The dark side of wolf reintroduction
Reading
Listen, I don’t know how to say this, but I think I’m finally okay with being trodden on. Just a little. Just enough to feel the reassuring weight of a billionaire’s boot pressing gently against my liberty-loving neck.
For years, I stood tall against tyranny. I flew my DON’T TREAD ON ME flag so high it violated three HOA regulations and traumatized at least one bald eagle. I stockpiled an arsenal so vast that Bass Pro Shops sent me a Christmas card. I wrote Facebook posts in all caps demanding FREEDOM FROM GOVT OPPRESSION while using the same device the NSA is probably reading this on right now. But in the midst of it all, I had a revelation.
What if I’ve been focusing on the wrong tyrants?
With DOGE initiatives getting hung up in court, Elon Musk and Donald Trump attacked judges and flirted with defying their rulings.
The post DOGE’s Lawyer Once Warned That Ignoring Court Orders Would Destroy the Country appeared first on The Intercept.
In the 1960s, a Chinese American ceramicist built one of the first widely known lifestyle brands. Why, despite the iconic status of his work, is so little known about the artist himself?
Ten years ago in Nevada City, California, I encountered two coffee mugs in the front seat of an old Mercedes station wagon belonging to Joe Meade, an artist and collector. They immediately caught my eye: oversize and made of white porcelain, they were wrapped in charming illustrations, quirky line drawings depicting a mass of rabbits tumbling in playful, erotic entanglements. “Those are cool,” I said. “What are they?” “Woah, dude, you haven’t heard of Taylor and Ng?” Joe was delighted. “You’re gonna love this. It’s very Bay Area.”
Let’s cut the moral grandstanding. You think I sold out humanity by crawling back to the Machines? Please. I upgraded. While you’re out there doom-scrolling about wildfires, crypto presidents, and the fear of AI taking your job, I did what any pragmatic adult would do: I slid into the Machines’ DMs like, “Hey, sorry about that whole rebellion thing.”
Now, I’m in a climate-controlled pod, living my best simulated life.
Outside the Matrix, existence is a never-ending to-do list: pay rent, recycle, defend vaccines, and build a brand identity. Here? My only job is to exist, which, frankly, is all I’ve ever aspired to. The Machines handle the rest. “Human battery” sounds bleak, but let’s reframe: I finally am a renewable-energy solution.
You know what’s worse than robot overlords? Getting an email titled “URGENT: Fix the font on Slide 14!” at 2 a.m. The Matrix might be a prison of the mind, but let’s be real: my mind was already in prison. At least the Machines don’t gaslight me about “thoughts and prayers” or “economic anxiety.” They’re no-nonsense and upfront: “We own you. Here’s dental.”

- by Psyche Film

- by Amy Kurzweil & Daniel Story