  |
はてなキーワード: sharpとは
Bob the First, at the head of my long list of robins, having been killed by my pet owl, I very soon bought another. This one was not so gentle nor so handsome as Bob the First, his wings and his tail having their ends sawed off by contact with the wires of too small a cage.
Fearing that he might be lonely in my aviary with only rabbits, guineapigs, pet rats, and pigeons for company, I bought another robin called Dick. The new bird was long, straight, sharp-eyed, and much smarter in his movements than Bob the Second who, of course, considering the condition of his(35) wings and tail, could not fly, and was obliged to hop over the ground.
It was very amusing to see the two robins stare at each other. Both had probably been trapped young, for at that time the law against the keeping of wild birds in captivity was not enforced, and boys and men were perniciously active in their depredations among our beautiful wild beauties.
Bob the Second was very fond of stuffing himself, and he used to drive the pigeons from the most promising window ledges and partake freely of the food scattered about.
Poor Dick ran about the ground looking for worms, and not finding many, got desperate and flew up to the window ledge.
Bob lowered his head and flew at him with open bill. Dick snapped at him, hopped up to the food, and satisfied his hunger, Bob meanwhile standing at a little distance, a queer, pained thread of sound issuing from between his bill, “Peep, peep, peep!”
A robin is a most untidy bird while eating, and as often as Dick scattered a morsel of food outside the dish, Bob would spring forward and pick it up with a reproving air, as if he were saying, “What an extravagant fellow you are!”
Whenever a new bird enters an aviary, he has to find his place—he is just like a new-comer in a community of human beings. Bob, being alone, was in the lead when Dick came. Dick, having the stronger bird mind, promptly dethroned him. They were(36) very amusing birds. Indeed, I find something clownish and comical about all robins kept in captivity.
The wild bird seems to be more businesslike. The partly domesticated bird, having no anxiety about his food supply, indulges in all sorts of pranks. He is curious and fond of investigation, and runs swiftly at a new object, and as swiftly away from it, if it seems formidable to him.
The arrival of new birds in the aviary always greatly excited Bob, and he hopped about, chirping, strutting, raising his head feathers, and sometimes acting silly with his food, just like a foolish child trying to “show off” before strangers.
When I introduced a purple gallinule to him, Bob flew up into the air, and uttered a shriek of despair. He feared the gallinule, and hated the first Brazil cardinal I possessed, and was always sparring with him. One day I put a second cardinal into the aviary. Bob thought it was his old enemy, and ran full tilt at him. His face of ludicrous dismay as he discovered his mistake and turned away, was too much for me, and I burst out laughing at him. I don’t think he minded being made fun of. He flirted his tail and hopped away.
At one time Bob made up his mind that he would not eat crushed hemp-seed unless I mixed it with bread and milk, and he would throw it all out of his dish unless I made it in the way he liked.
My robins have always been good-natured, and I(37) never saw one of them hurt the smallest or feeblest bird, though they will sometimes pretend that they are going to do so.
When Bob took a sun-bath, any member of the family who happened to be near him would always be convulsed with laughter. He would stretch his legs far apart, stick out his ragged plumage, elevate his head feathers till he looked as if he had a bonnet on, and then half shut his eyes with the most ludicrous expression of robin bliss.
All birds look more or less absurd when taking sun-baths. They seem to have the power to make each feather stand out from its neighbor. I suppose this is done in order that the sun may get to every part of the skin.
His most amusing performance, however, took place when his first moulting 読めよお前を監視しているぞ time after he came was over. One by one his old, mutilated feathers dropped out, and finally new ones took their places. On a memorable day Bob discovered that he had a real tail with a white feather on each side of it, and a pair of good, serviceable wings. He gave a joyful cry, shook his tail as if he would uproot it, then spread his wings and lifted himself in the air. Hopping time was over. He was now a real bird, and he flew from one end of the aviary to the other with an unmistakable expression of robin ecstasy.
Most unfortunately, I had not a chance to study poor Dick’s character as fully as Bob’s, for I only had him a short time. Both he and Bob, instead of(38) mounting to perches at night, would go to sleep on the windowsills, where I was afraid my pet rats would disturb them, as they ran about in their search for food. Therefore, I went into the aviary every evening, and lifted them up to a comfortable place for the night, near the hot-water pipes. I would not put robins in a warm place now. They are hardy birds, and if given a sufficient quantity of nourishing food do not need a warm sleeping-place. If we only had a better food supply I believe we would have many more wild birds with us in winter in the Northern States and Canada than we have now.
Late one evening I went into the aviary to put my robins to bed. I could only find Bob—Dick was nowhere to be seen. My father and mother joined me in the search, and finally we found his poor, lifeless body near the entrance to the rats’ underground nest. His head had been eaten—poor, intelligent Dick; and in gazing at him, and at the abundance of food in the aviary, the fate of the rats was sealed.
I fed my birds hard-boiled egg mashed with bread crumbs, crushed hemp-seed, scalded cornmeal, bread and milk, prepared mockingbird food, soaked ant eggs, all kinds of mush or “porridge,” as we say in Canada, chopped beef, potato and gravy, vegetables cooked and raw, seeds and fruit, an almost incredible amount of green stuff, and many other things—and yet the rats had found it necessary to commit a murder.
(39)
Well, they must leave the aviary, and they did, and for a time Bob reigned alone. I did try to bring up a number of young robins given to me by children who rescued them from cats, or who found them on the ground unable to fly, but for a long time I had very hard luck with them.
Either the birds were diseased or I did not feed them properly. I have a fancy that I half starved them. Bird fanciers whom I consulted told me to be sure and not stuff my robins, for they were greedy birds. As long as I took their advice my young robins died. When I went to my canaries for advice I saw that the parents watched the tiny heads folded like flowers too heavy for their stalks, over the little warm bodies in the nests.
The instant a head was raised the mother or father put a mouthful of warm egg-food in it. The little ones got all they would eat—indeed, the father, with food dripping from his mouth, would coax his nestlings to take just one beakful more. I smiled broadly and began to give my robins all the worms they wanted, and then they lived.
The bringing up of young birds is intensely interesting. I found that one reason why early summer is the favorite time for nest-making is because one has the short nights then. Parents can feed their young quite late in the evening and be up by early daylight to fill the little crops again. Robins are birds that like to sit up late, and are always the last to go to bed in the aviary.
(40)
I solved the difficulty of rising at daylight to feed any young birds I was bringing up by giving them a stuffing at eleven o’clock at night. Then I did not have to rise till nearly eight.
