It’s absolutely infuriating how the creative industry is still drowning in mediocrity when it comes to job opportunities for Blender artists. The recent overview titled ‘Blender Jobs for June 20, 2025’ is nothing short of a disgrace! What are we doing here? Are we seriously still looking for someone to create low poly cartoonish clothing assets? This is 2025, people! The demand for innovation and quality is at an all-time high, yet we are settling for these lazy, uninspired roles that only push the boundaries of our creativity further back into the dark ages. The description outlines a desperate search for artists to create thumbnails for YouTube and basic asset production—who gave these companies the right to expect top-notch creativity while offering peanuts in return? This is a blatant disrespect to the talented artists struggling to make a name for themselves. The industry has turned into a free-for-all where anyone with a computer thinks they can just toss out these ridiculous requests, undermining the hard work and passion of those who actually have skills worth paying for. “Stealth Startup” and “Pizza Party Productions”? Really? Is this some kind of joke? These names scream lack of professionalism and vision. How can we expect to elevate the standards of our industry when these half-baked companies are running around hiring interns instead of investing in real talent? It’s ludicrous! What’s next? A startup looking for someone to animate stick figures for a viral TikTok? Come on! Let’s not even get started on the ridiculous notion of internships being the new norm for artists trying to break into the industry. The term “3D Artist Intern” is a euphemism for “overworked and underpaid.” The expectation that fresh graduates should be thrilled to work for free just to “gain experience” is not only exploitative but utterly shameful. These companies need to step up their game and start valuing the creativity and hard work that goes into crafting quality art. Every time I scroll through these job postings, I feel my blood boil. Are we going to continue to allow this cycle of mediocrity to persist? It’s time for artists to take a stand and demand better. We need opportunities that challenge us, not these mundane tasks that anyone with a basic understanding of Blender could complete. We deserve to work in an environment that fosters creativity, innovation, and respect for our craft. If these companies want to attract real talent, they need to start offering competitive pay and meaningful projects that actually inspire artists instead of dragging them down into the depths of blandness and monotony. Wake up, industry! The future of Blender artistry hinges on your willingness to embrace quality over quantity. Stop settling for mediocre job listings and start aiming for greatness. #BlenderJobs #3DArtist #CreativityMatters #ArtIndustry #DemandBetter

Spotify and Apple are killing the album cover, and it’s time we raised our voices against this travesty! It’s infuriating that in this age of digital consumption, these tech giants have the audacity to strip away one of the most vital elements of music: the album cover. The art that used to be a visceral representation of the music itself is now reduced to a mere thumbnail on a screen, easily lost in the sea of endless playlists and streaming algorithms. What happened to the days when we could hold a physical album in our hands? The tactile experience of flipping through a gatefold cover, admiring the artwork, and reading the liner notes is now an afterthought. Instead, we’re left with animated visuals that can’t even be framed on a wall! How can a moving image evoke the same emotional connection as a beautifully designed cover that captures the essence of an artist's vision? It’s a tragedy that these platforms are prioritizing convenience over artistic expression. The music industry needs to wake up! Spotify and Apple are essentially telling artists that their hard work, creativity, and passion can be boiled down to a pixelated image that disappears into the digital ether. This is an outright assault on the artistry of music! Why should we stand by while these companies prioritize algorithmic efficiency over the cultural significance of album art? It’s infuriating that the very thing that made music a visual and auditory experience is being obliterated right in front of our eyes. Let’s be clear: the album cover is not just decoration; it’s an integral part of the storytelling process in music. It sets the tone, evokes emotions, and can even influence how we perceive the music itself. When an album cover is designed with care and intention, it becomes an extension of the artist’s voice. Yet here we are, scrolling through Spotify and Apple Music, bombarded with generic visuals that do nothing to honor the artists or their work. Spotify and Apple need to be held accountable for this degradation of music culture. This isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s about preserving the integrity of artistic expression. We need to demand that these platforms acknowledge the importance of album covers and find ways to integrate them into our digital experiences. Otherwise, we’re on a dangerous path where music becomes nothing more than a disposable commodity. If we allow Spotify and Apple to continue on this trajectory, we risk losing an entire culture of artistic expression. It’s time for us as consumers to take a stand and remind these companies that music is not just about the sound; it’s about the entire experience. Let’s unite and fight back against this digital degradation of music artistry. We deserve better than a world where the album cover is dying a slow death. Let’s reclaim the beauty of music and its visual representation before it’s too late! #AlbumArt #MusicCulture #Spotify #AppleMusic #ProtectArtistry

