You might wonder why some of my posts seem to interrupt themselves, like I'm trying to get chucked out of my own talk. Reader. Trust.

Oh, those helpful calligraphers. They always get in the way when you're trying to build a raft.

We should explore this world as an adventure — unless, of course, it might actually affect us.

Six months from now, on a dull day, when someone stumbles through the Stage Door into Chapter Seventeen, thinking — Where am I?

Just notes on certainty and hearsay, as I thnk aloud about how artificial intelligence shows us more than we wanted to see about what we're full of.

When I got a new mobile router, I was staring at Spicy Ginger Biscuits. The whole thing got me started on memories of 1980s Olympic-style evangelism. That's technology for you.

…Blip. Oh. Well, that's the power gone. And I don't just mean electricity. Where's a techie when you need one? He's no good now. At least he has his dramaturgy to fall back on.

How can I say this loudly enough. There are sites that get the job done, and there are sites that don't think that was the point.

About the origins of the Chapter Seventeen experiment. It all comes down to hyperlinks, which, when you think about it, are the technological equivalent of walking through walls. Or something about an Ethiopian eunuch...