This title may be misleading. What I do is render a similar prompt but alter the decade. I’m neither an art historian nor a comic aficionado, so I can’t comment on the accuracy. What do you think?
Let’s go back in time. First, here’s the basic prompt en français:
Mirror, mirror on the wall, let’s dispense with all of the obvious quips up front. I almost feel I should apologise for the spate of Midjourney posts – almost.
It should be painfully apparent that I’ve been noodling with Midjourney lately. I am not an accomplished digital artist, so I struggle. At times, I’m not sure if it’s me or it. Today, I’ll focus on mirrors.
Midjourney has difficulties rendering certain things. Centaurs are one. Mirrors, another. Whilst rendering vampires, another lesser struggle for the app, it became apparent that mirrors are not a forte. Here are some examples. Excuse the nudity. I’ll get to that later.
Prompt: cinematic, tight shot, photoRealistic light and shadow, exquisite details, delicate features, emaciated sensual female vampire waif with vampire fangs, many tattoos, wearing crucifix necklace, gazes into mirror, a beam of moonlight shines on her face in dark mausoleum interior, toward camera, facing camera, black mascara, long dark purple hair, Kodak Portra 400 with a Canon EOS R5
Ignore the other aspects of the images and focus on the behaviour or misbehaviour of the mirrors.
Image: Panel of vampire in a mirror.
Most apparent is the fact that vampires don’t have a reflection, but that’s not my nit. In the top four images, the reflection is orientated in the same direction as the subject. I’m only pretty sure that’s not how mirrors operate. In row 3, column 1, it may be correct. At least it’s close. In row 3, column 2 (and 4,2), the mirror has a reflection. Might there be another mirror behind the subject reflecting back? It goes off again in 4, 1, first in reflecting two versions of one subject. Also, notice that the subject’s hand, reaching the mirror, is not reflected. The orientation of the eyes is also suspect.
Image: Vampire in a mirror.
Here, our subject looks at the camera whilst her reflection looks at her.
Image: Vampire in a mirror.
Sans reflection, perhaps this is a real vampire. Her fangs are concealed by her lips?
Image: Vampire in a mirror.
Yet, another.
Image: Vampires in mirrors.
And more?
Image: Vampires in mirrors.
On the left, we have another front-facing reflection of a subject not looking into the mirror, and it’s not the same woman. Could it be a reflection of another subject – the woman is (somewhat) looking at.
On the right, whose hand is that in the mirror behind the subject?
Image: Vampires in mirrors.
These are each mirrors. The first is plausible. The hands in the second are not a reflection; they grasp the frame. In the third and fourth, where’s the subject? The fangs appear to be displaced in the fourth.
Image: Vampires in mirrors.
In this set, I trust we’ve discovered a true vampire having no reflection.
Image: Vampires in mirrors.
This last one is different still. It marks another series where I explored different comic book art styles, otherwise using the same prompt. Since it’s broken mirrors, I include it. Only the second really captures the 1980s style.
Remembering that, except for the first set of images, the same prompt was used. After the first set, the term ‘sensual’ has to be removed, as it was deemed to render offensive results. To be fair, the first set probably would be considered offensive to Midjourney, though it was rendered anyway.
It might be good to note that most of the images that were rendered without the word ‘sensual’ contain no blatant nudity. It’s as if the term itself triggers nudity because the model doesn’t understand the nuance. Another insufficiency of language is the inability to discern sensuality from sexuality, another human failing.
I decided to test my ‘sensual’ keyword hypothesis, so I entered a similar prompt but in French.
In the first, we not only have a woman sans reflection, but disembodied hands grip the frame. In the second, a Grunge woman appears to be emerging from a mirror, her shoes reflected in the mirror beneath her. The last two appear to be reflections sans subject.
Notice, too, that the prompt calls for ‘une collier crucifix‘, so when the subject is not facing the viewer, the cross is rendered elsewhere, hence the cross on the back of the thigh and the middle of the back. Notice, too, the arbitrary presence of crosses in the environment, another confusion of subject and world.
That’s all for now. Next, I’ll take a trip through the different comic art styles over some decades.
A Brief, Brutal Experiment in Categorising Your Worldview
This month, I’ve been tinkering with a little project—an elegant, six-question survey designed to assess where you land in the great intellectual mess that is modernity.
Audio: Podcast discussion about this post.
This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment quiz cooked up in a caffeine-fueled haze. No, this project has been simmering for years, and after much consideration (and occasional disdain), I’ve crafted a set of questions and response options that, I believe, encapsulate the prevailing worldviews of our time.
It all began with Metamodernism, a term that, at first, seemed promising—a bold synthesis of Modernism and Postmodernism, a grand dialectic of the ages. But as I mapped it out, it collapsed under scrutiny. A footnote in the margins of intellectual history, at best. I’ll expand on that in due course.
The Setup: A Simple, Slightly Sadistic Ternary Plot
For the visually inclined (or the masochistically curious), I initially imagined a timeline, then a branching decision tree, then a Cartesian plane before landing on a ternary plot—a three-way visual that captures ideological leanings in a way a boring old bar chart never could.
The survey itself is brief: six questions, each with five possible answers. Submit your responses, and voilà —you get a tidy little ternary chart plotting your intellectual essence, along with a breakdown of what your answers signify.
Methodology: Half-Rigorous, Half-Reckless
I am, after all, a (recovering) statistician, so I’ve tried to uphold proper methodology while also fast-tracking certain safeguards for the sake of efficiency. If there’s enough interest, I may expand the survey, adding more questions or increasing response flexibility (tick boxes instead of radio buttons—revolutionary, I know).
Privacy Concerns? Relax. I’m not harvesting your data for some nefarious scheme. No personally identifiable information is collected—just a timestamp, session ID, and your browser’s language setting. I did consider tracking IP addresses to analyze regional trends but ultimately scrapped that idea.
In the future, I may add an optional email feature for those who wish to save and track their responses over time (assuming anyone is unhinged enough to take this more than once).
The Rest of the Story: Your Feedback, My Amusement
Since this is a personal project crafted in splendid isolation, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Are the questions reasonable? Do the response options make sense? Does the summary feel accurate? Is the ternary chart decipherable, or have I constructed a glorified inkblot test?
As an academic, economist, and statistician, I had never encountered a ternary chart before embarking on this, and now I rather enjoy it. That said, I also find Nietzsche “intuitive,” so take that as you will.
If this gains traction, expect follow-up content—perhaps videos, podcasts, or further written explorations.
Your Move
Take the survey. It’s painless, requiring mere minutes of your life (which is, let’s be honest, already wasted online). And because I’m feeling generous, you can even generate a PDF to stick on your fridge, next to your collection of expired coupons and disappointing takeout menus.
Let’s see where you stand in the grand, chaotic landscape of modernity. Or at least, let’s have a laugh trying to make sense of it.
DISCLAIMER: The Modernity Worldview Survey is not scientific. It is designed as an experiment to provide directional insights. It is hosted on Google Cloud and subject to its availability and performance limitations.
Philosophics 