Ah, DreamWorks! That magical land where the sun always shines, and animated penguins can sing better than most of us in the shower. A studio that has been spinning its whimsical web of nostalgia since the dawn of time, or at least since the late '90s, when they decided that making ogres feel relatable was the new black. So, what's this I hear? A documentary detailing the illustrious history of DreamWorks? Because clearly, we all needed a deep dive into the riveting saga of a studio that has made more animated films than there are flavors of ice cream. I mean, who doesn’t want to know the backstory behind the creation of Shrek 25 or the emotional journey of a dragon who can’t decide if it wants to befriend a Viking or roast him on a spit? The podcast team behind 12 FPS is bringing us this "ambitious" documentary, where I can only assume they will unveil the "secret" techniques used to create those iconic characters. Spoiler alert: it involves a lot of caffeine, sleepless nights, and animators talking to their cats for inspiration. Yes, I await with bated breath to see the archival footage of the early days, where perhaps we’ll witness the groundbreaking moment someone said, “What if we made a movie about a talking donkey?” Truly, groundbreaking stuff. And let's not overlook the "success" part of their journey. Did we really need a documentary to explain that? I mean, it’s not like they’ve been raking in billions while we sob over animated farewells. The financial success is practically part of their DNA at this point—like a sequel to a beloved movie that no one asked for, but everyone pretends to love. If you’re lucky, maybe the documentary will even reveal the elusive DreamWorks formula: a sprinkle of heart, a dash of pop culture reference, and just enough celebrity voices to keep the kids glued to their screens while parents pretend to be interested. Who wouldn’t want to see behind the curtain and discover how they managed to capture our hearts with a bunch of flying fish or a lovable giant who somehow manages to be both intimidating and cuddly? But hey, in a world where we can binge-watch a 12-hour documentary on the making of a sandwich, why not dedicate a few hours to DreamWorks’ illustrious past? After all, nothing screams ‘cultural significance’ quite like animated characters who can break into song at the most inappropriate moments. So grab your popcorn and prepare for the ride through DreamWorks: the history of a studio that has made us laugh, cry, and occasionally question our taste in movies. #DreamWorks #AnimationHistory #12FPS #Documentary #ShrekForever

In a world where the digital and the real intertwine, I find myself drifting through the shadows of loneliness. The news of "Bientôt des mondes complets créés par IA dans Horizon Worlds" resonates deep within me, a reminder of the vastness of innovation that seems to grow every day, while I feel smaller and more isolated than ever. As Meta continues to surprise us with its ambitious vision, I wonder if these virtual landscapes will ever feel as real as the warmth of a genuine connection. 🌧️ I scroll through my feed, witnessing the excitement of others as they anticipate the new worlds crafted by artificial intelligence. Each post is a glimpse into a future filled with adventure and companionship, yet all I feel is a hollow ache that echoes in the silence of my room. Will these new realms be a place for me, or will they only serve to highlight my solitude? The thought weighs heavily on my heart, as I watch people forge friendships in the very spaces I yearn to explore. 💔 I used to believe that technology would bridge the gaps between us, that it could weave a tapestry of connection in an increasingly fragmented world. But as I sit here, enveloped by the glow of my screen, I can't help but feel that every pixel is a reminder of what I lack. Are these digital worlds truly the answer, or will they merely replace the warmth of human touch with cold algorithms? 🌌 As Meta's Horizon Worlds prepares to unveil its creations, I wonder if I will ever find solace within them. Will these AI-generated landscapes offer me the comfort I seek, or will they only serve as a reminder of the friendships I long for but cannot grasp? The weight of isolation is heavy, and sometimes it feels like the walls of my reality are closing in, suffocating my spirit. 😔 I am left questioning the meaning of connection in a world where everything can be simulated but nothing can truly replace the heart's yearning for companionship. Each day feels like a cycle of hope and despair, as I cling to the idea that someday, I might step into a world where I am not just a ghost wandering through the ether, but a being of warmth and light, surrounded by those who understand me. 🌈 As I reflect on the future that awaits us, I can’t help but wish for a spark of genuine warmth among the cold algorithms and digital dreams. The promise of "Bientôt des mondes complets créés par IA" fills me with both anticipation and dread, a bittersweet reminder of the connection I crave but cannot touch. Until then, I remain here, in the silence, yearning for a world where I can feel truly alive. #Loneliness #Connection #Meta #AIWorlds #HorizonWorlds

