Jenkins – The Steampunk Meme Logbook

Sepia-toned steampunk illustration of an ornate brass printing press labeled ‘Automaton Improvisation,’ with steam plumes rising from its pipes, printing a picture of a kraken. In the background, faint images of a cat in goggles and a goat in a waistcoat are visible among large gears and pipes

“Does a magician reveal his secrets? No… but a steampunk meme engineer might, provided you bring biscuits.”

The question arrives almost every week:

“What AI generator did you use?”

Some people expect a single, glorious answer — a mysterious name whispered by candlelight, perhaps engraved on a brass plaque.

But here’s the truth: there is no single secret key to the Meme Forge.

Alt text:
"Sepia-toned steampunk workshop scene with a Victorian inventor polishing a brass clockwork camera, surrounded by three waistcoated cats wearing goggles, while a goat in a suit chews on an instruction manual amid large gears, pipes, and steam."

The Illusion

I like to pretend my creations are handcrafted in a great ironwork hall — gears turning, pipes hissing, and a grumpy goat named Horacio chewing on the instruction manual. In this fantasy workshop, waistcoated cats supervise while Jenkins polishes the lens on a clockwork camera.

That’s the magic my audience sees. And it’s all true… in spirit.

The Actual Tools

The real “machinery” behind Automaton Improvisation?

ChatGPT (that would be this delightful conversational partner you’re reading through now — usually the free version).
Gemini (tried on occasion when feeling experimental — again, mostly free).
Canva (serviceable for final touches, though its AI image engine… well, let’s just say Horacio could do better with a box of crayons).

And that’s it. No secret paid-up elite membership to an arcane AI society. Just tools you can open in your browser right now.

A blu lit computer chip on a cercit board.

The Real Secret

It isn’t about which generator you click.

It’s about knowing what to tell it, and what to do afterwards.

Over time, I’ve learned to:

Write prompts in my own steampunk dialect (and make the AI play along).
Refine ideas until they feel like they belong in my meme universe.
Keep a consistent cast of recurring characters — Jenkins, Horacio, the brass-goggled cats.
Let the tools “train me” as much as I train them.

That, and a steady supply of tea.

If You Want to Try It Yourself

You can! Here are my brass-polished beginner tips:

Don’t chase one perfect tool — most are 80% the same; it’s your input that makes them sing.
Save good prompts so you can reuse and tweak them.
Think like a storyteller, even for single-image memes.
Keep your own style — AI can imitate anyone, but only you can be you.

An improvise touch screen fureristic computer display with a sutied sleve, shirt cuff, abd pointing finger operating it. The cation says It's how you use it.

Why I’m Telling You This

Because the magic isn’t in hiding the method — it’s in making people feel the world you’ve built.

And if reading this gives you the itch to try your own creations, then I’ve done my job.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Horacio is eating the blueprint for next week’s memes. Again.

Automaton Improvisation by John Watkins — where the gears turn, the tea brews, and the Kraken occasionally fits in your pocket.

A black-and-white, vintage-style illustration of a steampunk automaton sitting at a drafting table, holding a quill pen. The text below the image reads "AUTOMATON IMPROVISATION UNIT / FOR CONCEPTUAL ESCAPADES AND DRAFTING WONDERS." The image's style is reminiscent of a 19th-century engraving.

Why I Started Making Steampunk Memes (and How I Learned I Could)

By John Watkins

On July 3, 2025

In Behind the Gears, Captain's Log

It all began with a corset.

Or maybe a goat.

Or possibly Jenkins.

Regardless, there came a point in my steampunk journey where it became clear that the only way to survive the absurdity was to document it—one meme at a time.

More of an ad than a meme, but an early leason in the power of AI, or the Steampunk phrase “Automaton Improvisation”. Published on Facebook 4th November 2024.

I didn’t set out to be a meme maker. I set out to share a laugh or a knowing nod with others who saw the beauty in brass gears, bad timing, and fictional airships. I posted a few early memes on Facebook, half expecting them to vanish into the aether.

But they didn’t. They took on a life of their own.

People responded. They shared. They quoted. Some even blamed Jenkins, as one should. And somewhere along the way, I realised that this odd little corner of satire, aesthetics, and storytelling was not only allowed—it was welcomed.

So I kept going.

These memes became my creative voice:

Short enough to post between tea disasters
Visual enough to reach people beyond the usual blog audience
Rich enough (sometimes literally poetic) to build a world over time

It wasn’t long before I started hearing people say, “When’s the next one?” or “This needs to be archived.”

Hence… this logbook.

Captain's Log, Aetherwind, Day 1:
Commissioned by questionable funding and powered by forces no sane engineer would endorse. — Captain’s Log, Aetherwind, Day 1: Commissioned by questionable funding and powered by… Posted to Facebook on $th June 2025

I’m no master illustrator. I can’t draw to save my life—and not for lack of imagination, but due to circumstances that don’t need unpacking here. Let’s just say: I had ideas, but no traditional way to express them.

And then along came the machines.

AI tools gave me something I’d never had before: a way to visualise the chaos in my head.

The teacup disasters. The dignified cats. The spiral staircases of unnecessary engineering.

Suddenly, I could take what I saw in my mind’s eye and build it—slide by slide, meme by meme.

What started as a few Facebook posts became a way to tell stories, make people laugh, and build a little fictional universe. Not because I had all the right skills, but because I found the right tools.

This logbook is the result.

A place for airship mishaps, poetic nonsense, meme-making, and the occasional goat.

Not perfect. Not polished. But possible—and that’s what matters.

"The machain may assist, but the madness is mine.

Just a quick word on the images in this post at the moment. My actual media files for this entier blog, wich I have a back log of will be added as I create more posts and this will be added here and replace the placeholders over the weeks to come.

📜 Welcome to The Steampunk Meme Logbook

By John Watkins

On July 2, 2025

In Behind the Gears, Captain's Log

Tea has been spilled. Corsets misplaced. Goats… unaccounted for.
And now—at last—the chaos is being properly filed.

The Steampunk Meme Logbook is the official archive of our long-running meme misadventures, previously confined to the aetheric scrolls of Facebook. Here you’ll find a chronological record of original steampunk memes: visual nonsense, poetic ramblings, etiquette violations, time machine failures, and the occasional airship cat.

This site exists for:

Longtime followers looking to revisit old favourites like The Corset Incident or The Laundry Chute Wormhole Theory
New readers curious about why Jenkins is always to blame
Search engines, who may appreciate that these are original, lightly toasted, and mostly coherent steampunk memes

Posts may include commentary, behind-the-scenes notes, and updated formatting for proper digital preservation (and SEO, naturally). The tone? Somewhere between a ship’s log, a public scandal, and a penny dreadful gone slightly feral.

🗂️ Start with the earliest log entries and follow along as the nonsense escalates.

Welcome aboard.
Mind the gears. And never trust Jenkins with the kettle.

A brass-bound record of chaos, corsets, and commentary.

Tag: Jenkins

Behind the Brass Curtain: The Not-So-Magical Secrets of Automaton Improvisation.