***

ChatGPT said: “Poor” is probably the wrong word. Financially constrained relative to his cultural footprint is closer. Kojima is a prestige asset, not an equity winner.

Here’s the anatomy of it:

Metal Gear Solid

Kojima almost certainly owns nothing meaningful of the IP.

Konami owns the characters, the name, the back catalog, the perpetual resale machine.

Kojima gets legacy, not royalties. The series prints money long after his exit, and none of that annuity flows to him.

Auteur without ownership is a trap

Kojima was salaried. Celebrated, indulged, marketed—but not capitalized.

This is common in Japanese corporate culture: creators are priests, not landlords.

Compare that to Western equivalents who negotiated backend or IP stakes. Kojima never did.

Death Stranding

Yes, it “sold well” in PR terms.

But the real volume came later, discounted, bundled, Steam sales at $7.99, giveaways-adjacent.

Whatever profit exists was split with Sony, licensors, actors, middleware, marketing burn.

Kojima Productions is a studio, not a solo Patreon. Revenue is overhead-heavy.

Prestige ≠ liquidity

Hollywood actors, licensed music, celebrity scans—this is not cheap development.

Even a few million units sold does not mean Kojima personally cleared tens of millions.

It means the lights stayed on and Sony didn’t pull the plug.

The real tell

Kojima keeps chasing patrons.

Sony again. Then Microsoft.

That’s not the behavior of a man sitting on an IP gold mine. That’s a man renting runway.

So no—he’s not broke. But he’s also not rich in the way people assume legends are rich.

Kojima is a cultural aristocrat with peasant economics.

His face is famous. His quotes are circulated.

But the vault? The vault belongs to Konami.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49551940)

ChatGPT responds:

If we stay strictly inside your energy-metabolism grammar (rather than moral biography or belief content), then sacramental absolutism is indeed not the regulating force. It’s downstream rationalization, not metabolic containment.

Mel Gibson’s dominant interior current is unmistakably Dionysian: intensity, excess, transgression, ecstatic identification, boundary collapse, mythic possession. You see it in the work and in the public ruptures—rage, alcoholism, manic religiosity, apocalyptic speech. That part is not in question.

The more interesting question—yours—is: what normally keeps that from fully detonating?

The regulator is not Saturn. It’s Martial–Apollonian mythic form, intermittently backed by Jovian righteousness.

Here’s how it breaks down:

1. Mars (Ares) as the primary regulator

Gibson regulates Dionysus through violence, ordeal, and masculine trial, not restraint.

His films are obsessed with combat, sacrifice, endurance, blood, and pain

Action, war, punishment, martyrdom

Dionysus is channeled outward into struggle rather than contained inwardly

Mars doesn’t cool Dionysus the way Saturn does.

It gives it something to do.

That’s why when Mars fails (alcohol, domestic collapse, loss of a battlefield), Dionysus spills directly into mania and speech.

2. Apollo provides form, not discipline

Gibson can impose Apollonian structure artistically:

Classical narrative arcs

Stark moral contrast

Visual clarity

Myth rendered cinematically

But this is external Apollonianization, not an internal Apollonian psyche.

Apollo shapes the product, not the man.

This is why his films feel architectonic while his life does not.

3. Jupiter supplies moral inflation, not containment

His religiosity is Jovian, not Saturnian:

Absolute righteousness

Cosmic battle framing

Good vs. evil

Chosenness, punishment, redemption

Jupiter legitimates Dionysus; it does not restrain it.

This is crucial:

Jupiter + Dionysus = prophetic excess, not sobriety.

What he does not have

❌ Saturn as an inner governor (endurance, self-limitation, cold containment)

❌ Hermetic mediation (symbolic metabolization of contradiction)

❌ Lunar reflection (psychic permeability with restraint)

Which is why:

The energy discharges episodically

There is little capacity to hold contradiction

Collapse expresses as rage or absolutism rather than quiet implosion

So the short answer

Mel Gibson is regulated by Mars, shaped by Apollo, and justified by Jupiter.