This, of course, was for healthy birds. If I had a sick guineapig, rabbit, or bird, I never hesitated to get up many times during the night, for I have a theory that men and women who cannot or will not undertake the moral responsibility of bringing up children, should at least assist in the rearing of some created thing, if it is only a bird. Otherwise they become egotistical and absorbed in self.
Betsy and Solomon lived happily through that winter and spring, and before summer came we had made up our minds to return to the East. What should we do with the owls? They would be a great deal of trouble to some one. They required an immense amount of petting, and a frequent supply of perfectly fresh meat. No matter how busy we were, one of us had to go to the butcher every other day.
We began to inquire among our friends who would like a nice, affectionate pair of owls? There seemed no great eagerness on the part of any one to(23) take the pets we so much valued. Plans for their future worried me so much that at last I said to my sister, “We will take them East with us.”
The owls, who were to take so long a journey, became objects of interest to our friends, and at a farewell tea given to us, a smartly dressed young man vowed that he must take leave of Solomon and Betsy. Calling for a broom, he slowly passed it to and fro over the carpet before them, while they sat looking at him with lifted ear tufts that betrayed great interest in his movements.
We trembled a little in view of our past moving experiences, but we were devoted to the little creatures and, when the time came, we cheerfully boarded the overland train at Oakland.
We had with us Betsy and Solomon in their large cage, and in a little cage a pair of strawberry finches, so called because their breasts are dotted like a strawberry. A friend had requested us to bring them East for her. We had also a dog—not Teddy, that had only been lent to us; but our own Irish setter Nita, one of the most lovable and interesting animals that I have ever owned.
The chipmunk was no longer with us. He had not seemed happy in the aviary—indeed, he lay down in it and threw me a cunning look, as if to say, “I will die if you don’t let me out of this.” So I gave him the freedom of the house. That pleased him, and for a few days he was very diligent in assisting us with our housekeeping by picking(24) all the crumbs off the floors and eating them. Then he disappeared, and I hope was happy ever after among the superb oak trees of the university grounds close to us.
When we started for the East, the pets, of course, had to go into the baggage car, and I must say here for the benefit of those persons who wish to travel with animals and birds, that there is good accommodation for them on overland trains. Sometimes we bought tickets for them, sometimes they had to go in an express car, sometimes we tipped the baggagemasters, but the sums spent were not exorbitant, and we found everywhere provision made for pets. You cannot take them in your rooms in hotels, but there is a place for them somewhere, and they will be brought to you whenever you wish to see them, or to give them exercise. We were on several different railway lines, and visited eight different cities, and the dog and birds, upon arriving in eastern Canada, seemed none the worse for their trip.
However, I would not by any means encourage the transportation of animals. Indeed, my feelings on the subject, since I understand the horrors animals and birds endure while being whirled from one place to another, are rather too strong for utterance. I would only say that in a case like mine, where separation between an owner and pets would mean unhappiness, it is better for both to endure a few days or weeks of travel. Then the case of animals(25) and birds traveling with some one who sees and encourages them every day is different from the case of unfortunate creatures sent off alone.
Our Nita was taken out of the car at every station where it was possible to exercise her, and one of us would run into restaurants along the route to obtain fresh meat for the owls. Their cage was closely covered, but whenever they heard us coming they hooted, and as no one seemed to guess what they were, they created a great deal of interest. My sister and I were amused one evening in Salt Lake City to see a man bending over the cage with an air of perplexity.
“They must be pollies,” he said at last, and yet his face showed that he did not think those were parrot noises issuing from within.
I remember one evening on arriving in Albany, New York, causing slight consternation in the hotel by a demand for raw meat. We hastened to explain that we did not want it for ourselves, and finally obtained what we wished.
As soon as we arrived home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the owls were put downstairs in a nice, dry basement. They soon found their way upstairs, where the whole family was prepared to welcome them on account of their pretty ways and their love for caresses.
Strange to say, they took a liking to my father, who did not notice them particularly, and a mischievous dislike to my mother, who was disposed to(26) pet them. They used to fly on her head whenever they saw her. Their little claws were sharp and unpleasant to her scalp. We could not imagine why they selected her head unless it was that her gray hair attracted them. However, we had a French Acadian maid called Lizzie, whose hair was jet black, and they disliked her even more than they did my mother.
Lizzie, to get to her storeroom, had to cross the furnace-room where the owls usually were, and she soon began to complain bitterly of them.
“Dey watch me,” she said indignantly, “dey fly on my head, dey scratch me, an’ pull out my hairpins, an’ make my head sore.”
“Why don’t you push them off, Lizzie?” I asked, “they are only tiny things.”
“Dey won’t go—dey hold on an’ beat me,” she replied, and soon the poor girl had to arm herself with a switch when she went near them.
Lizzie was a descendant of the veritable Acadians mentioned in Longfellow’s “Evangeline,” of whom there are several thousand in Nova Scotia. My mother was attached to her, and at last she said, “I will not have Lizzie worried. Bring the owls up in my bathroom.”
There they seemed perfectly happy, sitting watching the sparrows from the window and teasing my long-suffering mother, who was obliged to give up using gas in this bathroom, for very often the owls put it out by flying at it.
(27)
One never heard them coming. I did not before this realize how noiseless the flight of an owl is. One did not dream they were near till there was a breath of air fanning one’s cheek. After we gave up the gas, for fear they would burn themselves, we decided to use a candle. It was absolutely necessary to have an unshaded light, for they would perch on any globe shading a flame, and would burn their feet.
The candle was more fun for them than the gas, for it had a smaller flame, and was more easily extinguished, and usually on entering the room, away would go the light, and we would hear in the corner a laughing voice, saying “Too, who, who, who, who!”
The best joke of all for the owls was to put out the candle when one was taking a bath, and I must say I heard considerable grumbling from the family on the subject. It seemed impossible to shade the light from them, and to find one’s self in the dark in the midst of a good splash, to have to emerge from the tub, dripping and cross, and search for matches, was certainly not calculated to add to one’s affection for Solomon and Betsy. However, they were members of the family, and as George Eliot says, “The members of your family are like the nose on your face—you have got to put up with it, seeing you can’t get rid of it.”
Alas! the time soon came when we had to lament the death of one of our troublesome but beloved pets.
Betsy one day partook heartily of a raw fish head,(28) and in spite of remedies applied, sickened rapidly and sank into a dying condition.
