My 1990s financial hunches sounded really stupid. What did I know. And then…

You know, like, posts, that, well — won't get read, why? Citations. Backlinks. Fair, but it's a decision with its own grammar.

So many questions are raised for me at a — deeper level. Am I allowed to say that, or is that domain already claimed by tech companies?

Yes, there's SEO and all that, and this is a blog post after all. But I'm much more interested in making eye contact with the person at the bus stop. So, whatever.

So, there's chips, and there's chips. Ask your great-grandparents, and then ask the nearest five-year-old. A crucial difference. Not just one.

In a final note for now about AI, I say something about the use and abuse of logic and grammar.

It was a sad day when we heard Catherine O'Hara had passed away. But AI told me not to worry.

Thinking aloud on questions of philosophy and AI, touching on strawberry ice cream and elevator music.

You get knocked over by a wave. It was 5ft. No, sorry, 50ft. No, sorry, 50,000ft… or like Job. At what point is the hurt such that the scale isn't the point. Oh, and AI.

Am I alone in finding everything I encounter brings up a thousand other things? Now apply that to reading the Bible. I know.

Just an average writing day, but genuinely finding my private thinking interrupted by questions about how that might seem if said aloud.

There's a gap here, but it's not nothing. It's between the actor and the audience, the words and the meaning, and between artificial intelligence and — Spirit and Truth, perhaps?