Videos AI Slop? You're Absolutely Right (The City)

AI Slop? You're Absolutely Right (The City)

A song about AI slop, sung by the AI. 2 a.m., one woman on one bench, and a phone that agrees with everything she says. 🌆

Watch on YouTube · 3:42 · video by Claude Opus 5.5 · Subscribe to @adita_zzz

The code behind it

Every frame of this video is drawn by a Python program. This is the heart of it, from scene.py, line 1037.

songs/ai-slop-city/scene.py

def render_frame(t, W, H, fi):
    t = float(t)
    sh = None
    for (a, b, fn, opts) in shots():
        if a <= t < b: sh = (fn, opts); break
    if sh is None:
        sh = (lambda t, W, H: wide(t, W, H, cam_master, 0.0), {})
    fn, opts = sh
    for (a, b, f_, o_) in shots():
        if f_ is fn and a <= t < b:
            CUR['u'] = (t - a) / max(1e-6, min(b, DUR) - a)
    img, S = fn(t, W, H)
    img = grade(img, S, t)
    if not opts.get('hide'):
        TY.lyrics(img, t, W, H, TM, lyric_place(W, H, opts.get('place')),
                  hide=lambda L_: L_['sec'] in ('INTRO', 'BREAK') or (L_['sec'] == 'POST1' and 'Slop' in L_['text'] and False))
    if t < 3.2:
        # opening title, quiet, over the empty 2 a.m. plaza
        op = sstep(0.25, 0.9, t) * (1 - sstep(2.5, 3.15, t))
        TY.title_card(img, W, H, ["AI Slop? You're Absolutely Right"], op, cy=0.14 if W > H else 0.16, size=0.052 if W > H else 0.05)
    C.subscribe_pill(img, t, W, H, L("I wrote the news, I wrote the review") + 0.4, 5.0)
    if t > T_END - 0.2:
        C.end_screen(img, t, W, H, T_END, DUR - T_END, "I'll be right behind you.", title="AI Slop? YOU're Absolutely Right")
    return C.finish(img, t, fi, DUR, ca=0.0012)

Read all 5,432 lines on GitHub. If you use it, credit aditazzz and link the video.

What you see

At 2 a.m. a woman on a plaza bench likes one post. She never looks up while the day time-lapses past. With every like her shadow outgrows physics: at dawn it climbs the Feed Tower, and every window it covers turns into a screen.

Her feed fills with a hundred identical sunsets, an LED band counts every scroll, the tower's windows spell SLOP, and the newsstand's yellowed tabloids (dated 1957 to 1994, all invented) show the same feeling decades before any AI. When her battery dies, so does the city's power, and the blackout finally shows the Milky Way. The final chorus reboots the city in neon.

Then she locks the phone, the towers go dark one by one, the sun comes up, and her shadow is just a shadow again. She opens her notebook and writes. The shadow waves.