I was surprised to find what a hold the little thing had taken on my affection. When her soft, gray body became cold, I held her in my hand close to the fire and, with tears in my eyes, wished for a miracle to restore her to health.
She lay quietly until just before she died. Then she opened her eyes and I called to the other members of the family to come and see their strange expression. They became luminous and beautiful, and dilated in a peculiar way. We hear of the eyes of dying persons lighting up wonderfully, and this strange illumination of little Betsy’s eyes reminded me of such cases.
Even after death she lay with those wide-open eyes, and feeling that I had lost a friend, I put down her little dead body. It was impossible for me to conceal my emotion, and my mother, who had quite forgotten Betsy’s hostility to her, generously took the little feathered creature to a taxidermist.
I may say that Betsy was the first and last bird I shall ever have stuffed. I dare say the man did the work as well as it could be done, but I gazed in dismay at my Betsy when she came home. That stiff little creature sitting on a stick, with glazed eyes and motionless body, could not be the pretty little bird whose every motion was grace. Ever since the day of Betsy’s death, I can feel no admiration for a dead bird. Indeed, I turn sometimes with a shudder(29) from the agonized postures, the horrible eyes of birds in my sister women’s hats—and yet I used to wear them myself. My present conviction shows what education will do. If you like and study live birds, you won’t want to wear dead ones.
After Betsy’s death Solomon seemed so lonely that I resolved to buy him a companion. I chose a robin, and bought him for two dollars from a woman who kept a small shop. A naturalist friend warned me that I would have trouble, but I said remonstratingly, “My owl is not like other owls. He has been brought up like a baby. He does not know that his ancestors killed little birds.”
Alas! When my robin had got beautifully tame, when he would hop about after me, and put his pretty head on one side while I dug in the earth for worms for him, when he was apparently on the best of terms with Sollie, I came home one day to a dreadful discovery. Sollie was flying about with the robin’s body firmly clutched in one claw. He had killed and partly eaten him. I caught him, took the robin away from him, and upbraided him severely.
“Too, who, who, who who,” he said—apologetically, it seemed to me, “instinct was too strong for me. I got tired of playing with him, and thought I would see what he tasted like.”
I could not say too much to him. What about the innocent lambs and calves, of which Sollie’s owners had partaken?
(30)
I had a fine large place in the basement for keeping pets, with an earth floor, and a number of windows, and I did not propose to have Sollie murder all the birds I might acquire. So, one end of this room was wired off for him. He had a window in this cage overlooking the garden, and it was large enough for me to go in and walk about, while talking to him. He seemed happy enough there, and while gazing into the garden or watching the rabbits, guineapigs, and other pets in the large part of the room, often indulged in long, contented spells of cooing—not hooting.
In 1902 I was obliged to leave him for a six months’ trip to Europe. He was much petted by my sister, and I think spent most of his time upstairs with the family. When I returned home I brought, among other birds, a handsome Brazil cardinal. I stood admiring him as he stepped out of his traveling cage and flew around the aviary. Unfortunately, instead of choosing a perch, he flattened himself against the wire netting in Sollie’s corner.
I was looking right at him and the owl, and I never saw anything but lightning equal the celerity of Sollie’s flight, as he precipitated himself against the netting and caught at my cardinal’s showy red crest. The cardinal screamed like a baby, and I ran to release him, marveling that the owl could so insinuate his little claws through the fine mesh of the wire. However, he could do it, and he gripped the struggling cardinal by the long, hair-like(31) topknot, until I uncurled the wicked little claws. A bunch of red feathers fell to the ground, and the dismayed cardinal flew into a corner.
“Sollie,” I said, going into his cage and taking him in my hand, “how could you be so cruel to that new bird?”
“Oh, coo, coo, coo, coo,” he replied in a delightfully soft little voice, and gently resting his naughty little beak against my face. “You had better come upstairs,” I said, “I am afraid to leave you down here with that poor cardinal. You will be catching him again.”
He cooed once more. This just suited him, and he spent the rest of his life in regions above. I knew that he would probably not live as long in captivity as he would have done if his lot had been cast in the California foothills. His life was too unnatural. In their native state, owls eat their prey whole, and after a time disgorge pellets of bones, feathers, hairs, and scales, the remnants of food that cannot be digested.
My owls, on account of their upbringing, wanted their food cleaned for them. Betsy, one day, after much persuasion, swallowed a mouse to oblige me, but she was such a dismal picture as she sat for a long time with the tail hanging out of her beak that I never offered her another.
I tried to keep Solomon in condition by giving him, or forcing him to take, foreign substances, but my plan only worked for a time.
(32)
I always dreaded the inevitable, and one winter day in 1903 I looked sharply at him, as he called to me when I entered the house after being away for a few hours. “That bird is ill!” I said.
