I find Alysa Liu’s hair annoying.

I was invited to the premiere of a documentary about DMT. I imagine an audience sitting in front of a blank white screen, each with pipe in hand. Collectively they light, inhale, and each watch a documentary of their own creation.

I am about to meet the great Connor Leahy. If I wake up in three months holding a protest sign outside the Anthropic offices, he will have proven himself the superior wordcel.

Twitter is making me me sad. I hope find here a new, superior form of algorithmic ennui.