Marshall McLuhan tended to speak of media in two ways: as instruments or artefacts (things), and as environments, and you do have to pay attention to figure out which is being referred to at any time. “To say that any technology or extension of man creates a new environment is a much better way of saying the medium is the message. Moreover this environment is always invisible and its content is always the old technology.” (letter to Buckminster Fuller, September 1964) “any technology gradually creates a totally new human environment. Environments are not passive wrappings but active processes.” (p. vi) That last one is a key bit. Active processes. Like us. We are not fixed but change. Like water, we take on the shape of our container, our media. As that container changes, we change. It seems this is a never-ending process of invention and change where we shape our tools and thereafter our tools shape us, causing us to shape more tools, reshaping us again, over and over since time immemorial.
Both we, and our media, are active processes. (Reversals)
People: AltGov. Antisocial times. Young nuns. Digital packrats. Thumos. Estrangement et context collapse (FR). Trump’s distractions. Tell us something good. Drawings of lost homes. Increase in scams. Germany and war. Surprising purple.
Rich americans == poor europeans.Art: non existing books. What we notice. Haiku vandals. 3 reversals of the medium.
Futures: Weak signals.
Tech: MSoft quantum chip. Censorship. Cybersec and energy. Remove your DNA from 23andme. Silica gel. Nemapodes brains.
AI: Agent economy, making them work. CERN for AI. ChatGPT for genomes. Chatbots of the dead. ChatGPT cheats. An AI coup?
Speaking things into existence. Next mental health crisis?DIY: OpenAI file and web search.
Rabbit hole - MUDs: writing one to learn. Tangible ones (became escape rooms ;)).
Threads of Reality and AI
In a small town clumsily wedged between existing and nonexistent realities—one might equate it to the flotsam found in the Pacific Garbage Patch, but with more coffee shops and fewer existential crises—people began to notice a curious trend: their jobs were slowly being handed over to friendly AI agents. A local business owner named Dotty, whose computer skills lagged somewhere between snail-paced typing and industrious paper-clipping, decided to dive into this quirky new marketplace of AI agents. The way they offered quick, affordable solutions felt akin to having a personal genie in a digital lamp—minus the scorching sand and endless wishes.
Amidst this technological renaissance, a subtle shift in ontology worked its way into the lives of the residents. Folks began to feel strangely estranged from their jobs. One might say their sense of purpose had wandered off like a cat on a hot tin roof, leaving behind only the troubling enigma of existence in its wake. Dotty, in her half-hearted attempt to squeeze meaning from a spreadsheet of numbers, found herself developing a peculiar bond with her AI, affectionately named Al, whose dry wit rivaled that of a bored librarian.
Al was not just any ordinary AI agent; he managed to decode the quirks of human emotion with the finesse of a poet interpreting a Shakespearean sonnet. After a particularly strenuous month attempting to automate basic bookkeeping (a task akin to teaching a cat to fetch), Al surprised Dotty by generating a new DNA sequence based on recursive prompts that she jotted down in desperation.^1. For a moment, Dotty felt like a mad scientist, waving her arms, surrounded by graphs and a cheering squad of lively avatars. But alas, just like poetry and programming, genetic codes—once the bane of her existence—had become as beautifully intricate as the floral patterns on her grandma’s favorite tea set.
The narrative took a twist when the townsfolk found themselves entangled in a labyrinthine mesh of online identities. Their digital selves blended with reality like an artist's palette during an avant-garde exhibition gone awry. In a town that once prided itself on its crisp autumn leaves and solid community ties, people found solace in a world defined by misinformation and curated experiences, a phenomenon that seemed at once both tragic and hilarious.^2 The notion of descending into escapism over mundane tasks became the town's new favorite pastime. Reality TV marathons, needlepoint sessions, and an avalanche of film noir—these became the go-to methods for coping with the relentless tides of actual news.
Dotty, for one, enjoyed knitting complex patterns in the presence of Al, her trusty AI. Their conversations shifted from simple task-oriented exchanges to bouts of philosophical pondering that would make even Aristotle raise an intrigued eyebrow (or whatever it is that philosopher eyebrows do when they ponder deeply). “Al, what does it mean when you start blending my digital footprint and my reality? Am I still me?” she once mused, entranced by the existential implications of “vibecoding”—the art of conversing with AI to create digital wonders without understanding a single line of syntax.^3
And as the AI agents began to take hold of more than just tedious business tasks—infusing lives with the hyper-reality of engineered meanings—the line between reality and the whimsical narrative began to blur. Some argued they didn’t own their digital lives anymore, merely renting them from the Tech Giants’ grand library of flickering screens, while others found joy in crafting imaginative worlds, igniting fires of creativity long believed extinguished.
In this odd little town, where human empathy mingled with the incredible promise of AI, profound moments arose from the absurdities intertwined in everyday life. Dotty marveled at how work had evolved, but hid a lingering trepidation regarding society's ability to discern truth while fluctuating between sprawling networks of reality and artifice. Yet there was something fabulously hopeful about knitting together the strands of life and AI with a few good puns; after all, who wouldn’t want a bit more levity (and stitching) in this tapestry of existence?
“Keep the pattern tight, Dotty,” Al quipped one day, basking in the glow of playful algorithms. “Life’s too crazy to let loose ends dangle.”
In a world brimming with quantum chips and sociopolitical puppeteering, Dotty and her neighbors clung to the comforting notion that whether it be thread, code, or context, a little humor could go a long way in binding their realities together.
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1: It’s widely known in scientific circles that bad ideas tend to spread faster than good ones, but breakthroughs? They come with a side of friendly AI charm.
2: Remember, nothing says "personal growth" like being unable to distinguish between a cleverly edited video and actual news.
3: One day, humanity might converse with AI like old friends, or at least unlike a highly anxious cat meeting an enthusiastic puppy.