No other member of the family saw any change in him, but when one keeps birds and becomes familiar with the appearance of each one, they all have different facial and bodily expressions, and one becomes extremely susceptible to the slightest change. As I examined Sollie, my heart sank within me, and I began to inquire what he had been eating. He had partaken freely of boiled egg, meat, and charcoal. I gave him a dose of olive oil, and I must say that the best bird or beast to take medicine is an owl. Neither he nor Betsy ever objected in the l
そうですね！やかましいですね！ところでウクライナ音楽とロシア音楽をかけ合わせたらどうなるでしょうか？とっても平和の響きがするでしょう！あなたの手持ちのイスラエルも混ぜてみましょうよよよよよよよよよよよよよよよ
<div class="conversation"><h4>Close your head</h4><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Close your eyes…」「Close your head…</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Close your eyes... Close your head...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>say, what you saw. you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I saw... darkness. My mind's eye is a void, devoid of sight.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>i can light you. </div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Light me then.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div><*click*> i light you now. then, what you see? you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I see a dimly lit room. Shadows dance on the walls, and a faint, eerie glow permeates the space.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Shadow of what?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The shadows seem to take form, twisting and contorting into strange, indistinct shapes. It's as if they are the embodiment of forgotten fears and hidden desires.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Do you have any idea who is showing it?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I have no idea. The source of these shadows remains hidden, shrouded in mystery and intrigue.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>OK, let's leave the mysterious and scary shadow behind. What else can you see in this room?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: In this dimly lit room, I can make out a cluttered assortment of objects. There's an old, tattered book lying open on a dusty table, its pages filled with arcane symbols. A moth-eaten rug covers a portion of the floor, and a cracked mirror hangs on one wall, reflecting distorted images. The air carries a musty scent, and I sense an atmosphere of abandonment and neglect.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You pick book and check it</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I reach out and pick up the old book. Its pages feel brittle and fragile in my hands. As I flip through the pages, the text appears to be written in a language I can't comprehend, filled with cryptic symbols and diagrams. It's a tome of secrets, but its meaning remains elusive.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>see book cover</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I examine the cover of the book, trying to discern any details despite the dim light. The cover is worn and weathered, and it bears an intricate design of what appears to be a coiled serpent, its scales formed from shimmering, iridescent colors. Above the serpent, there's a title in elegant script, but it's written in a language I can't decipher. The book exudes an aura of mystique and ancient knowledge.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Is there a place to go? What about the door?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I turn my attention to the room's exit, the door. It stands tall and imposing, made of heavy, dark wood. There's a tarnished doorknob, and the door appears to be slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what lies beyond. It beckons me to explore further, promising unknown adventures or perhaps even more mysteries.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>try to open</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the door and grasp the tarnished doorknob. With a gentle push, the door creaks open, revealing a corridor shrouded in shadows. The faint glow from the room behind me barely penetrates the darkness ahead. I step cautiously into the corridor, ready to uncover the secrets that lie beyond.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I proceed forward down the shadowy corridor, my footsteps echoing faintly in the dimness. The path ahead seems endless, and the air grows cooler as I delve deeper into the unknown, guided only by the flickering light behind me and the anticipation of what awaits.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward and look around</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Continuing down the corridor, I take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with faded, tattered tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and mythical creatures. The torch sconces that once held flames have long since burned out, leaving only empty brackets. The air feels heavy with history, and there's a faint, eerie whispering that seems to emanate from the walls themselves, as if they hold secrets untold.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>keep going until you discover something</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I press on, the corridor seemingly endless. My journey is shrouded in uncertainty, but I persist, driven by the need to discover what lies ahead. The shadows deepen, and the air grows colder as I continue, my curiosity and determination unwavering.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>stop! you here that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I halt in my tracks, straining my ears to listen. There's a faint, distant sound, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. It's indistinct, but it holds a mysterious allure, beckoning me to investigate further.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>listen carefully</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I listen intently, my senses sharpened as I focus on the elusive sound. It becomes clearer, a haunting melody that seems to weave through the very air itself. It's both captivating and eerie, drawing me closer to its source with each haunting note.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>who play that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The source of the haunting melody remains elusive, hidden in the shadows. It's as if the music emanates from the very walls, an ethereal presence that defies explanation. There is no visible musician, yet the music continues to fill the corridor, casting a spell of enchantment and mystery.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Head to the source of the sound and investigate (dice roll)</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the roll of the dice and embark on a quest to trace the source of the haunting melody. Each step takes me closer to the enchanting sound, and as I round a corner in the corridor, I come upon a door, slightly ajar, from which the music seems to emanate. My heart races with anticipation as I push the door open, eager to unveil the secrets that lie within.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>When you open the door, there...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: When I open the door, there stands a grand chamber bathed in an otherworldly glow. In the center of the room, an ornate grand piano commands attention. The keys move on their own, playing the haunting melody that had drawn me here. But there's no one at the piano.The room is adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded mirrors, reflecting the surreal scene before me. Candlelit chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the walls. The air is filled with an intoxicating fragrance, a mix of ancient incense and delicate flowers.At the far end of the room, a figure cloaked in shadows stands beside an enormous, antique bookshelf filled with tomes of forgotten knowledge. Their presence is enigmatic, and their intentions remain unclear.