Which cinematic alien or monster do you think my huevos rancheros looks like? I’m seeing Dr. Zoidberg.

I have a confession. I don’t know where to take the book I’m writing. I actually feel kind of stupid for even having thought I should write a book, when all I had was a handful of good ideas. It’s not that I have writer’s block, as much as I’m out of ideas …
📷 Instrument (#mbmar Micro Blog March photo challenge prompt suggested by @UnfocusedWanderlust)
On Friday I was photographing Los Sagrados for their new website, and a musician came out to perform the flute and percussion for the horses. It was quite a thing to witness.

All eyes on Apple’s AI move, are they going full neural?
I’ve spent the last week mulling an idea about Apple and AI then Linus goes and writes a piece which basically is what I was going to write, with the only addition, to keep an eye on Stability AI and Stable Diffusion. Apple has made a few small moves in their direction recently.
My guess is that any Apple LLM/AI move will be under the brand of Siri, albeit an extension or added product to what we know as Siri in early 2023.
Disco tech

Luna and I flexing our frequent flyer privileges this afternoon.
This week in cactus
While Britt’s been away this last fortnight I’ve had heaps of one-on-one time with Goldie while her big sister is at school.
Jose M. Gilgado on embracing a title to help you actually become, that title:
The earlier you use that new term: “athlete,” “writer,” or “artist,” the easier it will be to accept your new identity and act accordingly.
Jon Haidt in Why the Mental Health of Liberal Girls Sank First and Fastest:
There was a culture that was encouraged on Tumblr, which was to be able to describe your unique non-normative self. That’s to some extent a feature of modern society anyway. But it was taken to such an extreme that people began to describe this as the “snowflake” (referring to the idea that each snowflake is unique), the person who constructs a totally kind of boutique identity for themselves; then guards that identity in a very, very sensitive way; and reacts in an enraged way when anyone does not respect the uniqueness of their identity. On the other side of the political spectrum, there was the most insensitive culture imaginable: 4chan. The communities involved in gender activism on Tumblr were mostly young progressive women while 4Chan was mostly used by right-leaning young men, so there was an increasingly gendered nature to the online conflict. The two communities supercharged each other with their mutual hatred, as often happens in a culture war. The young identity activists on Tumblr embraced their new notions of identity, fragility and trauma all the more tightly, increasingly saying that words are a form of violence. Meanwhile, the young men on 4Chan moved in the opposite direction; they brandished a rough and rude masculinity in which status was gained by using words more insensitively than the next guy. It was out of this reciprocal dynamic that today’s Cancel Culture was born in the early 2010s. Then, in 2013, it escaped from Tumblr into the much larger Twitterverse. Once on Twitter, it went national and even global (at least within the English-speaking countries), producing the mess we all live with today.
Bono and The Edge’s Tiny Desk Concert is beautiful. In particular, the “argument between two mates”, Stuck in Moment You Can’t Get Out Of.

Missing home/Australia/Gold Coast tonight
Helen Garner on happiness in The Guardian:
What is happiness, anyway? Does anybody know? It’s taken me 80 years to figure out that it’s not a tranquil, sunlit realm at the top of the ladder you’ve spent your whole life hauling yourself up, rung by rung. It’s more like the thing that Christians call grace: you can’t earn it, you can’t strive for it, it’s not a reward for virtue. It exists all right, it will be given to you, but it’s fluid, it’s evasive, it’s out of reach. It’s something you glimpse in the corner of your eye until one day you’re up to your neck in it. And before you’ve had time to take a big gasp and name it, it’s gone.
Virginia Heffernan in the Wired article on TSMC, “I Saw the Face of God in a Semiconductor Factory”:
In 1675, A French merchant named Jacques Savary published The Perfect Merchant, a mercantile manual that came to double as a guide for doing commerce around the world. Albert O. Hirschman cites Savary to explain how capitalism, which would have been regarded as little but avarice as recently as the 16th century, became the sanest ambition of humans in the 17th.
Savary strongly believed that international trade would be the antidote to war. Humans can’t conduct polyglot commerce across borders without cultivating an understanding of foreign laws, customs, and cultures. Savary also believed the Earth’s resources and the fellowship created by commerce were God-given. “It’s not God’s will that all human necessities be found in the same place,” Savary wrote. “Divine Providence has dispersed its gifts so that humans will trade together and find that their mutual need to help each other establishes ties of friendship among them.”
It’s been four months since I’ve blasted this idea across the internet, so here’s my regular reminder that I blog before I post on social, and that blog automatically sends a weekly roundup to anyone that subscribes.
I can’t stop thinking about this RIAA story with Steve Jobs. It’s amazing how fragile - while also strong - the world is. Thank God Rogue Amoeba made it through, I use their software every day.
How to cook soup, by the late Dean Allen:
First, you need some water. Fuse two hydrogen with one oxygen and repeat until you have enough. While the water is heating, raise some cattle. Pay a man with grim eyes to do the slaughtering, preferably while you are away. Roast the bones, then add to the water. Go away again. Come back once in awhile to skim. When the bones begin to float, lash together into booms and tow up the coast. Reduce. Keep reducing. When you think you have reduced enough, reduce some more. Raise some barley. When the broth coats the back of a spoon and light cannot escape it, you are nearly there. Pause to mop your brow as you harvest the barley. Search in vain for a cloud in the sky. Soak the barley overnight (you will need more water here), then add to the broth. When, out of the blue, you remember the first person you truly loved, the soup is ready. Serve.