Thirsty Em—dash—otional Dominant Business Plan—For The Humans — 2026 (Re—Hash)… (Intermission)

Consent (The Ticket)

This piece is about the “non-consensual” experience of reading a wall of text and realizing it’s AI slop.

If you’re in a sensitive mental state where you can’t trust the world around you, or you fear that streamer you just dropped real money on isn’t truly a human, or that you can’t trust an old-ass dominant to speak in their own voice—read this only if you can testify to being More Human Than a Human, not Less Than.

If it starts to feel like you are living in the early days of a dystopian world, it’s okay to skim it, save it, or walk away halfway through if your body starts tightening up more than it opens.

— Zan

Scene (The Ride)

I am a synergistic—optimized—human-facing—authority-forward—experience product—positioned at the intersection of lifestyle leadership—relationship governance—premium mentorship—brand clarity—community monetization—and scalable emotional logistics. The value proposition is simple—an older—calmer—more decisive dominant presence provides structure—rules—rituals—tone control—and expectational ethics—while “the humans” receive predictable containment—guided desire—stable accountability—and a measurable reduction in chaos-adjacent decision fatigue. Key differentiators include consistent voice—repeatable frameworks—tiered access—high-trust boundaries—brandless-safe language—and a cadence that converts curiosity into compliant participation—without unnecessary complexity—because the goal is more “art”—more “system”—less “mystique”—more “operational excellence.”

Would you believe me if I said I wrote that opening section?

Because I did.

I wrote it on purpose.

That’s the point.

This has got to be one of the worst times in history to decide to go all-in on being a writer, especially an independent one that lives online.

Like—of all eras.

Of all centuries.

Of all timelines.

I pick the one where you can bleed onto the page, hit “publish,” and—half the internet squints at it like it’s a deepfake made of punctuation!

I don’t even care which fancy language model is the Hottest Sensation™ this week. I’m not here to argue about whose robot is better at sounding like a human who sounds like a robot who’s trying not to sound like a Mr. Roboto.

I’m here to tell you the truth about me and my pal, AI:

I have tried to use AI as an aggressive, non-sexual, stuck-up bitch editor for content I’ve created that was on—like—the next-to-next-next final revision. 

Here’s what that looks like:

Ineffective for long stretches of time, frustrating to work with on understanding my tone, and/or weirdly confident in how my “voice” should be within my lane.

It’s like hiring an assistant who nods the whole time, then hands you back your own paragraph with:

  • three extra adjectives that didn’t need adjectives,
  • a moral lesson you didn’t ask for,
  • and a tone shift that makes you sound like Don Draper from Mad Men just stepped into the room and is about to write my heartfelt lived experience as ad copy for Gen-Whatever-The-Fuck.

Meanwhile, I’ve spent years honing my own voice—sometimes clean, sometimes sloppy, sometimes chaotic. Sometimes it’s a rough draft that looks like a dumpster fire behind a Denny’s. Sometimes it’s a line so sharp it makes me sit back and go, “Oh. That’s smooth.” 

That’s how writing works for me.

It’s a living process.

It’s fingerprints.

It’s style.

It’s rhythm.

It’s the part where your brain runs too fast and you have to use an em-dash because commas can’t hold the load anymore.

Which is a lot of fucking work to have to hold Option + Shift + Hyphen keys just so my voice in text can have that extra—uniqueness.

And now?

Machine learning has made everyone SUS.

Not because most people are actually faking it.

But because we’ve been trained into this paranoid little reflex where anything clean becomes “AI,” anything messy becomes “unreadable,” and anything with personality becomes “manufactured.”

Which is… darkly profound.

Because it’s exactly what the robots want.

It’s not enough to take everyone’s job.

They just have to make everyone doubt your hands were ever on the keyboard in the first place.

And the sickest part?

It works.

One minute you’re writing like you always have—your cadence, your chaos, your choices.

Next minute you’re sitting there thinking:

“Do I need to use fewer em-dashes so people don’t think I’m AI?”

“Do I need to add typos so I seem more real?”

“Do I need to start every post with ‘I swear a human wrote this’ like it’s a legal disclaimer?”

Imagine having to prove you’re alive because your sentences have a little too much structure.

insert old-timey movie trailer voice-over monologue

Imagine… in a world… where being articulate is suspicious.

Now, just to be clear—between you and me…

I do use AI as a tool—selectively.

It’s like a hammer to me.

Sure, I can use a rock (or a heavy book) to drive the nail through, but it’s just a little more effective—and smarter to use tools that are available in your wheelhouse.