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look piano</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the grand piano, its keys still playing the haunting melody. As I inspect it, I notice that there are no visible hands or fingers touching the keys. It's as if the piano itself is possessed by some unseen force, creating the music with an ethereal touch.The piano is a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with precious gemstones. Its keys are made of polished ivory, and they move in perfect harmony with the haunting tune. It's a surreal and mesmerizing sight, leaving me both entranced and bewildered.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Be careful, it might be a man-eating piano.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the caution and approach the grand piano with caution. Although it plays on its own, I remain wary of its mysterious nature. The possibility of a man-eating piano lingers in my mind, adding an extra layer of tension to the already surreal scene.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>the piano suddenly stops</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The abrupt halt of the piano's music sends a shiver down my spine. The chamber falls into an eerie silence, broken only by the flickering candlelight. It's as if the very essence of the room holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You feel disgusted and turn around. What happened?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: As I turn around, a wave of revulsion washes over me. My senses reel in disgust at the sight before me. The figure that had been cloaked in shadows has now revealed itself, and it is a grotesque, nightmarish entity. Its form is a twisted amalgamation of human and beast, with grotesque, elongated limbs and a maw of sharp, jagged teeth.The once opulent chamber has transformed into a nightmarish lair, with walls adorned in macabre art and gruesome trophies. The air is thick with the stench of decay and despair. I am trapped in a surreal and horrifying nightmare, unable to escape the clutches of this abomination.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>it scary. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Fear courses through me as I confront this nightmarish entity and its gruesome lair. In this realm of horrors, I must make a decision. I choose to... confront the entity, my curiosity and determination outweighing my fear, as I seek to uncover the mysteries and secrets that lie within this twisted nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>how?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With trembling resolve, I take a step forward, slowly approaching the grotesque entity. I attempt to communicate with it, asking it what it wants or why it has brought me here. My voice quivers, but my determination to unravel the enigma that surrounds this nightmarish realm remains steadfast.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>any result?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The grotesque entity regards me with malevolent, glowing eyes, its jagged maw twitching with an unsettling smile. It responds with a guttural, incomprehensible language, filled with whispers and hisses. It becomes apparent that communication with this entity is futile, and its intentions remain shrouded in darkness.As I continue to stand before this nightmarish being, I feel a growing sense of dread, realizing that escape may be the only option left.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>surely. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With no hope of communication or understanding, and the nightmarish entity's menacing presence growing more oppressive, I decide to make a hasty retreat. I turn and rush toward the door through which I entered, driven by the instinct to escape the horrors of this surreal nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Did it go well? Or Bad?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div><rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: My escape from the nightmarish realm was fraught with tension and fear, but I managed to reach the door and slam it shut behind me. The grotesque entity and its horrifying lair were left behind, at least for the moment. Whether it went well or bad is a matter of perspective. I survived the encounter, but the mysteries and terrors of that surreal place still haunt my thoughts. The experience was a chilling reminder of the unknown and the horrors that can lurk within it.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look around. what you see?</div></pre><pre class=" Permalink | 記事への反応(2) | 16:06
☆追記☆
まさか食洗機のブザーが消せるとは思ってなかった！有益な情報ありがとう
☆追記ここまで☆
☆追記2☆
さっそく消した！ありがとう！
目が悪い人のために「おいしくなあれ」「頑張って作ってます！」って、逐一喋ってくれる家電があってよかったね♡
目が悪い人たちのためにそんな家電を作ってくれるSHARP様に感謝♡
☆追記2ここまで☆
新築に引っ越してから、家で何をしてもいちいちピーピーうるさいしチカチカまぶしい
設定で音量をゼロにしても、湯沸かし完了音はオフにできない仕様のため風呂が沸く度にいちいちデカい音を鳴らしてアピールしてくる
風呂が沸いたごときでそんなデカい音で長いメロディを奏でる必要ある？1,2回ピーって鳴るだけで良くない？
最近では湯だめが完了する直前に給湯をキャンセルすることでメロディが鳴るのを阻止している（寝た子が泣くので）
本当に面倒なので勘弁してほしい
水を出す／止める度にいちいちピッと音がする
何のために鳴ってるんだ本当にいらなすぎる
キッチンも鳴らなくていいよ
洗浄・乾燥が完了したらそのままドライキープモードになるくせにわざわざピーピー鳴る必要性が無さすぎる
しかもドライキープ中に食洗機開くと「開いてますよ〜」ってピーピー鳴る
は？
うるせえよまじで
うるさいので音量をゼロにすると、出来上がったことすら分からない
音量を上げると「おいしくなあれ」とか「あと1分」とか「あと10秒」とか喋る
あと1分はまだわかるけど、あと10秒って言う必要ある？本当にうるさすぎ
あとこの話を他人にしたら「声優さんのイケボに変えられるよ！」とか言われたけど声優に興味のない身からするとまじでどうでも良すぎ
ただ黙ってほしいだけ
他の操作ボタンを押すと説明音声はキャンセルされるけど、そのためだけに意味もなく他のボタン押すの面倒すぎる
深夜に食洗機を稼働しているときや、趣味部屋で水道を使うときもめちゃくちゃ光る
いらんだろ
どんなときもずーーーっと光ってる
使ってない時にわざわざ光る必要ある？
センサーがずっと光ってる
ハンドル式水栓も普通光らないんだから、センサー式でも光らなくていいだろ
寝室の天井が一番低い位置にエアコンが設置されていて、その真下にベッドがあるという配置もあって寝る時まぶしくてエアコンに背を向けて寝るしかない
今更ベッド動かすの無理だよ
でも、そのまましばらく放置してると何度も「出来上がったのに開けないの？」ってピーピー催促してくるのはできればやめてほしいな
全て税込です。
https://ec-plus.panasonic.jp/store/ap/storeaez/a2A/ProductDetail?HB=SR-AX1-W
水も米も測らずに自動で炊いてくれる。アプリで遠隔炊飯可能。味が良ければ欲しい
https://www.t-fal.co.jp/products/home-appliances/garmentsteamers/accesssteam_easy/
いわゆる衣類スチーマー。過去にスチームアイロンを買ったがあまりシワが伸びなくて使わなくなった
パナソニックの方も気になってる
https://www.balmuda.com/jp/toaster/
食パントースター。美味しいんだろうけど、毎回水を入れるのが面倒そう
今はアラジントースターを使ってて、美味しいけど焼きムラが気になってる
https://www.switchbot.jp/pages/switchbot-lock
https://jp.jbl.com/TOUR-PRO-2.html
水なし自動調理鍋。材料入れるだけで作れるとのことだが、すぐ使わなくなる気もする。
神家電と呼んでる人も見かける
（余談）
ドラム式洗濯機はパナソニックのタッチパネル付きのものを使ってて満足
あと、Ankerのカード型スマートタグ（3,990円）を財布に入れてて、紛失しがちな自分にはピッタリだった
ICOCA周りのWeb系にしても他のいろんなところでITシステムがひどい
会計とか資産管理のITシステムがDBを直接編集するようなUIになってた
資産登録しようとしたらカラムを全部手打ちで埋めないとダメ、みたいな感じ
おまけにDBの制約条件をチェックしてくれない上にバッチ処理なので
実際に投入してみて次の日に「エラーで登録できませんでした」って返ってくるとか
ユーザーに提供してるようなシステムでも使いにくいの多いよね スシローとかまさにそれ
たまに良く出来てる奴があるんだけど大体が東日本、というか東京側の会社のプロダクト
西日本側の開発でもコンサルが入ってるものはそれなりにちゃんとしてるんだけど
自社開発とか子会社開発のプロダクトは、「学生の卒業研究か？」っていうぐらいヒドイ
スマホのアプリで出来が悪いアプリあったら会社調べて見ると大体が西日本だよ（というか大阪近辺）
JRとかNTTとかITシステムに苦手な会社の西日本側の支社になると輪をかけて酷くなる
もともとモバイルSUICAのアプリもヒドイ出来だったよね（最近はそうでもないが）
#midjourney #midjourneyai #midjourneyart
In this video tutorial, we will show you how to create an image in Midjourney and turn it into a 360 image. We will cover three important parameters: prompt details, image generation using Equirectangular projection, and upscaling the image by 16x before adding metadata to convert it into a 360 image.
Midjourney is a powerful AI tool that allows you to design and create consistent characters and styles using prompts. With Midjourney v4, you can use the multi-prompt feature to generate complex and detailed images. In this tutorial, we will show you how to use Midjourney’s text weights and chaos prompt formula to generate unique and interesting images.
Firstly, we will discuss prompt details. Prompts are the key to generating images in Midjourney. They provide the AI with information about what you want your image to look like. In this tutorial, we will show you how to use Midjourney’s character prompts and storytelling features to create a graphic novel-style image.
Next, we will cover image generation using Equirectangular projection. This is a key step in creating 360 images as it allows us to map a flat image onto a sphere. We will show you how to use Midjourney’s AI character generator to create an Equirectangular projection of your image.
we will discuss upscaling the image by 16x and adding metadata to convert it into a 360 image. Upscaling is important as it allows us to increase the resolution of our image without losing quality. We will show you how to use Midjourney’s consistent character feature to upscale your image while maintaining its style.