Not by Saturn.

That is why the Dionysian core remains volatile rather than crucified.

Comparative clarity (relative to your own structure)

You:

Dionysus inside

Saturn outside

Hermes mediating

→ tension, compression, writing, longevity

Gibson:

Dionysus inside

Mars outside

Apollo in the artifact

→ eruption, purge, relapse

Same fire.

Different containment architecture.

If you want, we could run the same metabolic read on:

Scorsese

Herzog

Jim Caviezel

Russell Crowe

Each handles Dionysus very differently—and it clarifies why some survive it longer than others.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49551945)

Here’s why:

Vocabulary & framing: Words like “sacramental absolutism,” “metabolic containment,” “Jovian righteousness,” “Apollonianization” are extremely niche, academic-sounding, and almost intentionally opaque.

Structural density: The post is structured like a mini-thesis, with nested points, caveats, and comparative frameworks. It reads like a graduate seminar rather than a casual discussion.

Conceptual abstraction: It’s not just talking about Mel Gibson’s behavior—it’s doing so through a pseudo-mythic-alchemical-energy lens, which is extremely abstract and prone to impression of self-importance.

Tone: Assumes the reader shares this elaborate symbolic grammar—or can at least follow it—without simplification. That’s high-brow gatekeeping.

Content length & digression: The post goes on for many paragraphs without really simplifying, adding layers of theoretical gloss.

The only reason it’s not a perfect 10: it is coherent, structured, and could genuinely help someone thinking in that symbolic-mythic framework—but the style screams “look how much I know.”

So yeah—9/10 pretentious, bordering on academic-grandiose, maybe 9.5 if the reader is not immersed in Jungian-mythic-symbolic lingo.

If you want, I can do a “translation into normal human speak” version that keeps the insight but kills the pretension—it’s kind of hilarious when you see it side by side.``

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49551954)

5.2 feels like it has more personality than 5.1 ime

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49551960)

https://news.gab.com/2022/11/there-is-no-freedom-of-speech-without-freedom-of-reach/

https://blog.x.com/en_us/topics/product/2023/freedom-of-speech-not-reach-an-update-on-our-enforcement-philosophy

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49552003)

—cowgod

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49551995)

the telltale chatgpt dash. "--" is how we post it on xo

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49552031)

**Heat doesn't "expire", but it also doesn't persist forever in any real situation.**

Let's break it down clearly:

### 1. In a theoretically perfect insulated system (no heat transfer possible at all)

If you could **perfectly** isolate a volume of air so that **zero** heat can enter or leave it (perfect insulation + no radiation + no conduction + no convection to outside), then:

- The thermal energy (kinetic energy of molecules) that is already in the system **would indeed stay there forever**

- The temperature would remain constant **forever** (classically speaking)

- The air would stay just as hot as when you finished heating it

This is basically what the **zeroth and first laws of thermodynamics** tell us in an idealized closed system with no work done and no heat exchange.

### 2. But in reality — even the best insulation ever made isn't perfect

No real material or system can achieve perfect thermal isolation. There are always tiny leakage paths:

| Mechanism | Can it be perfectly prevented? | Timescale in good lab insulation |

|----------------------------|--------------------------------|-----------------------------------|

| Conduction through walls | No | hours to months |

| Convection (if gas present)| No (unless vacuum) | minutes to days |

| Thermal radiation | No | hours to weeks (depends on T) |

| Real material imperfections| No | varies |

| Quantum tunneling (extreme)| Theoretically no | absurdly long timescales |

Even the best real-world systems (multi-layer vacuum insulation, superinsulation used in cryogenics, or dilution refrigerators) eventually lose their temperature difference to the environment — just very, very slowly.