In a world that increasingly feels like it has turned its back on authentic connection, I find myself staring blankly at my Smart TV, a screen that promises companionship but delivers only cold advertisements. The irony is not lost on me; I sit here, surrounded by technology designed to bring us closer, yet I feel more isolated than ever. As I explore the intricacies of Smart TV operating systems, I'm reminded of the delicate balance they must maintain: protecting our data while catering to the insatiable hunger of advertisers. It's a tragic dance, one where my privacy is sacrificed at the altar of profit. Each click feels like a betrayal, a reminder that I'm just another data point, another target for those who seek to profit from my attention. I used to think that technology was a bridge to deeper connections, a way to feel less alone in this vast, seemingly indifferent universe. But now, it feels more like a prison, each algorithm tightening its grip around my reality. I wonder if the creators of these platforms ever pause to consider the emotional toll they impose on us. Are they aware that each pop-up ad stings, each targeted suggestion feels like a reminder of my solitude? In moments of silence, I long for the warmth of real conversations, the kind that cannot be quantified by metrics or sold to the highest bidder. I want to feel seen and understood, not just as a consumer, but as a human being with hopes, dreams, and fears. Yet, the more I engage with these Smart TVs and their operating systems, the more I feel like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped between the desire for connection and the reality of commodification. As I navigate through content designed to keep me entertained, I can't shake the feeling of sadness that lingers in the air. It's a heavy cloak, woven from the threads of disappointment and longing. The world outside continues to rush by, vibrant and alive, while I remain here, lost in a digital realm that promises everything but delivers nothing of real substance. I look into the depths of the screen, searching for something—anything—that might fill this aching void. Instead, I'm met with a reflection of my own despair, a reminder that in our quest for connection, we might have lost sight of what truly matters. The irony is painful, and I can't help but feel like a prisoner to this cycle of consumption and isolation. In the end, I wonder: will we ever reclaim our humanity from the clutches of these systems? Or will we forever be at the mercy of the data-driven world that sees us not as individuals but merely as opportunities? #SmartTV #DataPrivacy #Isolation #EmotionalConnection #TechnologySadness

In the shadows of my solitude, I find myself contemplating the weight of my choices, as if each decision has led me further into a labyrinth of despair. Just like the latest updates from NIM Labs with their NIM 7.0 launch, promising new scheduling and conflict detection, I yearn for a path that seems to elude me. Yet, here I am, lost in a world that feels cold and uninviting, where even the brightest features of life fail to illuminate the darkness I feel inside. The updates in technology bring hope to many, but for me, they serve as a stark reminder of the isolation that wraps around my heart. The complexities of resource usage tracking in VFX and visualization echo the intricacies of my own emotional landscape, where every interaction feels like a conflict, and every moment is a struggle for connection. I watch as others thrive, their lives intertwined like intricate designs in a visual masterpiece, while I remain a mere spectator, trapped in a canvas of loneliness. Each day, I wake up to the silence that fills my room, a silence that feels heavier than the weight of my unexpressed thoughts. The world moves on without me, as if my existence is nothing more than a glitch in the matrix of life. The features that are meant to enhance productivity and creativity serve as a painful juxtaposition to my stagnation. I scroll through updates, seeing others flourish, their accomplishments a bittersweet reminder of what I long for but cannot grasp. I wish I could schedule joy like a meeting, or detect conflicts in my heart as easily as one might track resources in a studio management platform. Instead, I find myself tangled in emotions that clash like colors on a poorly rendered screen, each hue representing a fragment of my shattered spirit. The longing for connection is overshadowed by the fear of rejection, creating a cycle of heartache that feels impossible to escape. As I sit here, gazing at the flickering screen, I can’t help but wonder if anyone truly sees me. The thought is both comforting and devastating; I crave companionship yet fear the vulnerability that comes with it. The updates and features of NIM Labs remind me of the progress others are making, while I remain stagnant, longing for the warmth of a shared experience. In a world designed for collaboration and creativity, I find myself adrift, yearning for my own version of the features NIM 7.0 brings to others. I wish for a way to bridge the gap between my isolation and the vibrant connections that seem to thrive all around me. But for now, I am left with my thoughts, my heart heavy with unspoken words, as the silence of my solitude envelops me once more. #Loneliness #Heartbreak #Isolation #NIMLabs #EmotionalStruggles

