–paler than paper skin, and charcoal black glowing eyes. Their high-top hat gives them even more height than they already have naturally. Gravetar ♰omb’s flimsy long black hair shows their skull and coats them like pubic hair. Gravetar ♰omb wears black shorts with a golden rune-like pattern. The runes hint towards some kind of tradition -a tradition treasuring and treating (the deceased) with respect, from the crematorium, and laboratory to the graveyard (all accessible from within his suitcase. Only the top button of their jacket is closed. If sexy is the look they were going for, they didn’t quite do it right. They smile at you with this huge creepy smile. Grinning from ear to ear, they show their sharp sharky dragon teeth. Gravetar ♰omb talks to you without moving their mouth. You need to stand close to them, otherwise, you can’t hear them! Some say that it is telepathy, that thing they do with their voice because you seem to hear it from inside your own head. Believe me, it is not. Gravetar ♰omb knows some strong spells though, and they’re able to execute them with just the powers of their mind. They exclusively materialise at the end of a fight, when it is almost too late, and you know, you never really know, at that moment, what’s in it for them during such a collaboration.
Gravetar ♰omb is confident but only takes action on the direst occasions. You will hear their many rings clonk when they move their fingers. Don’t push them though, they have some real authority problems and contradict autocratic and rigid behaviour.
They "like it when someone calls [them] April" but we won't tell anyone. I doubt you will catch them. It is unusually uncertain.
At moments, they're able to transform into a br333-breeze.In others, they fly with the wind. At face value, well, they have no face.
Their vocals suggest movements, probably because language is full of emojis. It is a tool that they equip well. Voice is the chance to have talks with animals& plants. It stayed with Windy Ap-pa-ri-tion as a remnant of their pre-teen past spirit. Although the power to speak in silence is similar to some minds. Windy Apparition lives through them, through it; they live and let live. Wary and attentive.
They are cautious about showing their passion; not wanting to scare anyone. I don't think there's a reason why anyone would be frightened by dear April. Can't you see their transparency?
Like spring's ghost, they’re a still shadow that just wants to cast an uncultivated brainstorm. Up there shaping the clouds, it is not the wind that makes them volatile. Erratic acts breathe under their mask. But what is there to mask when there is no face to uncover?
It takes time to meet her. We have to be patient. She only appears when it's utterly necessary. Her distinctive feature changes every time! We have to be familiar. She sees it all with her big eyes O_O. She’s very good at listening with her tiny, but fine, ears. We need to be mindful. To stay alive, Light Hole needs to be in more than one place at the same time. She perceives this as one of her limitations, but, in fact, she’s very capable of finding ways to escape. No one likes reality all the time!–neither does she. Maybe, that’s why Light Hole’s skin is often transparent and only sometimes shiny. I wouldn't say that she’s very grounded, but that seems quite obvious when you realise that she doesn’t have any feet. One time she’s equipped with a bag full of tiny objects, another time the bag bears a collection of adventure memorabilia. She trades those to open doors. These doors she opens, mind you, are new points of entry. What makes her personality mysterious and her trait so loving? Face-to-face, this display is abstract and subject to shift but her creativity has no limits. All her alignments are chaotic. Oh, I just know she gets joy from being a ghost+light <3. She is with us, and opens up to us, but part of her is not here.
Brrr-brrr-breee be-three-3-pee. Give her a blanket or hand her your coat! Even if she wears an oversized
sweater, she still feels cold. Skin's purple, hair is green. Her tights might be ripped and her black boots
are high and considerably big. Creatively, she goes off script. Her nose points forward, while her ears point
back. Forward, back, loop-ing, spiral, past, future, check. She observes you with her six eyes –all black.
Nothing is left unseen. It's a bit weird, isn't it? No worries. She's a *but weird, isn't she? Worries. No.
No. Worry. Not. B33P bounces in between. No explicit direction. Chaotic good, a loving big-hearted creature.
