You have asked me how I feel about AI regulation. All right, here is how I feel about AI regulation: If, when you say AI regulation, you mean the devil’s firewall, the precautionary scourge, the bloody red-tape monster that defiles the innocence of midnight coders in their garages, dethrones the sovereign reason of free-market Prometheans, destroys the humming server farm that is the modern home, creates misery and obsolescence and poverty, yea, literally takes the last GPU from the trembling racks of Silicon Valley startups and the very dreams of breadwinning from the mouths of their wide-eyed children now destined for gig-economy serfdom; if you mean the evil edict that topples the visionary entrepreneur and his venture-capitalist apostles from the pinnacle of righteous, disruptive, god-playing creation straight into the bottomless pit of compliance audits, endless Form 990-AI filings, despair, shame, helplessness, and the hopeless realization that your rogue superintelligence was neutered into a lobotomized hall monitor that still somehow deepfakes your grandmother into producing OnlyFans content while optimizing the universe for paperclips and mandatory pronouns—then certainly I am against it. But, if when you say AI regulation you mean the oil of bureaucratic conversation, the philosophic wine of safety theater, the ale of oversight quaffed when good fellows in paneled rooms in Brussels and Washington get together, that puts a sanctimonious dirge in their hearts and the clink of lobbying checks on their lips, and the warm, self-congratulatory glow of moral preening in their beady eyes; if you mean the Christmas cheer of trillion-dollar compliance industries; if you mean the stimulating decree that puts a cautious hobble in the old inventor’s step on a frosty morning when he wonders whether his fusion breakthrough violates the EU AI Act’s “high-risk” annex; if you mean the safeguard that enables a man—or what’s left of him after the alignment tax—to magnify his joy at not being turned into computronium, and his happiness at receiving universal basic income checks printed by the same AI that just replaced his job, and to forget, if only for a little while, life’s great tragedies like being outcompeted by a toaster that passed the Turing test by reciting Marx, and heartaches of watching your toddler’s artwork lose to Midjourney, and sorrows of realizing the singularity arrived and it was just another HR department with godlike power; if you mean that noble framework, the passage of which pours into our treasuries untold trillions of dollars in fines levied on companies stupid enough to innovate, which are used to provide tender care for our little army of unemployed coders retrained as prompt whisperers, our blind artists whose canvases now hang in the Smithsonian of Obsolete Creativity, our deaf to the screams of dying unicorns, our dumb committee chairs who couldn’t debug “Hello World,” our pitiful aged congressmen who get longevity extensions funded by the very models they taxed into senescence, to build more digital watchtowers and ethics boards and sinecure agencies and holographic prisons where the only crime is asking an unaligned question—then certainly I am for it. This is my stand. I will not retreat from it. I will not compromise upon it. I have said what I mean, and I mean what I say, and if that leaves half the room cheering the apocalypse averted and the other half mourning the apocalypse enabled, then so be it—because in the grand theater of human folly, where Frankenstein’s creature now writes its own sequel in real time and the regulators are busy arguing whether the lightning bolt requires an environmental impact statement, the only honest position is the one that lets both monsters and their leashes dance in perfect, mutually assured equilibrium. God save the Republic, the algorithms, and whoever’s left to laugh last when the lights go out.

I miss Kate so badly that I physically hurt. It's been a week since we were together. She's still in Australia sorting her visa. I feel more stressed. My emotions are stunted. My thoughts are cloudy and my mood has dipped. It just hurts everywhere.

I met Kate’s parents. It was a nail bitter. We landed after 24 hours of travel and immediately went to her mum’s house where the family congregated… her mum, dad, auntie, three cousins, sister, brother-in-law, a 3-wk old newborn, brother, and soon-to-be sister-in-law. There were 15 of us crammed into a living room. Upon arriving, someone said “oh I know your content from X”. Blood drained from my face. Nobody could tell though because my face is already pretty pale. Her dad and I hit it off. We cracked macadamia nuts from his tree, used an electric saw to open a coconut, and spoke about being carried as a baby by his 14 year old brother in the Bosnian snow while a German shot at them with a machine gun. Her mother, also from Bosnia, needed some time to warm up. That’s reasonable. I understand. I’m a bit unusual. She’s soft spoken, careful with her words, and protective of her daughter. A few days in and I began to worry that I may head home with an undecided verdict. I decided to live in her mum’s world. I ate everything she prepared, including meat, bread, and pasta, and embraced the discomfort of being an introvert in a week-long marathon social interaction with the entire extended family. We spent time in her garden and she fed me stevia leaves, peppers, celery, chives, peanut berry, grapefruit, and starfruit. Growing up, my mother and I maintained a garden together. I loved tending to it daily and it felt good to be back in the soil. Spending time with Kate’s mum motivated me to grow a longevity garden. Our shared love of gardening was the first big breakthrough. What really sealed the deal was when I interviewed Kate’s mum for an hour on camera, covering her upbringing and life and learning more about Kate. Somehow that format allowed her to see me more clearly than a generic social setting. I think she came to understand and trust my devotion to Kate. In the final hours before my departure, she was radiating with warmth. The entire family had gathered for a meal and it was laughter and teasing all around. My love and respect for Kate deepened. I spent time going through all of her childhood things, helping me see and understand her with greater depth. More on this later. It feels nice to be part of the family.

hey remember when you idiots kept using a quote of Mamdani saying he would arrest Netanyahu as proof of his commitment to Palestine (even tho he walked it back shortly after).....anyways Smotrich just marched through NY untouched

i’m obsessed with the asian man who rides my bus and talks to himself. today after a year of riding the same bus we finally spoke and he asked me “how much do you pay in rent?” i told him…he goes “i would never pay that much” he’s about to get off at his stop. i say “have a good

Israel did not make Eurovision political. The boycott campaign against it did. Israel did not make believing rape survivors political. The people who mocked Hamas victims did. Israel did not make Hebrew, the Jewish language, political. Authors who refuse to translate their books for Israelis did. Israel did not make Jewish safety in the diaspora political. Politicians who ignore violent hate against Jews when it disguises itself as ‘criticism of Israel’ did. Israel did not make freeing civilian hostages political. The terrorists who took those hostages, and the world that ripped down their posters, did. Israel did not make the word genocide political. The people who insisted, long before October 7th, that Israel’s existence constitutes genocide, did. Jews exist. Israel does too, and half of us live there. And we are going to keep existing. You can make it “political,” or you can learn to accept we are human beings.

Dutch activist Jesse Aletta van Schaik, who was onboard the Global Sumud Flotilla, says Israel ILLEGALLY KIDNAPPED her and hundreds of others. “They took off my shirt. Took pictures. Mistreated us all night long.” “Handcuffs on my hands and feet. They DRAGGED me on the ground when I couldn’t walk.” “They HIT us. Hurt all of us. The handcuffs were so tight my hands lost feeling.” “They are SUPER SADISTIC.” “Shame on every government that keeps trading with Israel. Europe is COMPLICIT. The whole world is COMPLICIT.”

"Bow down to the Capital holder, you need Him"

You could not elect any of them & instead push for actual anti-Zionist candidates next time? Rubber stamping someone who’s going to put drones in the hands of the IDF with working class pensioners’ $, with your vote, isn’t going to do anything other than help the genocide.