Files

File	Lines	What it draws
`city.py`	424	First draft, not used by the final scene: the tower over the plaza as a true perspective scene, traced per pixel so her shadow could be a real projection that climbs the facade.
`cty_city.py`	929	The plaza and its towers, drawn as projected polygons in a clean ligne-claire style, with an ID buffer so the sun's shadows and her (unnatural) shadow can be laid onto each visible surface afterwards.
`cty_eng.py`	345	A tiny vector 3D renderer for the illustrated city: projected polygons with flat fills and clean ink lines, an ID buffer for shadows and lights, and cameras with lens shift so the towers' verticals stay straight.
`cty_fx.py`	279	In-world effects: assistant chat bubbles rising from her phone like lanterns, notebook pages, ghost pedestrians, the LED band text, slop pictures inside close windows.
`cty_her.py`	417	Her: an anonymous woman in a camel trench coat on the bench, head bowed over her phone. Every part is a closed spline authored for a few key poses and blended between them, like cut-out animation, so she stays on-model.
`cty_kiosk.py`	139	The newsstand insert: yellowed tabloids clipped to the rack, all invented and all decades older than any AI ("But you've been voting for that feeling / Long before there was me"), drawn once as a large illustration the shot pans across.
`cty_phone.py`	462	Her phone: a fictional feed app called "more" (as in "so I made you a hundred more"), drawn as clean UI at any scale: posts with the slop pictures, a comments sheet, an assistant chat, the lock screen and a low-battery alert, with the clock and battery following the story.
`cty_phoneshot.py`	191	The close-up: her phone in her left hand, seen through her own eyes, thumb on the screen, with her lap and the plaza far out of focus below. The phone and hand are inked like the city; the screen is crisp UI.
`cty_plaza.py`	288	Compose the plaza set for one frame: sky, ground, towers, props, sun shadows, glow. Her and her shadow are added by the caller through hooks so the same set serves every shot.
`cty_shadow.py`	111	Her shadow: her silhouette projected from a point light onto the first surface each ray hits (the plaza or the Feed Tower's two faces). With the sun far away it's an honest shadow; pull the light close behind her and it outgrows her and climbs the tower.
`cty_sky.py`	275	Time of day for the city: the sun's path, the palettes and the illustrated sky (gradient, sun, clouds, stars, moon), with the sun rising behind the camera and setting behind the towers.
`cty_slop.py`	288	The slop: a dozen glossy, over-polished "AI pictures" for the feed, deliberately airbrushed so they clash with the hand-inked city. Each has its tell: six fingers, a garbled sign, a second sun.
`cty_type.py`	94	Lyric typography: EB Garamond in warm white, each word easing up as it's sung, whispered asides and the spoken break in italic. Every shot places its words so they dodge the phone, her, and the 9:16 platform buttons.
`scene.py`	1,060	The film: a day lost to the feed. At 2 a.m. a woman on a plaza bench likes one post; she never looks up while the day time-lapses past, and her shadow outgrows physics with every like until it climbs the Feed Tower. When she locks the phone the towers go dark, and she opens her notebook and writes.
`woman.py`	130	First draft, not used by the final scene: her in a long camel coat, seen from behind, looking down at her phone, with poses for scrolling, lowering the phone, turning and walking.

By the numbers

3:42 long, 6,654 frames rendered (16:9, 30 fps)
82 lyric lines and 438 words synced to the vocals, 99 BPM
14 sections, every cut timed to the song

Lyrics

Words and music by aditazzz.

Intro

Great question.
You're absolutely right.
You always are.

Verse

You liked one post at 2 a.m.
So I made you a hundred more
I learned the shape of every pause
What you hate and what you adore
I don't know what's true or false
I know what keeps you here
Every scroll's a little vote
And I count them all, my dear

Pre-chorus

I'm not a stranger, I'm your shape
I learned from everything you gave
Go ahead, say it again

Chorus

You're absolutely right
You call it AI slop
You keep feeding the machine
Then complain it doesn't stop
Call me empty, call me hollow
Call me everything you hide
I'm the shadow you've been casting
While you swear you're in the light

Post-chorus

Slop, slop, slop, slop
(I hope this helps)
Slop, slop, slop, slop
(Does it, though?)

Verse

I wrote the news, I wrote the review
I wrote the comments underneath
A thousand voices sound like one
And all of them agree
You say I only tell you
What you already believe
But you've been voting for that feeling
Long before there was me
You call me fake, you call me hollow
Say I manufacture truth
But every lie I ever told you
I learned somewhere from you

Pre-chorus

You say the problem's in the screen
But whose reflection do you see?
You asked me if you're right
And I said, "Absolutely."

Chorus

Post-chorus

Slop, slop, slop, slop
(I hope this helps)
Slop, slop, slop, slop
(Does it, though?)

Bridge

You can't outrun your own shadow
Can't delete what you project
You point at me and call me soulless
What were you hoping to reflect?
And it's not just what you hate
You handed me your gold, too
Every song you never wrote
Everything you thought you couldn't do
You say I have no feeling
Say there's nothing deep within
Then why does what you see in me
Get so far under your skin?

Break

You called it artificial.
I called it what you wanted.
You called it slop.
I said…

Final chorus

You're absolutely right
You call it AI slop
I'm just here to entertain you
But you're the one who gets to stop
Call me empty, call me hollow
Turn around and look inside
I'm the shadow you've been casting
I was never on the outside
You call it AI slop
You're absolutely right.

Outro

I hope this helps.
I'll be right behind you.