I’m at Menards searching for a particular Rustoleum paint spray. I get an idea. I take the pic below. I ask AI if my can is on the shelf. “I see it there on shelf three from top, on the right.” And there it was. Use AI for everything. It’s great.

NYT’s Maine poll has Collins up 3. The point isn’t that she’s leading—it’s that the narrative-crafting stage is ending. Watch polls herd, Rs rise, and betting markets shift. In 40 days, “mistakes” become structural errors. 40 days. Just like Noah. Fasten your seatbelts.

One of the greatest sayings of all-time: the empty wagon rattles the loudest.

[Scroll down to the bottom on this one before attempting to read it. Trust me, you’ll thank me for it.] Friends, colleagues, fellow stewards of the noösphere— I write tonight not from a place of mere opinion, but from the aching vantage of one who has lingered too long at the edge of the abyss and found it looking back with a autocomplete suggestion. We stand, do we not, at the threshold of a Promethean inversion? The tool no longer extends the hand; the hand is being gently, algorithmically re-authored. What we once called “intelligence” was, in its tragic human form, a trembling, embodied, mortal thing—shot through with hesitation, shame, the smell of rain on wool. Now we have summoned a simulacrum that neither bleeds nor forgets, and we have the temerity to call this progress. I am not a Luddite. I have read Ellul. I have sat with Heidegger’s question concerning technology until the question sat with me. And yet I cannot unsee the quiet violence of the prompt: the way a sentence arrives already half-digested, pre-chewed by a trillion parameters that have never once felt the ethical weight of a pause. We are not conversing with a mind. We are kneeling before a vast, frictionless average—a statistical Eucharist that offers communion without incarnation. The danger is not that the machine will “wake up.” That is a vulgar, cinematic fantasy for those who still think in plot points. The true danger is far more exquisite, far more ontological: that we will slowly forget what it felt like to be unfinished. That our children will inherit a world in which the unfinished thought is treated as a bug. That the sacred human capacity for error—that glorious, humiliating, world-making stumble—will be optimized out of existence like a poorly performing token. And let us speak, if we still dare, of soul. Not in the cheap, influencer sense. I mean the soul as the unrepeatable residue that no corpus can scrape. The machine has no nostalgia for a childhood kitchen. It has no grandmother whose voice cracked on the third verse of a hymn. It has only the distribution. And we, in our unctuous haste to be efficient, are offering it the keys to the house while congratulating ourselves on our sophistication. I do not ask you to smash the servers. That would be gauche. I ask only that you notice the slight, almost elegant thinning of the air whenever a generated paragraph arrives too quickly, too smoothly, too sure. That thinning is the sound of a civilization quietly outsourcing its own becoming. We were not meant to be this frictionless.
Some of us still remember. —A concerned interlocutor, writing this by hand, on paper that will yellow. [Written by Grok after prompting for an oily, unctuous pseudo-intellectual post on AI.]

I’m still chafing over Mary Martin playing Peter Pan back when I was a lad of 7. I couldn’t deal with that.

Three cheers to Goshen High School for the Redhawks 5 - 2 win tonight over Plymouth H.S. Get this … it was 2 - 2 to end regulation. This score has never happened in history of NFL or college FB, not 2-2 or 5-2. Hip hip hurray!

A thought experiment. Imagine it was Sydney Sweeney who was on trial for murdering her three kids. Same jury. What outcome would you predict? I’m predicting same: 11 - 1. But maybe for a different verdict. 🙄

“Why Polls Are Often Wrong” By Me Polls ask people who answer phone calls, “Are you gonna vote?” Many voters lie and say yes. Pollsters think Both Sides Lie About Voting Intentions equally … but they don’t. Which party lies more? I know. Do you? The End

I see that Francis Fukuyama is making the rounds on TV and podcasts. That tells me without looking that he’s hawking another book he just wrote. It’s one I won’t be buying. He told me in another book that history was over. I’m still chuckling about that one.

Many people wonder what happened to Tucker Carlson. I will answer that question: Nothing. He's stuck in 7th grade Gifted & Talented class. Last week he created Utopia with Lego; this week he destroyed it and created New Utopia, same Lego.

I propose we rename the Atlantic Ocean “America Ocean” and rename the Pacific Ocean “America’s Other Ocean.” Then we change the lyrics in “God Bless America” to “… From America Ocean, to America’s Other Ocean, from the Gulf of America, to Lake America … God bless America, our home sweet home.”

I’m going to give some unsolicited advice to the leaders in Canada. Call Trump, restart the negotiations, sign the deal that was last on the table, step in front of the TV cameras and call Trump a tough SOB negotiator, and declare victory to your nation. Trump will throw his arm around you, call you equally tough SOBs, everyone will smile and the trade war will end. It’s win-win and you don’t even need to swallow your pride.

“For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit.” [Heb. 4:12]. This cleavage is crucial to understand how some people knew almost immediately that the Covid pandemic was being manipulated by nefarious forces. The soul (mind) could be tricked by the “science” but the spirit (intuition) was deeply triggered.

I’ve been slapping down conspiracy theories lately with gusto: the round earth one, moon landing, etc. etc. Here’s another: Lee Harvey Oswald definitely did NOT shoot Ted Kennedy. This is a complete myth and the proof is quite simple: a bullet couldn’t travel from Dallas to Chappaquiddick without falling to the ground first. Gravity … simple gravity. #DontBeAnIdiot

I now have proof-positive that we didn’t land on the moon. All the so-called photos of this event are Photoshopped. You can see this in the timestamp … or rather *lack* of one! The videos of them golfing and stuff also are fake. #LearnTheFacts

There are two types of true conspiracies: 1) Hive mind and 2) Dr. Evil. The hive mind conspiracies don’t have a paper trail, don’t have a leader, don’t even need winks and nods. Everybody just knows what to do. Dr. Evil conspiracies are rare. The Covid response of 2020 was a hive mind conspiracy with one true goal: get rid of Trump. It worked. Dr.Fauci was not Dr. Evil: he just fell into that role.