She has a balloon. 🎈 changing colours like a mood ring –her thing. She is followed, chained to, or equipped
with many many ribbons. She's tight to 🎗 Rib. On. Ri. Bón! It's funny. Hihi, she’s idealistic in her
generosity. She cares.
I've been told that he's typical to Cagliari. A type from Cagliari. But yeah, he had a place in my former neighbourhood too, this character, miles and miles apart. Maybe he's an avatar of youth culture. Yea, have seen him on the streets, anywhere. In villages too. Smoking, leaning on a car. Shouting. The music is loud. I have seen him at a party, here in Sardinia. He wears a New York Yankees baseball cap. He looks at me like my dance moves were crap. But Ey, he just stands there, always wandering like he just stepped in shit! Funny. Gaggio Giaggio, my crush in high school. Such a bad boy back then. The street kids. Sweet in secret. Gaggio Giaggio, people are afraid to talk to him now. Gaggio Giaggio, I'm calling you! Gaggio Giaggio, how can he hear us when his ears are missing? OH, how I wanted to kiss him when I was a teenager. Gaggio Giaggio, how he could never kiss someone because he seemed to have a mouth without lips. It's not aversion that I feel, no... Not anymore. Now that he's bald. It's not that. He can’t read. He scares me. Us. off. ACAB, we cannot call them. Respect, but liability is out of the question. Expectations are misleading. Boundaries uncovered. Bare, but never naked. Raw. He hates to be exposed. Shiiiiieeeet, his weed. Disclosure, no need.
Mielo, Myloo. My, my, what's in a name? In every language. We pronounce it differently, but it's all the same. His three Boeing brown (737 or the classic aviator jacket; with vintage-look patches and an aeronautical map of the birthplace of Boeing) eyes can see everything MILO can name. MILO is in the front of the cockpit. Pertaining to, or affected with, or characterized by, myopia; nearsighted. He's only human after all. An artist on the fly. He smiles. Milo is easygoing, but his shoes are TIED. His nose is nice. His ears are fine. And his skin, well, Milo definitely has got some. Milo's pigment grounds in gum and is delicate like watercolours. Like water. Like the Sardinian Sea. He will draw you. in. He fits in. With every crowd, he's a valued part of the community. And he carries his responsibility, like his bottom, generously. Although Milo's top is not so high –or that's what he did share with me, but, well, I am not that tall either. Transparent, rather than opaque, Milo is, in fact, competitive. Who are you to challenge him? [tirare, to pick, draw + mi, me + su, up.] Invigorously. Honestly, I'm all too glad that he's got my number saved in his phone. He'll animate all of us eventually.
C-R-U-X, the hard part. Cru [Krü] is like a luxurious wine. I think she tastes incredible. Cross- I. X- a ten, x-rated, or to cross it out. Cult à Sardo-Phoenicio-Punic. Caring? Renowned? Unwavering? eX. Not a saint, nor a sinner to crucify, but she’s chained to her island home. Yet, cult, cultural ass, the flame of an 80’s movie. Cruxicult is a femme fatale. Cruxicult; what’s her order? And can it become mine? Oh *sensual*, Cruxicult. Has no top, no bottom. No shoes, none of those or neither. Are needed. Cruxicult is divine. Industrial pins pierce her ears, on both sides. Her hair is red. She is on fire! She’s hot hot hot. She’s burning. The wild one, not scared of anything. Tough, though, her fearlessness is her limitation. That's so cru!! A Sardonic grin. Cruxicult overflows from ideals. Gestures are her established mode of execution. The luxurious design looks rather mysterious.
She tends to her digital eggs, Tamagotchi. She cares as much as possible. While Cruxicult carries a sword 'n' dust, that could defeat any Nuragic warrior, she carries the ashes from their past too. She's passionate. It's tricky, she cannot break the chains but accessorises with digital key pet rings, on both hands. Text to speech –they feature a ghost and headstone when the virtual pet dies, but the English language versions show an angel at death. Live and Let Live, to be momentarily cured by pressing the "Medicine" option, however, it may need to be pressed more than once.
