Call me Cassandra
Three years holding this back. Done holding.
a field guide to your own catastrophes
Three years holding this back. Done holding.
A few weeks ago the only thing we wanted from a "talking-head avatar" was for it to look like the person in the input photo and to blink at roughly the right moments. By this week we wanted to grab th
He had been asked a question and he had not bothered to answer. Between a wife who could ask and a fish who would grant, he had only to think — and he had not learned to.
Most work that feels productive is self-referential, and the small warm room is unlikely to tell you so. An essay on the alchemist's tower, the journals at the foot of the hill, and the visitor whose advice is absorbed, not refused.
Most decisions you celebrate were wrong, and nothing in your week is going to tell you which ones. An essay on feedback loops, falsification, and the discipline of being made to find out.
A production Android RN/Expo app crashed on launch with the canonical message: