Concept: a tarot deck accompanied by small sculptures and sundries. Each card relates to one of the 3-d objects. After drawing a card, you replace it in the spread with the corresponding object.

A red glass orb—a small hand outstretched—a carved quartz crystal—a yew wand. What does it mean!?

A web browser but when you click on a broken link it immediately pulls in the latest working cache from the Wayback Machine.

Gualala, December 2023

I like photos that just say one thing. Like: isn’t this shadow beautiful.

I find myself obscurely annoyed when pedestrians, using a crosswalk over which they have right-of-way, bow their heads and scurry, pantomiming apology to the waiting cars and trucks. I see this regularly. “These streets belong to you!” I want to say. “You’re not subservient to the automobile!”

Fascinating to think of the ornamental hermit craze as being not just (literal) garden-variety romanticism but on a deeper level a way to respect and preserve occult knowledge and tradition:

Other researchers, like Anna Korndorf, suggest that building hermitages and staffing them with ornamental hermits was a way to push back against the abandonment of “secret knowledge” maintained by members of rejected hermetic traditions.

(From this article about ornamental hermits. Black Phillip voice: “Would you like to live ornamentally?”)

Gualala, December 2023

Reading about the Modi regime’s hacking of journalists and opposition politicians, the story again comes back to Israel’s NSO Group and its Pegasus spyware. Even disregarding the atrocities in Gaza, it’s really quite stunning that the U.S. government gives Israel such oodles of cash and support without getting it to shut down this private spy agency that undermines the security of Apple, Google, and Meta’s core products while handing sophisticated spying tools to the most oppressive governments around. Future generations will look at U.S. kowtowing to Israel and shake their heads.

One drawback of writing with markdown is that I now often prefer the look of asterisk-on-either-side emphasis—but it renders as italics. Now I’m *over-riding* the markdown logic (and making drafts uglier) to bring that markdown flavor to the final product.

Watching two police cruisers tear down our narrow street, doing 50 in a 25 with their sirens off, I think: when my kid is 6 or 9 or 12, will I let them play on the street, ride their bike down the block, go buy candy at the corner store?

Not with cops like these.

I think of moving away.

Writing, as I remember it, feels like this:

But whenever I actually sit down to write, it feels like this:

Max Read’s stance on Harvard is right-on: “I simply do not care very much about Harvard.” Same.

Doing extremely custom magazine layouts has a similar itch-scratchy quality to what I imagine draws people to quilting. Like solving a jigsaw puzzle, except that when you’re done you really have something.

West Hollywood, December 2023

You know you’re in your thirties when you’re more likely to put on an album you loved when you were 13 then an album you loved when you were 19.

CEASE. FIRE. NOW.

7,500 children dead in Gaza.

Six dead children for every Israeli killed in the Hamas attack.

Collective punishment of civilians is genocide.

I’ve been obsessed with the Bulgarian song “Sandansko horo” for half my life now; I used to say I wanted it played at my funeral. But in a switch between music streamers, I lost the recording I love.

So how blessed I felt to find this blog post! Such good information—and my favorite recording!

Same honestly

How about a nice clicky T-9 keyboard that you strap to the front of your iPhone?

We could even make it so the most prolific texters are forced to use them, to try to Harrison Bergeron them back to baseline 2007 levels of texting.

(Though tbh we SMS-ed like absolute banshees in 2007.)

Whole wheat sourdough pancakes, fermented overnight, with a teaspoon of baking soda.

I love the guy in the little cockpit on the back of the extra-long firetruck, with his second steering wheel, steering the back wheels around corners. There’s something so sweet about that job.

Not to be missed: How to Build a Car That Kills People: Cybertruck Edition.

I tend to look at cars from a pedestrian’s POV—that’s how I spend most of my time on the streets. This tank seems designed to crush toddlers, decapitate elders, and probably be plowed into protesters. It should be illegal.

Just passed another of these cute little delivery robots while out for a run. It was taking up 3/4 of the sidewalk and didn’t move to yield way at all as I came upon it. WTF? You can’t ride a bicycle on the sidewalk here. These things are a clear violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Nothing but respect for MY PRESIDENT, the naked writhing modern dance orcs that take over your room in the Getty’s funky AR app “United Visions." This is what William Blake wanted.