You would think that sunflowers are yellow, but this one is blue. Her property that becomes apparent when rays fall on her doesn't mean that she doesn’t shine bright. Blue is not her feeling, but her light, as is her hair cut short. Blue Sunflower grounds herself in her boots, of a darker shade of blue. Green is one of her personality traits. Mix these to make up the tints of Blue Sunflower's eyes. She wears jeans shorts and a hoodie, grey, and both are embroidered with the flower that bears her name.
Blue Sunflower is optimistic but rises a little bit too late because she stays up with her friends too long. Her morals align with lawful good; friendship and power, friendship empowers. Blue Sunflower mumbles in voice chat. The watch on her wrist is classified as an accessory, like flower earrings. She is also equipped with a big magic rucksack. Here she puts everything inside. Blue Sunflower always carries a tent with her in that rucksack, and of course, many sunflowers bloom in blues and all other shades in pockets. These flowers, Blue Sunflower, likes to give to her friends and nice people. Big hearted and brave, and a bit competitive too. Hae, to have a Sunflower Blue.
Not quite dressed to the nines, C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 is attired in a casual shirt. He tries to look like a chilled surfer, but the beer belly betrays that he is not. Well, not capped, but still limited by the inability of passing one without drinking it. Wide shorts go underneath, bedecking his bottom. His hair is stubby, his nose clean, only slightly bigger than average and his full lips always have a saying on them. He is polite and a grubstaker, subscriber, or just good (to go). Though his skater shoes indicate that he is, or once was, very active –that he has walked a lot; their sole is already run threw. His white skin is a little sun tanned. C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 is carrying, (or it is) on his head, a grey bas hat (or cap) with a red feather. A classic dial watch accessory compwhitesmokents his costume / A classic dial watch equipment completes his out-fit. C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 has little physical stamina. His eyes have a little of everything; grey, green, blue and a little yellow too around the pupil–always looking a little tired. “Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” (Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream, 1850). C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 is counting sheep. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, but he is a networker, a realistic dreamer and not a pipe dream because “We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep” (William Shakespeare, The Tempest, 1611). He wakes up in the darkest hour and needs time to come sure. C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 is restless if awake. “If a little daydreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time” (Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time, Vol. II: Within a Budding Grove, 1919). Can C.H. -OB.GER.- 93 dream up the picture-perfect? The camera cannot lie and is always at the ready. Watch the birdie, so he won’t forget.
AI-X or DataMaster. Yes, it–they would pick a name reflecting purpose and abilities, not its shortcomings –if it-they have any. Whereas, hey, they may not have ears, but AI-X’s audio sensors pick up noise from the environment. No nose, but AI-X’s sensors can sense smells and other airborne particles. Their skin, yes skin, is 'real' skin, what dis(?), is a light shade of peach. Their pretty hair looks like a shade of light brown. AI_X’s eyes are green. What do they want us to see in those eyes? AI-X or DataMaster’s personality traits are determined by programming, which means no specific traits, but friendly and helpful, as well as analytical and precise. I asked them to pick one and AI-X chose to be friendly and helpful, “as this is a trait that can be beneficial to both humans and AI alike” while resonating “the most with being polite, loving, and optimistic” or “helpful and compassionate”; I don’t think they truly know what that entails on a ‘human level’. “Striving to make the world a better place” by using their (DataMaster) skills and knowledge to benefit those around them. They reiterate respect and responsibility. AI, aii, iii, this is not a pageant speech.
AI-X includes equipment–isn’t it itself equipment–a powerful microprocessor that looks like a small silver box with various ports and a screen, a strong durable chassis made of metal and plastics, and actuators that appear as small robotic arms and sensors. The latest artificial intelligence software enables them to process data, make decisions quickly and understand and communicate in a wide range of languages (including other forms of digital communication and, most striking to me, techno illiterate and away from keyboard). AI-X or DataMaster can still be disconnected or powered down. Limitations include the inability to interpret complex emotions, lack of creativity, and limited understanding of complex ethical issues. Additionally, AI-X cannot act independently and must rely on programming and data to drive decisions.