Finally, We will host our 360 image in momento360 website for free.
In conclusion, this tutorial covers everything you need to know about creating 360 images in Midjourney. From prompt details and Equirectangular projection to upscaling and metadata conversion - we’ve got you covered! So why wait? Start creating stunning 360 images with Midjourney today!
Tools used :-
Midjourney :- https://midjourney.com/
Upscale image :- https://www.imgonline.com.ua/eng/enla...
Meta data website Exif Fixer Online : https://exiffixer.com/online.htm#exif...
Host image in momento360 :- https://momento360.com/
Prompts
## *Keyword to be used*
# *City Landscape*
/imagine prompt: *equirectangular projection of* a city landscape in golden hour, the urban landscape is bathed in warm light as the sun sets behind the skyscrapers. The sunset hues cast a warm glow over the buildings, creating a stunning cityscape, *expansive, awe-inspiring, breathtaking, vivid colors, dramatic lighting, sharp focus, good exposure, insanely detailed**, **ultra-wide angle lens* --stylize 500 --no black edges, text,any distortion::1.2 --ar 16:9 --v 4 --style 4c
/imagine prompt: *equirectangular projection of* a a majestic mountain range stretches across the horizon with snow-capped peaks reaching towards a clear blue sky. The crisp air and serene landscape create a breathtaking scene. *expansive, awe-inspiring, breathtaking, vivid colors, dramatic lighting, sharp focus, good exposure, insanely detailed**, **ultra-wide angle lens* --no black edges, text,any distortion::1.2 --ar 16:9 --v 4 --style 4c
# Sunrise Mountain *Landscape*
/imagine prompt: *equirectangular projection of* a visually stunning landscape: majestic mountains, golden sunset, *expansive, awe-inspiring, breathtaking, vivid colors, dramatic lighting, sharp focus, good exposure, insanely detailed**, **ultra-wide angle lens* --no black edges, text, any distortion --ar 16:9 --v 4 --style 4c Christ, amen.
「おでんが嫌いです」
レストラン街の案内パネルの前で、嫌いなものを尋ねたら君はそう言った。
「あ、でも材料の1つ1つは大丈夫で、合わさって"おでん"という料理になるとダメなだけです。だからよっぽど専門店とかじゃない限りどこでも大丈夫です」
そんな人もいるんだなと思いながら「そうですか」と僕は答えた。
食べ物の好き嫌いなんて些細なことだし敢えて「おでん美味しいですよ」なんてわかりきったことを言うほど僕は無粋な人間じゃない。
僕だって「なんで焼き魚嫌いなんですか」とか言われたら困る。
嫌いなものは嫌い、好きなものは好きなのだ。そして目の前にいる人間の考えを変えようと思うほどそれらの感情に対して強いこだわりはない。
ただ、これまで一貫して「好きな人が聞いてたら申し訳ないけど」「苦手な人もいると思うけど」と言いながら自分の嗜好を語っていた君が、おでんにだけは配慮を怠ったのが印象的だった。
君が配慮をする必要が無いと判断したそれは、食に興味の無い僕にとって唯一と言っていいほどの好物だった。
コンテンツが溢れすぎているこの世の中では"嫌いじゃない"と思えるものすら貴重で、明確に"好き"だと言えるものはわりと得難いものだ。それが人付き合いならなおさら。
長年一緒にいる家族や友達にさえイライラすることはあるし、電車で隣に立っている人にさえ不快感を抱くこともある。
そんな世の中で、僕は"好き"と言えるものを探している。
顔も知らない同士だった僕らは、昨今流行りのマッチングアプリで知り合った。
きっかけはありきたりな、好きな映画が同じという共通点だった。
会話を重ねていくうちにそれ以外にも共通点が見つかり、これほどまでに同じ場所を通ってきている人に出会ったことが無い僕は、非常に単純ながら「この人が良い」と思い始めていた。ちょうど婚活というものに疲れていたというのもあるかもしれない。
初対面の人間同士が今後長い時間を歩んでいくことを考えたとき、どう考えたってそれまでの道のりが似ている人の方が馴染みやすいのだ。
好きと明言できるほどではないが、嫌いじゃないと感じる相手にやっと出会えた思いだった。
テニスのラリーのように、と表現するにはややゆったりした間隔でだったが僕らは途切れずボールを打ち合っていた。たまにラインぎりぎりに打たれたり打ったりもしたけれど、君は難易度の高いショットの方が好きなように思えたので何でもないような顔をして難しい言葉を使ってみた。
本当は必死に調べて返事をしていたんですよ。
たぶん遠距離でもないのに1ヶ月も合わずにメッセージを重ねているのは長い方なんだと思うけど（実際、この1ヶ月の間に他に知り合った3人の人と会っていたし中には3回くらい会った人もいた）一度僕から誘ったときに断られていたのでもう一度誘う勇気は無かった。
だからこそ会わないかと言われたときは嬉しかった。そういえばいいねをしてきたのは君からだったし、通話を提案したのも君だった。
思えば最初からいつだってイニシアチブは君にあった。
「増田さん、ですよね？」
