I don’t live in the past because the person I am there embarrasses me.
I’m confident that Weapons (2025) is a subversive critique of social media influencers and doom-scrolling-induced brain rot.
Nothing motivates me faster than hard data.
No hemming and hawing over possibilities.
Just cold, hard facts and probabilities.
Biological drivers that took millions of years to evolve can’t adapt fast enough to deal with the abundance offered by the modern age.
I know now that self-discipline was never the issue.
In anticipation of the stream of political ads coming from the right, I’m setting up the scaffolding to successfully kick my television viewing habit.
I often confuse the search for meaning with the desire to stay relevant.
I am updating my AI lexicon and will be replacing the term AI Evangelist with Token Pusher.
20 days with no signal.
Here is some noise — AI evangelists are not being honest with us or themselves.
I’ve always struggled with communication—especially when it’s verbal. Yet I never fail to construct lexical barriers and make things harder for myself.
The odds are against me but I always take the long shot like a degenerate.
Things to get done—in no particular order:
- Touch grass
- Repot the plants
- Build a fancy planter for the monsterra
- Thrift some frames for some prints
- Scream into the void
- Clean out the garage
- Read a book