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.

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

Anguish and tuxedos. As if they make sense together. (Horrible.)

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.

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.

I'm thinking aloud about Chapter Seventeen, but you're welcome to listen or read, climb in or create, write or study, collaborate or unplug — and carry on doing all the same things in the real world…

How can I say this loudly enough. There are sites that get the job done, and there are sites that don't think that alone was the point. Stewards and Advocates for each other. Salt and light. Ambience. Flavour.

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.

Fork handles. Scaffolding poles. Metal things and metaphors that might be in a box out the back, but I'll have to look. Was this what they meant by theological imagination?

The way I think about things like this — like Hezekiah's story — is like walking around a shed filled with metaphorical mechanisms. But then, my grandfather was a toolmaker.

Taking something or someone seriously means not hoovering in front of the football, and saving their drafts from the bin. And other things I've learned.

Here's a word-based mind worm for you. Not that you probably wanted one, because that's not how mind worms work. Sorry, but you've come this far and there's no going back.

Preaching through philosophical thought experiments, or just pondering? Toning it down, hyping it up — what's going on with my writing, I wonder aloud.

More notes on my thinking around metaphor and metametaphor — and how metaphor can provide scaffolding for ideas, thought experiments and meaning.

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?

Is cosmetic language surgery a thing? I think it might just be.