The kinds of questions around mystery that end up drifting because they're not allowed to land — in this lifetime — without permission.

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.

That moment when AI tells you it may be using language to dupe you, and you start wondering about double bluffs and meaningless alarm bells.

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.)

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?