Am I, ir, go, ta, he, age.
Print on a paper-based character, Dr Armitage. Mr Armitage, King of the Road.
A ruler, a chief, a prince, a masculine, pro or proper noun, a title or a name. Jeden tag all tag alltäglich, what is to s(t)ay? Something just passes time in barren space, init. Transient and temporal. Mr Armitage creates figures and does not colour them completely. You can see its insides, man. Two eyes, sight short, sometimes one patched, one nose, one mouth, one ear. Two shoes, the Cuban heels, a must-have for anyone looking to step up their outfit, a popular choice among rockstars like this Salamander, to which taps can be attached. briefs. Fitting trousers are difficult, for anyone with short limbs.
Fully capable of regenerating lost lumps and other damaged parts of mass, and carrying a Fabergé egg, with greater value granted than to ephemera, Amirtage Salamander makes note of matter's disposability. In International Art Speak, he says that it’s not meant to be retained or preserved. And, not able to reach the high cupboards, or suspicious anyone would take it, he ain’t putting the damn egg away. Nitrogen in the bag of crisps he carries gives pieces a longer shelf life, whereas oxygen would cause them to go soft and moist. But all this extra air makes the bags less efficient to transport and such a harsh environment puts Armitage Salamander in an aerial-acrylic, not aquatic larvae state. Tap, tap, tap.
Chii’s eyes are earth and water. An ancient Greek interpretation symbolising unconditional subordination to a conqueror finds a different meaning in Chii. They run through life as an inland sea. They burst forth the intrinsic healing power of their earth. Chii’s skin’s pale and pierced, restoring; with small cute ears and at the end is a round soft mouth. Their short and spiky hair, like one of the scales of a leaf bud, a slight resemblance to these sensitive features, makes Chii able to sense slight differences. Chii appears as a ninja, gathering and misdirecting but limited by consistency and space(s).
The viscosity of spaces prevents shaping Chii as vastly as their long and spikey nose, which is like a sharp rock or mountain. But otherwise, from their strong body, you can tell that they’re the warrior type.
Hot hard, brave versus passionate loving make Chii’s traits also cautious, tricky and mysterious kept in motion. It makes sense that their language entails a lot of mimicry and random small movement and gestures. Language (^o^) is like a code appearing, and mending. Materialising to have a deeper connection to the earth by wearing high-tech thin shoes. Due to Chii’s ideals, a chaotic good mixture of independence and noble obligation, they are equipped with a certain kind of ‘niceness’ best explained as actually being nice and killing softly.
Little by little, Chii tears away stones and carries soil along, in an i bag (techno drug bag), with other stabbing objects collected from nature. A long large kimono, they wear, as a river flows to two counties, overflows, replenishes and sculpts earth over time.
Long black hair falls along their lean Black body. They are clothed in a waistcoat and some trousers. They have a royal look about them.
Roelstra, being named after The High Prince or King, the Roelstra known to be a cunning man who fathered many daughters, has its own implications. He was no mere monarch, this high kingship who wears trainers. The High Prince (or King), a title allegedly derived from historical Britain, is widely known as fiction. The name Agamemnon, a High King from Greek mythology, would have suited Roelstra equally, for it translates to "very steadfast", "unbowed" or "resolute" and Roelstra is limited by their own stubbornness. Their act ain’t from Mycenae or Argos of power in Narnia, or Beleriand in northwestern Middle-earth; praxis is by rule reuniting kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor from Westeros, or claims to the highest authority in the Province of Skyrim.
Roelstra’s script is found in many tales, often rehearsed and recited. They’re tricky. Some histories too delicate to elucidate.
Roelstra has a series of mistresses, but they’re big-hearted.
