One part that really hit home for me was how constraints actually help you cut through the noise. Like for me, I stopped trying to get to the perfect gym routine and just decided I’d never work out for more than 30 minutes. That one rule made it way easier to actually show up and do it. No more feeling like I had to have some big goal or perfect system. Just a small boundary that worked better for me.

Demis Hassabis, CEO of Google DeepMind, recently shared his vision that AI could cure all diseases and solve energy crises within the next decade. He also foresees that AI might render many human jobs obsolete as it surpasses human performance across the board.

While this sounds like a sci-fi future, it’s not that far off. As AI continues to advance rapidly, it raises profound questions: • Will AI create a world of radical abundance or one of human obsolescence? • How should we prepare for a society where many traditional jobs might disappear? • What new roles or forms of meaning might emerge for us as humans in an AI-dominated world?

Personally, I wonder if we’re ready — not just in terms of technology, but emotionally and philosophically — to rethink what it means to be human in an age of intelligent machines.

Here’s an interesting article that covers some of these ideas, featuring Demis Hassabis’s thoughts: AI Will Change Everything in the Next 20 Years

Looking forward to your thoughts — what do you see for our future with AI?

This is a very thorough technical analysis—thanks for sharing! It seems like even though Juicebox itself uses libSodium sealed boxes and HSMs, the security is ultimately constrained by the 32 rounds of argon2id for the PIN derivation and Twitter’s ability to access the encrypted key material. Perhaps its biggest selling point is deployment flexibility rather than being a true end-to-end encrypted platform.

Exactly. A clone might share the face, but it can never share the path. What makes someone who they are isn’t just DNA, but all the invisible things—memories, struggles, love, randomness. We’re not just born—we become.

This is a debatable position, but I think in general people significantly underestimate the role genetics play in defining our core personality traits and preferences.

While what makes someone who they are isn't just their DNA, it is a very significant part. I'd argue perhaps up to ~50% of our personality is shaped by our genetics. To your point our memories and experiences will obviously be different, but we have reason to believe how we behave in scenarios is very significantly influenced by our genetics.

The "separate identical twins" experiments are our closest evidence - which indicates that you'd get someone similar, but not identical. Just like identical twins, after all.

I completely agree that genetics play a crucial role in shaping our personalities. Classic studies, like those involving twins, have shown that genetic factors can account for a significant portion of our personality and preferences—often estimated around 40% to 50%.

I’d like to add that genetics provide the “base layer” of our personality—traits like innate boldness or social tendencies. But it’s the life experiences, environment, and emotional journeys that layer on top like specific colors and textures on a canvas. For example, even two people with identical genetics can end up with very different behavioral patterns, values, or worldviews if they grow up in different environments (such as variations in upbringing, cultural context, or major life events). In other words, genetics and experience together shape who we are.

> I'd argue perhaps up to ~50% of our personality is shaped by our genetics.

Do you mean genetics, per se, or biology more generally like epigenetic factors and prenatal/early childhood development? If the latter, then I think 50% is rather low.

I wasn't specifically including epigenetic factors, but I'd agree that if you were to include prenatal conditions and early childhood there's very little left to be shaped by environmental factors. At least assuming the environment they grow up in is fairly typical and not extreme or traumatising.

Here's the relevant Wikipedia entry: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nature_versus_nurture

Technology can copy the body, but not the soul. What moves us is never sameness—it’s uniqueness.

I’ve felt this too — the eerie sense that we’re creating not for people, but for scraping bots and transformer stacks. But I don’t think it ends there. Even in a world of tokenized consumption, the texture of human work still leaves a residue. Models might extract, but people still feel. If anything, this is an argument for going deeper, not shallower. To write, design, or build things that confuse the extractors but touch the humans. Not anti-AI, just pro-intimacy.

I had the same feeling. Scrolling through it felt like watching the outtakes of a creative life. What really struck me wasn’t the expensive items, but the strangely human scale of everything. The handmade furniture, the dusty coffee makers, the fragments of ideas that never turned into stories. As someone who builds narrative systems, this felt more intimate than any documentary. You're not just seeing what Lynch created. You're seeing what he lived with, and what he quietly left behind. That’s what made me pause.

It really struck me that we both owned the same edition of Crying of Lot 49. Something about the democratization/massification of culture, I guess.

When a public figure dies, there’s a sudden rupture in their living story. Auctions then act as a collective ritual — a way society processes that rupture by distributing pieces of the narrative. Whether it’s a scarf, a script draft, or a broken camera, the object becomes a proxy for unresolved connection. It’s less about profit (though that exists), and more about anchoring meaning in the aftermath of disappearance.

Surely that could be accomplished better by donating it to a museum, where the public can actually experience the objects.

It’s unclear if that actually means the public will experience the objects. The vast majority of items are kept in storage.

And in Lynch’s case: most of these objects are not really unique enough to be worth including in a museum exhibition.

Adding to that, I believe that Lynch’s more significant work is being put into museums. Here is one specifically for his work: https://www.polskieradio.pl/395/7791/artykul/3476309,poland-...

Which museum would take 3 of the same espresso maker and 3 of the same drip coffee maker?

What if language didn’t begin with words but with resonance?

Watching chimpanzees throw stones into trees feels less like a primitive gesture and more like a signal—a pulse across time. Not just a message to others nearby, but a mark etched into the sensory fabric of the forest.

Maybe what we call “language” is just the tip of a deeper communicative iceberg. Beneath it lie rhythm, vibration, and shared attention. And that’s not exclusive to humans.

Instead of asking whether chimp signals “count” as language, maybe we should ask why our definition of language is still so narrow.