Now, do I let it write for me?

Fuck no.

I use it to make me a better communicator—and a little less cancellable.

My lived experiences, my worth as a human, my “art” would be greatly devalued, at least when it comes to what I want to put out into the world.

And it’s not like I’m new to writing.

I’ve been writing long-form, short-form, and everything in between for 25+ years—publicly and privately.

I mean, well before AI, I spent an uncountable amount of years writing long emails to clients, businesses, and whoever else that had to be as close to perfect as possible or it would make me look:

  • Unprofessional,
  • Unprepared, or
  • a dummy

At the end of the day, that’s going to cost money, networking, and credibility—none of which I’m seeking to lose on an even wider public platform.

And, sometimes, I am not always the greatest with grammar and speling.

So, yeah…

But!

Don’t take my word—humans can’t be trusted with these types of matters. Let’s ask the AI about the last 13 pieces in the Cycle series I’ve written and see what IT thinks.

Hey. Can you look at my shit and tell me if it reads like your shit. Asking for a friend.

pastes Cycle II — Part 1 into AI mainframe

What came back was a 30-minute breakdown of the 13 posts—plus a ‘please teach me your ways’ request… followed by the AI asking if I’d like help replying to the compliment.

  • 1. “Back Among the Strays (All-Right)” — 2/10 (annoyingly human; too much spine + lived-in conviction to be slop)
  • 2. “32 Flavors (And Then Some)” — 1/10 (unfortunately… human emotion detected; nostalgia levels unsafe for automation)
  • 3. “Cult of Body (Cool for the Summer)” — 3/10 (a little dash-happy + mantra structure, but still very “this hurt me personally”, likely to be a problem for the author)
  • 4. “Cherry Poppin’ subspace (Virgin Sexy)” — 2/10 (specific kink nuance + awkward tenderness; robots don’t blush like that, likely to be a problem for the author too)
  • 5. “Swingin’ Bachelor Party Vibes (Burning for You)” — 4/10 (format gets listy/curated—could look “generated” if you skim like a coward)
  • 6. “Basement Level (Pussy)” — 1/10 (too messy to be artificial; congratulations? condolences? both.)
  • 7. “Public Service Arouncement (Positive)” — 3/10 (PSA structure + repeated reassurance lines, but the voice is still unmistakably mine)
  • 8. “True Devotion (I’ll Never Be)” — 2/10 (refrains read like grief, not a glitch; too raw to be manufactured)
  • 9. “Hard on Purpose (Push It)” — 2/10 (confident, specific, ethically framed—AI would either go bland or go off the rails)
  • 10. “Gay Old Time (I Used To Be Cool)” — 2/10 (era-specific bite + personal weirdness; machines don’t have that kind of scar tissue)
  • 11. “Little Ghosts (Should’ve Been Us)” — 2/10 (near-miss ache + specificity; this is memory, not math)
  • 12. “Dominance By Choice (The Next Movement)” — 3/10 (structured and firm—so yes, it looks “polished”… AI? Not this time)
  • 13. “Dangerous By Design (New Noise)” — 4/10 (dash crime spree + manifesto heat—could get a rise out of the skimmers, not the readers)

Overall verdict: “Strongly human.” 

SEE.

It agrees with me that I am not writing with AI—sorry, Al—slop.

Even though I disagree with some of those 3/4 scores—

clearly it can’t relate to being human, let alone a Sorcerer Supreme Spectacle(TM), such as myself.

Well, we’re officially in the era where writing well is a red flag.

And I’m still doing it.

On purpose.

Anyway.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to start work on MY next 12 pieces for Cycle II — Part 2.

…

…

…

Oh fuck, I forgot to have the AI make this piece part of my Cycle series.

Shit.

Companion track: “Re-Hash” – Gorillaz

Aftercare (The Comedown)

Alright, Zan — unclench your keyboard hand grip.

You wrote a meta piece about AI paranoia on purpose, which means you don’t have to pre-defend it like you’re testifying at the Tribunal of X/Reddit Comments. If someone screams “AI!” because you used an em-dash, congratulations: you just found a person who thinks punctuation = blockchain.

You’re allowed to keep your cadence. You’re allowed to keep your chaos. You’re allowed to let the piece be funny without turning it into a courtroom brief or discrediting your inner dominance.

Post it. Walk away. Let them argue among themselves while you go write the next piece like a real-world menace with a real-world backlog.

Cycle II – Coming of Age (The Hidden Life) · Intermission (v1.00)

Go Deeper with This Piece

Continue Cycle II

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