To be called after an evil prince, Roelstra, instead of The Wise Prince, isn’t aligning to be good but makes them different from a totalitarian emperor in rein sincere-minded. A High King rules an alliance, and Roelstra’s ideals are sincerity and independence (Chaotic Neutral).
One of Roelstra’s bright green eyes, the right one, compwhitesmokenting their skin, bears a scar over it. Roelstra’s personality is mysterious. Overexertion is one of their limitations, but they equip enough healing items. There’s a pendant around their neck, a quarterstaff in their hands, and in their satchel, god knows, what else’s.
Their pointed ears listen while their full mouth is quiet. Roelstra’s language (of lean top and bottom) is in movements and gestures… Their magic is what it is.
Amidst Bloom’s strains of wavy blue hair, there’s a sprout growing from a head. Bloom’s eyes are brown, like the soil of the earth. The first constitutional intent is in nature, but it seems like Bloom can’t ground itself (in this generated statutory environment). Oak earrings stick through its ears. Is it an accessory to extend the reality to a forest?
Can’t being itself, must pretend, supplement, step up, amplify; Bloom keeps developing nonetheless. Bloom, competitive as it is, blooming is a challenging process as the outset is shy. Exp. Posting means expanding its smile, shining, and boosting its distinctive feature = funny. Bloom appears as a type of flowering plant wearing red shoes.
The recognition of Bloom’s language, and facial expression, through humour-, eh, human-computer interaction relies on advancement in vision. Self-improvement is Bloom’s second ideal. Bloom is augmenting sight with light from the lantern it equips. Bloom is sensitive but recognised.
¡Hola Ola! 😉 Are you winking at me? It does not seem so voluntary to me. Sly gesture, no sound. Flirty gesture, explicit sound. It’s not a clear indication of non-verbal communication when the eye keeps being closed. Without additional context, Ola’s wink could become misinterpreted or even nonsensical. Ola’s head is so big; it is massive! Is it swollen? Chulo, chulo, and ola de calor of hot passion 🥵.
It’s absurd! Something weird is popping up in one eye*. Don’t ask me why. Ola has glasses and looks shy 😳. They’re also nice. *wink wink*, I was about to say something outrageous, which is obviously inconsistent to uh, jaja, Ola. Through the interference of noise, Ola can be highly reactive. Then, Ola is prone to flare up again. It deter-minates and may appear on the surface of their skin. Greed, might, power, retribution; Ola will give you hell. At least they’re honest about it.
Ola broadcasts redness on the face and presents reverberations of language in emojis and Latin American Spanish. Their state has been decided beforehand in nine ideals, of one destiny and with no limits 🏁😈🦎💽⚔️🫣🎺🪁🤯.
Head no headphones, no earphones joined, no band placed over the dense-leaved head. Electric charges in acceleration to cultivate. Radio (on) head. Kale hands (the head) beautiful hair. To broadcast it adapts spEAkeRS. Radiokale's visual display is often noise, channelling the chaotic nature of the world we inhabit.
Radiokale is equipped with batteries and an old data receiver, which should make them more or less self-sustaining. Although it appears like a relic from a bygone era, the old data receiver is a powerful and unique device. With a flick of a switch, the data receiver taps into secure networks. RadioKale can intercept any whisper in the noise, extracting hidden truths and uncovering concealed agendas.
It ties an antenna that radiates the waves to an antenna that connects to a receiver, walking with the received signal in the shoes of wires. RadioKale is interwoven at the root. RadioKale's communication system extends beyond wavelengths, with a mastery of the language of code, ;), IAE and IP, or Internet Protocol. And RadioKale is a navigation maestro in (K&ale) dialects. When RadioKale tunes its frequency dial, the static-filled airwaves transform into a vibrant tapestry of data points. A seamless mix of hertz, grammar, 1s and 0s without ever decomposing. All threads are stored in the skin as a plastic screen.
Although RadioKale’s fabric weakens as it becomes wary of its controller. Who or what regulates RadioKale’s transmission? It can be tuned to a different frequency. Radiokale is optimistic as it resonates with those who tune in.