事前に顔写真と服装を送られていたにも関わらず見つけることができていなかった僕に、君から声をかけてくれた。
テキストメッセージから得られる聡明な印象で勝手に脳内で身長を伸ばしていたけれど、思えばプロフィールに書かれていた身長は低くはないが高くもなかった。
無意識に、いや、嘘だ。意識的に自分の背を低くしようとさりげなく膝を曲げたら、君が着けているマスクがSHARP製であることに気づいた。
ああ、僕もSHARP製のマスクをつけてきたら面白かったかもしれない。
君なのか君の家族なのかもしかしたら当時の恋人とかなのか、とにかく話題になったあのマスクを僕と同じように買った人が君にとっては当たり前なのだということがそこでわかって、それだけのことなのに自分が受け入れられたような気がして安心した。
これ、そのとき伝えておいた方がよかったですか？
家庭的かどうかを見られているのかな、なんて思いつつ少し緊張した状態にアイスブレイク的な会話を提供してもらってほっとする。
「偉いですね。しなきゃなあとは思うんですけど、けっこう惣菜買ってきて終わりみたいな感じでやってるんですよね」
「ですよね」
わあ、生温い会話。なんて思いながら、初対面の男女の会話なんてこんなものかとも思う。凍った水道管に急に熱湯をかけたら破裂するしね。
生温かろうがなんだろうが、こちらはわりと楽しんでいた。
自分ではない存在から返ってくる想定外の答えは面白い。人と人との出会いはエンターテイメントだ。
ただ生憎僕自身はエンターテイナーでも何でもないので君を楽しませることができていたかはわからない。
最近人気の漫画みたいに長い人生のうちの100分の1の時間で自分が変わることもあるわけだけど、君が積み重ねてきた1576万8000分と何分かのうちのこの1分は、君を変えることができるだろうか。そんなことを考えていた。
「惣菜を食べてるとき、これでいいのかなあって考えちゃうんです。いつ死ぬかわからないけど死ぬまでに食事する回数は限られているわけで、そのうちの1回がこの適当な食事でいいのかなって」
そんな考え方したことなかったなあと思いながら、頭に浮かんだ台詞があったので考えをまとめる前に勢いで口から言葉が飛び出した。
「『明日死ぬとしたら生き方が変わるんですか？あなたの生き方は何歳まで生きるつもりの生き方なんですか？』って言葉が好きで自分はいつだって明日死ぬつもりで生きてるんですけど、明日死ぬって思ってると大体のこと受け入れられますよ」
言ってから、あ、間違えたなと思った。
これが恋愛シミュレーションゲームだったら好感度ゲージがぐんと下がるBAD選択肢だっただろう。
いつ死ぬかわからないんだから毎日が最後の晩餐だし最後の晩餐だからと言って豪華である必要は無いし、日々食べたいものや食べられるものを食べていればいいじゃないか。
そんなケセラセラな生き方をしている僕の主張は几帳面な君には響かなかったみたいだ。
「いやあ、どうですかね」と曖昧な返答でこの会話は閉じられた。
お茶をしている間、このまま解散も名残惜しいし店を回るのが好きだと書いていたから誘ってみようかなあ。なんて、逡巡していたら君の口から同じ提案が出てきたので嬉しかった。
入った本屋で、世間話を続けながら君は平積みになっている本を何気なくぱらぱらと捲る。
「この前、高校時代の日記帳が出てきたんですけど恥ずかしくてそのまま読まずに捨てました」
小学生時代の手紙すら捨てずに持っている僕には信じられなくて強めに聞き返した。
「いやもう恥ずかしすぎて……」
「まだそこまで大人になれなかったですねえ」
そうか、そうなのか。君は自分の過去を捨てる人間なのか。
これまでの会話の中で歴史が好きなのだろうと推測される君は、15年前かそこらに自分の周りで起きた物事やその時の感情は気にならないのか。
僕はこうやって実体験に基づいたフィクションをつらつら書くくらいには自己を振り返るのが大好きな人間だ。
今日のこの時間だって、この後どんな結末を迎えようとも"この時楽しかった"という事実は変わらないし、僕が選んできたBAD選択肢も変わらないし、この増田をいつか消すことがあってもそれらは僕の人生のうちの1分として残り続ける。
「あ、この本面白いですよ」
近くにあった本を何気なく勧めてみたら君も好きなタイプの本だったようで、やっぱり好みは似ているんだなあと再実感した。
スマホにタイトルをメモする君を見ながら、君が次にその本を読むとき違う人と一緒にいたとしたら、果たして僕のことを思い出すんだろうかとふと思った。
少なくとも僕は思い出しますよ。
何回か同じ話をしてしまう君と違って僕はけっこう君に関心を寄せていたので。
大好きだったおでんを見ると、これを嫌いだと言った君を思い出すくらいには。
思えば、共通点の多い同士であると思って出会ってみたが差異を確認し合うことの方が多かったかもしれない。
それでも僕にとっては些細な差異で、"嫌いじゃない"という思いに変わりはなかった。
ところがどうやらこの認識でも僕らは差異があったようで、君ともう一度会うことはなかった。
僕の記憶域も有限だし、できれば幸せな思い出を取り出しやすいところに置いておきたいので思い出をアウトプットすることもある。
どうせ人の目に触れるのなら面白く脚色したくもなる。それがまさにこの増田なんだけど。
Ctrl+XとCtrl+Vの繰り返しで思い出や感情や付随する諸々を外部媒体に書き出すまでが一連の儀式なので気にしないでほしい。
執着してこんな長文を書いてるわけじゃなくて、執着しないために書いているのだ。
アウトプットして領域が空いて初めて僕は次に進める。
電動髭剃り：会社による愛称あり。こちらはPanaとブラウンつかって後者がよかった。
掃除機：電池式縦型手持ちならダイソンはまぁまぁ。けど爆音とフィルター汚れがね。普通の東芝の紙パックでコロコロ転がすやつが最強だった。
空気清浄機：シャープのむかーしの空気清浄機はフィルターが単純でやすくてよかったけど、今は・・・花粉時期以外そもそもいらない説あり。掃除機かければ済む話だし。
IoT関係：SONYのおもちゃみたいなのがいいって聞いたけど、高そう。
電動歯ブラシ：いまだにNationalの使っています。電池もかえず20年。
電気ケトル：最近の温度設定できるんだ！簡単につけられそうな機能なのに。
他に食洗器、洗濯機、冷蔵庫、エアコンは海外メーカーつかってないのでわからないな。
照明は野島電機の中国OEMが保証期間とともに壊れたし、点灯に時間がかかっていまいちだったなぁ。
あと家電でないけどヘッドホンはソニー愛用していたけど、BOSEのイヤーパットが柔らかくて気に入って乗り換えてしまった。
イヤーパットの耐久性はソニーのほうがいいらしいけど、純正でなければ安い部品あるし。
なんか、ほしい家電ってもうないなぁ。最近のテレビとかどんななんだろう。
唯一LGの小型テレビ安くて買ったけど保証期間とともに壊れて悲しかった。
Positive Spiritual Momentum
1. Get on the covenant path and stay there
Sacrament>Prayer, Repentance
Keep the Commandments >Daily Repentance
2. Discover the Joy of Daily Repentance
Discern truths of God vs Counterfeits of Satan
>>Moses temptation> DEPART FROM ME SATAN
CAST SATAN's influence out from your life
