The unfolding of Chapter Seventeen's architecture and approach feels compelling. I’m thinking aloud here about potential areas of research.

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.

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.

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.

These things would only ever happen in church or in a crisis. (Like Tom Hanks with an ice skate — needs must. Sometimes. Other times it's inappropriate, dangerous, outrageous and misguided.) Hence my new fancy word, ship-wreck-less-ons. The kind of things any one of us might learn in Chapter Seventeen.

So many things to say about the nature of reality as seen through plastic hammers for babies and how teachers — like, God, for example — teach.

My website looks quite standard until that menu item — Stage Door. It's what happens with a literary imagination birthed in Bible and Bagpuss.

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?