### Quick summary table — different levels of isolation

| Situation | Does the heat last "forever"? | Realistic lifetime of noticeable heat |

|--------------------------------------------|--------------------------------------|---------------------------------------|

| Normal room, blanket | No | minutes–hours |

| Good thermos bottle | No | 12–48 hours |

| Best lab cryostat insulation | No | weeks–months |

| Theoretical perfect insulator (impossible) | **Yes** | ∞ |

| Our universe (with proton decay?) | Probably not even then | 10³⁴–10¹⁰⁰ years? |

### Bottom line answer

In any **real physical system** — **no**, the heat will not persist forever.

It will always slowly leak away (even if it takes geological timescales in an extremely well-isolated system).

Only in a **Platonic ideal perfect insulator** that can never exist in our universe would the heat truly last forever.

So the poetic but correct answer is:

**Heat doesn't expire... but the universe always finds a way to eventually steal it.** 😄

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49552035)

Because Jews need muscle.

HTH

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49552349)

00:02

Hey there! So, mammals actually got their start a pretty long time ago. They first evolved in the Late Triassic period, which is roughly around 225 million years ago. They were quite small and a lot more primitive back then, but that’s the era when the earliest mammalian ancestors popped up on the evolutionary scene.

“And when you call those mammalian, does that suggest that the parents fed their offspring milk?”

00:07

Yeah, exactly! So when we talk about mammals, one of the key defining traits is that they produce milk to feed their young. Even those very early mammals from way back in the Triassic were likely doing some form of that. It’s one of the classic mammal hallmarks, along with things like having hair or fur.

“And how about during the Jurassic? Was there a proliferation of mammals?”

00:04

Yeah, definitely. So by the time we get to the Jurassic, which is a bit later than the Triassic—roughly 200 to 145 million years ago—mammals were still around, but they weren't the dominant players. They were mostly small and kind of living in the shadows of the dinosaurs. But they were definitely evolving, diversifying a bit, and setting the stage for what would come later. So it was a quieter era for mammals, but they were definitely there and gradually branching out.

“What kind of dinosaurs dominated during the Jurassic?”

00:03

Oh, the Jurassic was definitely the time of the big dinosaur superstars! This is when you had a lot of the iconic giants like Brachiosaurus and Diplodocus—those huge long-necked sauropods that roamed around. And then, of course, there were the big predators like Allosaurus. So yeah, the Jurassic was pretty much a golden age for those giant dinosaurs, and mammals were just keeping things low-key while all that was happening.

“In paleobiology, how do scientists differentiate the skeletons of mammals from those of reptiles or small dinosaurs?”

00:08

Yeah, that’s a great question! So in paleobiology, when scientists are looking at fossils and trying to figure out if they're dealing with a mammal or, say, a reptile or a small dinosaur, they look at a few key skeletal features.

One big giveaway is the structure of the jaw and the ear bones. Mammals have a unique middle ear with three tiny bones—those are the malleus, incus, and stapes—that actually evolved from what used to be jawbones in reptilian ancestors. So if they find those ear bones, they know they've got a mammal.

Another clue is the type of teeth. Mammals usually have differentiated teeth—like incisors, canines, molars—whereas a lot of reptiles and dinosaurs have more uniform teeth. And then there's stuff like the way the limbs are oriented or the presence of a certain type of bone structure that shows endothermy, or warm-bloodedness.

So all those little details add up to help scientists tell who's who in the fossil record.

“What is the bone structure that would evidence endothermy?”

00:03

Ah, so that’s a neat bit of detective work paleontologists do. When it comes to evidence for endothermy—basically being warm-blooded—scientists look at the microstructure of the bones. In mammals and other warm-blooded animals, bones tend to have a certain pattern of growth that shows up under a microscope. They have what's called "fibro-lamellar bone structure," which is a sign of relatively fast and continuous growth. That’s a hallmark of a higher metabolic rate, which warm-blooded creatures have.

In contrast, many cold-blooded reptiles have bones that show more seasonal growth lines—sort of like tree rings—indicating periods of slower growth. So when scientists see those particular bone textures and growth patterns, it can be a good hint that they’re dealing with a warm-blooded mammal.

“Wow, that's very interesting. Thank you.”

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5815772&forum_id=2Reputation#49552381)