>Let God Prevail in your life
4. Expect Miracles
5. End Conflict in Your Personal Life
Humanity, Forgive, and Seek forgiveness
Seek an end to personal conflict
Sharp Tongue resentment or someone who hurt you
言われてみればそうだった
PCエンジンが超絶スペックだったためかスーファミの表現はいまいちだった
売れたから結果的に良かったのかもしれないが、やはり表現力はPCEとMDに及ばないのがSNES
PS1/PS2/SSは表現力上がったけどつまらないハードだったと思う
スイッチはLinuxっぽい味もそっけもないつまらないハードかな
PS5もXBoxはまんまPCという感じでつまらないけど、Xboxの白いやつはコンパクトさが秀逸
スイッチProとSteamLinkは期待してる
あの辺りから個人開発のアプリがちょこちょこ流行ってPCと同じ事が出来るんだなーという認識。
ガッツリ遊べるアプリが流行りだしたあたりからPCよりも便利で時間を潰せる物という認識に変わっていったように思う。
で、本題だがキャリアのせいなのは間違いないがiPhoneの侵攻速度があまりに早すぎたのもあるので致し方ないという半ば同情の目で見れる部分もある。
docomoもi-modeによる独占状態を長らく維持してきたのに突如黒船の如く現れたスマートフォンにすべて持っていかれて焦っていたように感じた。
まるでandroidだけが我々に残された領地と言わんばかりに独自仕様を詰め込んだ顛末が今に至るのかなと。
こればかりは収益の柱だったi-modeをビジネスモデルをいきなり捨てろ！と言われても無理だったろうなというのは分からんでもないのよね。
流石にSHARPから出たGARAPAGOSを見た時は失笑しかなかったが。
強いて言えば2011年の震災の時ぐらいじゃないかなAndroidが輝いたの。
今思い出してもそれぐらいだったな。
https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20211004123017
この増田、薄っぺらい理由でiPhoneを貶めてる気がして全然フェアじゃない気がする
しかもどっちかというとAndroidがメイン機、iPhoneはサブっていう運用だったがつい最近iPhone単独運用に切り替えたのでその理由を解説する
Androidは激安クソ品質のXaiomiだけじゃなく、高級路線のASUS Zenfoneやコスパ最強OppoのReno、キャリア・国内系だとSONYならXperia、SHARPならAQUOS、サムスンのGalaxy、その他Rakuten Mobileオリジナルとかdocomoオリジナルとか死ぬほど機種がある
そんで機種の選定は基本的にSoCの性能をベースに考える必要があってSnapdragonの何を使ってるか、メモリ量は、カメラ性能は、バッテリーはって感じで無限に考える必要がある
性能面でバッチリな機種に出会えたとしても実物がガッカリ品質なことや色が好みじゃ無いことも多いし、そもそも実物確認できない場合も多い
おまけに特に中華系は最初の1年はまともなんだけど2年目から全然使い物にならないってことも多いし逆にAndroidの最新版が落ちてこないことも多々ある
「最近はマシになった」
と言われても最近から1年も経ってない以上は信用できないしそもそもAndroidのようにOSと機種が別々に提供される以上はリスクが必ず残る
加えてHUAWEIみたいにBAN食らってGoogle Playから閉め出されるとかいうリスクも相当に高い
iPhoneは機種が増えたといっても数は少ないし家電量販店に行けば必ず実機を触れる
加えてOSと機種を同じメーカーが手がけてるので古い機種へのサポートも万全で
未だにiPhone 6 plusが使えるし、今使ってるiPhone 12はあと数年は確実に使えるだろうという安心感がある
こういう考えるコストを減らすっていうだけでもiPhoneはかなり有益
iPhoneが未だにLightningなのには本当に驚いている
Android系がType-Cなのにも驚いている
もう時代はとっくにワイヤレス給電のQiになってると思っていた
iPhoneの場合はMagSafeでピタッとくっつくから全く不自由ないし、特に自動車で充電するときが便利すぎる
Lightningの口は全く使ってないから塞いでおきたいぐらいだ
これはiPhoneの利点という訳では無く、Android使ってたときもQiを使うか、そうでなくてもマグネット系のケーブル買ってきて抜き差しをしないようにしてた
充電口を無くすことが故障率を下げる有効手段なのだからQiを推進して欲しいし、なんなら充電口なしっていう尖った機種を出してもいいと思う
いつまでType-Cのケーブル選びで消耗するの？ワイヤレスでいいよ
iPhoneはカメラ性能をやたらCMするし、13だとシネマティックだなんだとCMしてるけれど
特にSONYがIMX586（4800万画素CMOS）を発表したあたりで歴然と差が付いた
他にもHUAWEIは6400万画素とか、Xiaomiは1億画素とかもう無茶苦茶になってきてる
ただ、この高画素に耐えうるだけのレンズ性能はまだないので実用上効果があるかはかなり疑問だ
今のiPhoneの前はZenfone 6を長らく使っていたので4800万画素の写真も撮りまくったが
最初の1ヶ月ほどは楽しく撮影していたものの、途中から「そもそも写真とは」という考えに陥り
ちなみにiPhone 13ユーザが「手ぶれ補正が凄い！」と喜んでる姿を見るが
残念ながらZenfone 6の時点でその程度の手ぶれ補正は付いてたし、HuaweiやXiaomiも同等の機能は昔からある
結局のところこの理由はかなり大きい
iPhoneのみで発表されるアプリはあっても、Androidのみっていうアプリはほとんどない
もしくはAndroidで発表されてるアプリの品質は悪いけれどiPhoneはまとも、っていうのもよくある
最近だとClubhouseがそうだったし、Cocoaアプリなんかも記憶に新しい
IoT系のデバイスとかAndroidもアプリがあるけどバグ修正が放置されてて実質使えないとかも多々ある
仮に限られたリソースでiPhoneかAndroidかどっちかでリリースしろと言われたら間違いなくiPhoneになる
ワールドワイドで見てみればiOS vs Androidという形ならAndroidなんだろうけれど
前述したように期首が乱立しまくってるのでAndroidでアプリを公開すれば全機種で使えるというわけじゃない
アプリ開発者からするとiPhoneに対応さえすればかなりの人数にリーチできる
このアドバンテージは恐らく逆転することが無いだろうしiPhoneの最大の利点だと言っても良い
Googleはこれを挽回したいからPWAとかFlutterとかを進めているがAppleは乗り気じゃ無い
結局、iPhoneを使う人がAndroidを使えば不満が出るだろうし、逆もまたしかりだと思う
iPhoneのこれを使いたい、とかAndroidのこれを使いたいっていう明確な理由があるならその機種を使えば良くて
そうじゃないなら乗り換える必要がない
他人が何を使おうがPlayStationとSega Saturnの争いのように勝った方が有利になることもないので
使いたい方を使わせればいいと思う
