20260118
“[…] I suggest investing in gyms that don’t just put our physical appearance to the test but also our mental capacity to think, analyze, judge, be decisive, and create. Our forefathers didn’t need to go to the gym every day because their day-to-day lives required them to be relatively physically fit. But industrial automation and tools have made us rely less on our physical strength and endurance and more on our cognition. Today, we have to simulate certain physical conditions that put our physics under stress in order to keep us healthy. Going forward, with AI doing much of the cognition tasks for us, to stay conatively healthy, we need to subscribe to gyms that sustain our brain muscles’ mental aptitude at optimum levels.” Mehdi Paryavi
» Have you tried the futures tool I’ve made that uses these nuggets to assemble a possible future?
People: Permission to hibernate (and good cycles). Speed watching (FR). Luxury board games. US exports of blood.
Resilience as stories from the EU.Business: From work to outcomes (cf billable hour below). Business perf and nature dependencies.
Tech: Zentropy and transparent ceramics. The copper peak. From BTC to AI.
Security: Was Ursa Major transporting reactors.
Futures: through stories (PDF). Some 2026 predictions. Regenerative 2050 futures.
AI: and juniors. The billable hour. Work. AI for Maori culture. From tools to employees?
The Symphony of Progress and Nostalgia
In a world where the air hummed with artificial intelligence, a peculiar incident unfolded in Corsicana, Texas. A vast bitcoin mine, its steel bones glinting in the blistering sun, had undergone a metamorphosis, much like a caterpillar that decided its future lay in starting a podcast instead of taking flight. Instead of mining dark cryptocurrencies, Riot Platforms—now Riot AI, for those who keep score—was pivoting decidedly toward lucrative AI contracts, all while quietly watching bitcoin’s value plummet faster than the New Year’s resolutions of an overzealous dieter.
This shift was particularly noteworthy not just for its suddenness but because it encapsulated the first major index of the new workforce: a kaleidoscope of fractionalized employees, as one insightful publication had dubbed them. Jobs used to require long-term commitments, but now people found themselves engaging in gig work as casually as they swiped through dating apps—frighteningly efficient yet precariously unstable. The Rethinking Work Show had suggested a new era of uncoupling work from traditional jobs. “Haven’t you heard?” a neighbor mused over his organic kombucha, “We don’t need offices anymore; we just need Wi-Fi and robust neuroses.”
Yet while some indulged in the life-affirming art of ‘wintering’ through the productivity-depressing December, others raced toward the future with dazzling abandon. In a nearby high-rise office, software agents—once considered mere tools—now behaved like confident interns, multitasking and vying for corner offices with indifferent charm. AI was suddenly the hottest employee on the block. “Perhaps we should hand out name tags,” said Mara, the office manager, chuckling nervously as she sipped her cold brew, “You know, to distinguish between Josh in HR and Josh 2.0, the new AI lead.”
If anything could inspire employees to resist rest, it was a marketing campaign featuring luxury board games like Balenciaga Monopoly, complete with a ‘Drink’ tax that sent adults scrambling for the nearest overpriced cocktail. Boards could now cost as much as a down payment on that elusive home, a subtle reminder that sometimes, it’s better to gamble on property than on the market—until you realized both were out of reach!
Despite the dizzying pace of technological progress, a pair of Indigenous innovators in rural New Zealand dared to navigate these choppy waters. With the mission of reviving the Māori language using their own AI algorithms, they wrestled the technology away from the Silicon Valley giants, proving that even in a realm dominated by speed-watching and rapid-fire social media, there existed space for nurturance of culture and heritage. Their initiative wasn’t just brilliant—it was a gentle decree against the chaotic hum of the modern world.
“All this fuss over copper shortages,” fretted Mara one busy afternoon as she read article after article, “What will become of us if all we have left are AI agents playing Monopoly with no resources?” Yes, world production was dwindling, and strangely, her thoughts danced back to the ship, Ursa Major, which had sunk beneath the waves—carrying far more than anyone had expected.
So, as the age of AI unfolds like a poorly stacked game of Jenga, the real challenge wasn’t only navigating the advancing technology while keeping a cool head. It was about retaining humanity—the laugh shared over a game, the breath taken during a necessary pause, and the tender reclamation of languages and identities that history attempted to erase. After all, in this brave new world of rapidity where AI danced on the edges of existence, the scent of nostalgia might just be the most valuable resource of all.
And as for the future? Only time could find out if they would refine change or become mere spectators in a reality show, entertaining the whims of the unpredictable tides that lay ahead. It’s quite astonishing, really—how quickly the future can become the present—almost as quickly as blood products began to account for 1.8% of exports. Who knew?