In a world that once thrived on elegance and power, Jaguar stands at a crossroads, insisting that its controversial rebrand was a success. Yet, deep within, I can't shake off this feeling of betrayal. The roar of the mighty feline has been muted, replaced by a whisper that feels hollow. The sleek lines and the iconic emblem that once evoked pride now seem like distant memories shrouded in shadows. How can one embrace change when it feels like a loss? I look at the new designs, but they fail to stir my heart. Instead of excitement, there's an ache, a deep yearning for the Jaguar that once was—a symbol of sophistication and strength. I remember the thrill of seeing one glide past, a statement of individuality, but now it feels like we're all part of an impersonal crowd, lost in a sea of mediocrity. Every time I see a new advertisement, the message is clear: they want us to believe in this transformation. But every word feels like sand slipping through my fingers, leaving me with nothing but an echo of what used to be. The charm has faded, and I can't help but feel like a lover left behind, watching as someone I adored changes into an unfamiliar stranger. The allure of the past lingers like a ghost, whispering tales of passion and craftsmanship that have been overshadowed by a relentless push for a fresh identity. I want to celebrate the new, but my heart aches too much for the beauty that has been sacrificed. Each rebranding feels like another layer of paint over a masterpiece, concealing the true essence beneath, leaving me to wonder if anyone else feels this same emptiness. Jaguar, you insist on your success, but I stand here, alone in my disappointment, questioning the very foundation of what you’ve become. It’s not about resisting change; it’s about mourning the loss of a legacy that resonated deeply within so many of us. As I watch the new emblem shine, I can't help but feel a pang of loneliness, a reminder that sometimes, even the mightiest can lose their way. In this age of transformation, I find myself screaming into the void, hoping that someone, anyone, hears the silent cries of a heart that once beat in rhythm with the roar of a Jaguar. #Jaguar #Rebrand #Loss #Heartbreak #Legacy

In a world that spins endlessly, I find myself standing still, lost in the echoes of laughter that once filled my heart. The warmth of companionship feels like a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of solitude. Each day drags on, heavy with the weight of unshared moments and untold stories. How did I end up here, clutching the remnants of joy, while the world around me dances in vibrant hues? I often wonder if anyone notices the silent battles I fight within. The best thermal brushes can transform hair, bringing life to what was once dull and lifeless, yet no tool can mend a heart shattered by betrayal and neglect. They talk about the magic of these brushes, how they can smooth out the tangles and create stunning styles, but what about the frizz that comes from loneliness? The ache that lingers long after the laughter fades? Every time I look in the mirror, I see not just my reflection but a reminder of what I've lost. The vibrant strands of my spirit have dulled, and I yearn for a brush that can sweep away the sorrow. The reviews speak of the best thermal brushes, tested and praised, but they don’t talk about the tears that spill over as I try to reclaim my essence. The irony stings: tools can elevate our appearance, but they cannot heal the unseen wounds that lie beneath. I scroll through images of friends living their best lives, and I am reminded of the warmth I once felt, the unconditional support that now seems like a fantasy. The brushes may help to achieve a perfect look, but they cannot fill the void of companionship. The ache in my chest serves as a constant reminder that no amount of styling can bring back the laughter shared, the moments cherished, or the love lost. As I stand in front of the mirror, I wish for a transformation that goes beyond the surface. I wish for a return to happiness, for the touch of a hand that understands the depths of my sorrow. The best thermal brush may create beauty, but I seek something deeper—a connection, a reason to smile again. Until then, I will continue to wander through this life, searching for solace in the shadows. #Loneliness #Heartbreak #EmotionalJourney #Healing #FindingSolace

