WE LIVE IN an Age of Uncertainty. Not just because of the global threats to societies, but many face unprecedented insecurity at a personal level, particularly the younger generations. None of us know what is going to happen, and we might as well face up to it. And that’s the first lesson in making predictions: Don’t make predictions. Meaning, don’t just make a guess as to what will happen. Instead, embrace uncertainty and turn it into an opportunity.
Society: Syria politics, and South Korea - interesting times. Vanishing executives (and online sleuths won’t help). Russia drug trade and deaddrops. Digital midwives. McKinsey and opiods. Lethal doses of .. many things. Manmade suns.
Futures: Uncertain skills. The glamour of tomorrow.
Life: a 74yo albatross lays egg. Assisted dying in CA. Grief retreat.
Tech: Meta and nuclear. Mineral export bans. Quartz, spof, and semiconductors. Evaporographs. Google Willow. Virtual flavors. Another electric lollipop.
Security: Fishing with corrupted docx (and more). Robots and special forces. New Jersey drones.
Random: letter to opensource maintainers. A fun video about Strandbeest (and the beginning of a rabbit hole with a good github repo). HN 2024 thread on PI projects.
AI: Online courses, augmented. The AI divide. White collar copilots. Should kids kill parents over screen time limits? OF users and DM impersonators. GPT era coming to an end.
# Reflections of Uncertainty
The sun had just dipped below the horizon in Viganella, leaving the town in its habitual three-month embrace of darkness. Yet, instead of the usual gloom, there was a buzz of excitement as the townsfolk gathered in the main square, illuminated by an enormous, glimmering mirror designed to reflect the last rays of the day. It was a festive atmosphere, reminiscent of the time when they had first turned on the mirror—a triumph against nature, a beacon of hope in a world too often shrouded in uncertainty.
At the center of this gathering stood a peculiar figure: a self-styled futurist named Quinn, who was convinced that the drones reported over New Jersey were sent by intergalactic insurance agents surveying Earth for potential high-risk clients. "Have you seen the state of our healthcare system?" Quinn quipped to an amused crowd, "They must be taking notes!"
Quinn’s musings were interrupted by a news alert on their phone: UnitedHealthcare’s CEO had been assassinated, triggering a wave of mixed reactions online. Some celebrated the event, while others were simply too numbed by the relentless cycle of violence and corporate neglect to care. “It’s like a social media funeral with no one showing up,” Quinn muttered, scrolling through the apathetic comments. The world seemed to have collectively decided that a high-profile life was worth less than a low-cost prescription.
As Quinn continued their ramblings, the local barista, a former OnlyFans chatter turned philosopher, chimed in, “Isn’t it funny how technology is replacing us in the most personal ways? I used to get paid to flirt, now it’s all AI chatbots doing the heavy lifting.” He sighed, pointing to a group of teens nearby, their faces illuminated by their phones, engaged with a chatbot that promised engagement without the emotional baggage of real human connection.
Meanwhile, the town's mayor, a woman adept at navigating both local politics and the existential dread of modern life, interrupted, "What we need is to embrace uncertainty. Just look at Syria! Their government collapsed faster than a poorly built Lego tower. We ought to be prepared for anything—drones, assassinations, or the sudden rise of a new social-emotional AI that starts a cult around emotional support llamas.” She winked, stirring laughter among the crowd.
As the laughter subsided, Quinn stared at the mirror, contemplating the bizarre blend of technology and humanity. “You know, the way we chase progress these days feels less like a race and more like a drunken dance-off. One moment we’re innovating with quantum chips and the next, we’re left wondering if the AI is actually sentient or just really good at mimicking our worst impulses.”
Suddenly, a shadow flickered across the mirror, and the townsfolk gasped as a drone descended, its lights flickering ominously. Quinn, ever the optimist, raised a hand and declared, “Ah, our visitors have arrived! Perhaps they’ve come for a grief retreat—or to negotiate our healthcare plans!”
With a collective breath held, the townspeople watched as the drone hovered, then released a small package that landed softly in the square. Quinn approached cautiously and opened it, revealing a single, lollipop-shaped device that promised to enhance flavor experiences in virtual reality. “Well, if we can’t have sunlight all winter, at least we can have a taste of the future!”
As laughter erupted once more, Quinn grinned, knowing that amidst the chaos, the town had found a moment of joy—a collective acceptance of the absurdity of their situation.
And so, the people of Viganella danced under their mirror, oblivious to the dark clouds above, savoring each taste of uncertainty with laughter, just as they had learned to do.
Life, much like a lollipop, can be sweet, sticky, and occasionally, a bit of a hard candy cough drop when you least expect it.
There’s a fine line between engagement and entrapment, and it appears many have signed up for the wrong package.
It’s a little-known fact that insurance agents are the real space cowboys, roaming the cosmos to find new ways to deny claims.