Writers have to deal with interruptions. I think that’s universal — among writers, at least. It’s pretty common to read that a writer has a garden shed, or a private nook, or an attic, or some private place. A writer’s environment shapes their work, for sure, but the immediate environment can also sometimes function as… Continue reading

Once you have a broadcast station, you have to broadcast something. And once you decide to publish a periodical, you have to print something. Sometimes that “something” turns into “anything.” International Business Times (IBT) sounds like a perfectly normal, staid, commercial publishing outlet. It’s based in the UK, and has a typical financial results crawl… Continue reading

I get text messages. A typical one begins “This is Barack Obama…” First of all, no it isn’t. Second of all, these messages are invariably just requests for donations. Nothing else, just money. Third of all, I’m not even a Democrat! It must be even worse if you are. Continue reading

The most powerful Macintosh available now is (I think) the Mac Studio. I think it’s more capable than the Mac Pro, although I could be wrong. In any event, the M2 Ultra Mac Studio is a system that would have been called a supercomputer not that long ago, and you can have one, or even… Continue reading

November seventh turns out to be the anniversary of three of the oldest things around. In 1492, on the outskirts of Ensisheim, France, a meteorite fell — it’s the oldest one with a record of when it arrived. Then in 1665, in London, the London Gazette was first published. It’s the oldest journal in the… Continue reading

This is in McSweeny’s Internet Tendency: “A Reminder to Submit Your First Week Attendance to the Registrar, in the Style of Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses” by Ben Steere. This is from The New Yorker: “Why AI Isn’t Going To Make Art,” by Ted Chiang. Chiang is the author of extremely thoughtful speculative fiction,… Continue reading

In 1812, a bit later in the year than it is now, there was a warm spell in Boston. In those days it was called Indian Summer, and a clergyman in the city explained the term this way (he may have been making it up): “This charming season is called the Indian Summer, a name… Continue reading