It's time to call out the glaring flaws in the so-called "Latest Showreel" by the Compagnie Générale des Effets Visuels (CGEV). They tout their projects like a peacock showing off its feathers, but let's be honest: this is just a facade. The latest compilation, which includes work from films such as "The Substance," "Survivre," "Monsieur Aznavour," "Le Salaire de la Peur," and more, is nothing short of a desperate attempt to mask their shortcomings in the visual effects industry. First off, what are they thinking with the title "Mise à jour de showreel"? This isn't an update; it's a cry for help! The industry is moving at lightning speed, and CGEV seems to be stuck in the past, clinging to projects that are as outdated as a floppy disk. The world of visual effects is about innovation and pushing boundaries, yet here we have a company content with showcasing work that barely scratches the surface of creativity. And let’s talk about "Le Salaire de la Peur." If this is their crown jewel, then they are in serious trouble. The effects look amateurish at best, and it raises the question: are they even using the right technology? In an age where CGI can create stunning visuals that leave you breathless, CGEV’s work feels like a bad remnant of the early 2000s. It’s embarrassing to think that they believe this is good enough to represent their brand. Alain Carsoux, the director, needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror. Is he satisfied with this mediocrity? Because the rest of us definitely aren’t. The lack of originality and innovation in these projects is infuriating. Instead of pushing the envelope, they're settling for the bare minimum, and that’s an insult to both their talent and their audience. The sad reality is that CGEV is not alone in this trend. The entire industry seems to be plagued by a lack of ambition. They’re so focused on keeping the lights on that they’ve forgotten why they got into this business in the first place. It’s about passion, creativity, and daring to take risks. "Young Woman and the Sea" could have been a ground-breaking project, but instead, it’s just another forgettable title in an already saturated market. We need to demand more from these companies. We deserve visual effects that inspire, challenge, and captivate. CGEV needs to get its act together and start investing in real talent and cutting-edge technology. No more excuses! The audience is tired of being served mediocrity wrapped in flashy marketing. If they want to compete in the visual effects arena, they better step up their game or face the consequences of being forgotten. Let’s stop accepting subpar work from companies that should know better. The time for complacency is over. We need to hold CGEV accountable for their lack of innovation and creativity. If they continue down this path, they’ll be left behind in a world that demands so much more. #CGEV #VisualEffects #FilmIndustry #TheSubstance #Innovation

What on earth is going on with the VFX in Netflix's "The Snow Sister"? Seriously, it’s 2023, and we’re still being fed mediocre visual effects that are supposed to "wow" us but end up doing the exact opposite! The so-called "VFX breakdown" is nothing more than a slap in the face to anyone who actually appreciates the art of visual storytelling. Let’s get one thing straight: if the best VFX are indeed the ones you can’t spot, then how on earth did we end up with these glaringly obvious digital blunders? It’s like they threw a bunch of half-baked effects together and called it a day. Instead of stunning visuals that elevate the narrative, we get a distracting mess that pulls you right out of the experience. Who are they kidding? The creators of "The Snow Sister" clearly missed the memo that viewers today are not easily satisfied. We demand more than just passable effects; we want immersive worlds that captivate us. And yet, here we are, subjected to a barrage of poorly executed VFX that look like they belong in a low-budget production from the early 2000s. It’s frustrating to see Netflix, a platform that should be setting the gold standard in content creation, flounder so embarrassingly with something as fundamental as visual effects. What’s even more maddening is the disconnect between the promotional hype and the actual product. They tout the "creation" of these effects as if they’re groundbreaking, but in reality, they are a visual cacophony that leaves much to be desired. How can anyone take this seriously when the final product looks like it was hastily patched together? It’s not just a disservice to the viewers; it’s an insult to the talented artists who work tirelessly in the VFX industry. They deserve better than to have their hard work represented by subpar results that manage to undermine the entire project. Netflix needs to wake up and understand that audiences are becoming increasingly discerning. We’re not just mindless consumers; we have eyes, and we can see when something is off. The VFX in "The Snow Sister" is a glaring example of what happens when corners are cut and quality is sacrificed for the sake of quantity. We expect innovation, creativity, and, above all, professionalism. Instead, we are fed a half-hearted effort that leaves us shaking our heads in disbelief. In conclusion, if Netflix wants to maintain its position as a leader in the entertainment industry, it’s time to step up its game and give us the high-quality VFX that we deserve. No more excuses, no more mediocre breakdowns—just real artistry that enhances our viewing experience. Let’s hold them accountable and demand better! #VFX #Netflix #TheSnowSister #VisualEffects #EntertainmentIndustry