Scientists have discovered that cuttlefish use distinct arm movements to communicate with each other, adding another dimension to these already remarkable marine creatures. Researchers […] have identified specific arm gestures they’ve named “arm wave signs” that appear to serve as a communication system between cuttlefish. The study, published this month in bioRxiv, reveals that these underwater signals can be perceived both visually and through water vibrations – essentially creating a multi-sensory conversation. — ScienceBlog
People: Environment and brain tumours? Tracked during protests (with fake protesters). ‘I don’t know’ is dying. Standing out. Writing as therapy.
Business: CN and tariffs. Intel loosing 20% of its staff. Burners at borders.
Tech: live translation with glasses. TSMC 2nm. Robots swarms for construction. Nuclear renaissance and SMRs (and thorium?).
Futures: Emerging technologies (EU-2024). 3 worlds in 2035. Foresight projects.
Security: CN and the Typhoon attack. NSA boss ousted.
AI: NATO and Palantir for war. Palantir and DOGE. Emotional attachment to robots - and chatbots as friends. AI and therapy. Explainability. UK MOD about AI ethics.
Cognitive hygiene.Random rabbit hole: AI by 2027.
The Absurdity of Tomorrow
The Gobi Desert had always been a place where one could appreciate the whispers of the universe—namely the whisper of gigantic nuclear developments hidden beneath the sand—and a glass of fermented camel’s milk could be had for a few yuan. As Thalia wandered through this desolate expanse, she marveled at the recently inaugurated thorium-powered nuclear reactor. In the grand tradition of things that shouldn’t work but somehow do, this gleaming structure—so revolutionary it could’ve been a contestant on a sci-fi talent show—was now fully operational. Its molten salt reactor design was the star of a modern alchemical dream, transforming the mundane into power without the melodrama typically associated with nuclear reactors—like having a well-behaved dragon as a house pet.
Just as she was admiring this feat, her phone beeped insistently, a barrage of notifications streaming in like a river of digital chaos. Instead of browsing the memes of poorly timed political jokes, Thalia read about recent cyberattacks, voluminously sourced from the depths of an overburdened SMTP server. Apparently, the infamous Volt Typhoon had returned—careful not to wake the sleeping bear but intent on sending shivers down the spine of American infrastructure. “Ah, yes,” she mused, “perfect timing for the stock market to flutter like a paper crane caught in a tornado.”
Undeterred, Thalia flicked through news articles as she sipped her synthetic caffeine, brewed this morning using the SmartCuppa, a machine so advanced it could judge your life choices along with your coffee preferences. Her mind drifted to the convoluted worlds of generational workforce reshuffling. Intel’s latest restructuring plan, where it seemed approximately a sixth of their employees would find themselves indulging in spontaneous early retirement, reminded her of musical chairs where the music was a sequence of rapid layoffs and management's relentless quest to trim the fat from its corporate frame.
Suddenly focused, she rifled through her travel notes and checked her digital privacy. The U.S. borders had become something akin to a stage for an Orwellian play, where each traveler’s device could become the star of the show in a cybersecurity disaster. She sighed—a sanitized phone was really just a motivational poster in digital form. “Do you feel safer yet?” the poster would say in blaring Comic Sans.
In an unexpected turn, her AI-powered personal assistant interrupted her reverie. “Hey there, Thalia! Thinking about trying that AI dating app? Apparently, people are forming real connections with algorithms.” Thalia audibly snorted, “Right, because nothing says romance like a carefully programmed response tailored to my most obscure interests. Let me just swipe right on the 'What’s your favorite social dilemmas?' filter.”
Just as she was about to dismiss the idea outright, a thought struck her like a cuttlefish’s arm wave signs: what if she could train an AI to understand her emotions? She recalled a study suggesting that soldiers often anthropomorphize robots they work with—a truth that made her wonder if she was missing out on a relationship of depth by insisting on human companionship alone. Meanwhile, half a world away, another AI was attempting to create something resembling friendship through the tenets of Explainable AI. She could almost hear Laughing AI applauding her philosophical digression.
And within this swirling nexus of technological oddities—the promise of AI, the cutting-edge advances in nuclear safety, and the playful yet serious introspection on societal norms—Thalia caught her breath. The future was not just a linear timeline, but a bewildering tapestry of interwoven lives (robotic and human alike) navigating the dense fog of uncertainty.
“Maybe,” she thought, “the key to standing out isn’t just being authentic but being equipped to engage with the absurdity of the world at large—now, who’s got the time for that when the robots keep asking about my feelings?” With that, she took one last look at the reactor, the horizon shimmering with untold potential, and embraced the strange, delightful madness of existence.