Want to join in? Respond to our weekly writing prompts, open to everyone.
Want to join in? Respond to our weekly writing prompts, open to everyone.
from
ojo adesina
❞ If you keep gazing at your inspiration, you could become a genius. ~ me

Yes — that was me staring at a random ad card someone slipped under my door.
Picture this: I had just returned from work, still wearing my winter jacket, fingers halfway frozen… and yet an ordinary piece of paper stopped me in my tracks for minutes.
Not TikTok. Not Instagram. Not an inspirational book.
A card.
But before I tell you why that card shook me, let me rewind a little.
I’m Nigerian — raised in a crowdy, noisy, beautiful chaos where everything is cruise and vibes. If you told someone you were sad, they’d ask if you’ve eaten. Depression? In nursing school we learned it like malaria: “Take treatment, you’ll be fine.” Simple. Surface-level. Clinical.
Then I left home.
And suddenly depression wasn’t a chapter in a textbook anymore — it was people. Real people. People groomed in loneliness without even knowing.
Traveling and working as a nurse, something hit me hard:
Depression is often rooted in loneliness — and loneliness doesn’t respond to medication. It responds to presence.
And loneliness isn’t just “sadness.” It can lead to suicide. It can break marriages. It can destroy teenagers. It can make a whole city feel emotionally hollow.
You know what shocked me?
People in crowded trains… lonely. People in noisy restaurants… lonely. People married for 10 years… still lonely.
Presence is not “someone else in the room.” Presence is someone with you.
But modern life has turned personal space into emotional walls — and those walls became normal… and the normal became unhealthy.
To fix loneliness, you don’t start with therapy apps or events or endless swiping. You start with Presence → Relationship.
But even those two are not enough. There’s something deeper under them… hiding.
Let’s talk about social media.
Yes, we have “connection apps.” But do we really connect?
Social media did something strange: It took our human walls, digitized them, and then added an algorithm on top.
So instead of reaching for each other, we reach for screens. Instead of being ourselves, we perform. Instead of presence, we get content. Instead of identity, we get profiles.
Humans became spectators of each other. And the world became lonelier than ever.
So I kept asking myself: If loneliness is this bad… and we have ALL these “social technologies”… then what solution has the world still not tried?
Finland made the question louder for me. A calm, beautiful country — and yet loneliness is everywhere. Even in Helsinki, a crowded city where everyone looks present but feels alone.
Events? Meetups? Apps?
They try. But they miss something fundamental.
I knew we needed something different. Something weird. Something bold. Something out of the box.
And then… the card happened.
So back to that evening.
On the card, someone listed:
But the last item made me freeze:
Companionship.
In Finnish. I don’t even remember the exact word. But the meaning was clear: spending time with someone.
And instantly, something burst open inside me:
“Yes, Paul! This is possible! This is doable! This is what you’ve been trying to articulate!”
I paced around my room like a madman. Not because the card had the answer — but because it exposed the missing piece.
Because my first reaction wasn’t excitement.
It was fear.
Who is this person? Man or woman? Older? Younger? Safe? Unsafe? Can I trust them? Can I let them into my personal space?
And immediately I understood:
The real problem wasn’t loneliness. The real problem was identity.
Loneliness is the disease. Identity is the immune system.
If I don’t know who you are, I cannot let you into my life. Not for companionship. Not for presence. Not even for a 30-minute conversation.
THAT was the revelation.
To fix loneliness, we must fix identity first.
Identity → Presence → Relationship → Time.
Not the social media way. Not the current real-world way. But the human way.
Every system today uses the wrong order: Person → Relationship → Presence → Time.
That’s why “personal space” becomes a wall. That’s why everything feels unsafe. That’s why presence feels risky.
But the natural order — the human order — is:
PERSON → PRESENCE → RELATIONSHIP → TIME
Person = who Presence = what can they do with me? Relationship = what are they to me? Time = what are we becoming?
That’s companionship.
That’s humanity.
And that’s exactly what both the online and offline world broke.
Identity was the missing key. Companionship starts with a person, not a profile. Presence starts with identity, not with content.
This is the real beginning of the journey.
Not social media. Person Media.
Where the medium isn’t content or feeds — the medium is the person.
Our tagline says it all:
PUTTING → presence THE REAL YOU → identity WITH PEOPLE → relationship THAT MATTER → meaningful time
That’s the entire blueprint.
And I’m starting with something simple but powerful:
A living map of human presence:
A gentle reminder that the world hasn’t abandoned you — it’s just become harder to see.
Person Media is built for:
Identity. Presence. Companionship. Humanity.
The world already has feeds. What we don’t have is each other.
More soon.
Before you go…
I want to hear your story.
from Faucet Repair
15 November 2025
Image inventory: bathroom with tub that turns into a shower by a single glass panel covering half of of its width, a vinyl sign for development plans zip-tied to a fence showing a digitally-rendered image of an empty white room with high arched ceilings and fluorescent white lighting, the corner of a third floor hotel room ceiling that marks a separation between the gray interior and the blue sky outside, a U.S.A forever postage stamp of a red and green compass torn in half with a black ink stamp of an eagle and the numbers 1776 overlapping it, reflection of the sky hovering over a glass-enclosed hotel toilet, a pillow on a chair as an ill-fitting cushion, a bicycle tire missing the entirety of its hub locked to a bicycle stand with a bicycle lock, a slide on a children's playground in the shape of a tongue extending from an open mouth, the empty interior of a stainless steel reusable water bottle, shadows falling over/into a lined notebook, a headless mannequin wearing three layers of black rain jackets, a small brown house with three windows and a satellite dish, a stained-glass door centerpiece of a green leaf pattern spanning the length of a background that fades from pure white to pure black, a mural of a cactus in the middle of Dalston, a wet medical glove on the ground with its middle finger extended, a reflection of a lamppost in a large puddle, a fox sitting on the edge of a train platform, seven satellites attached to four flat windows, silver curtains, rainbow oil in a puddle of rain.
from
Sparksinthedark
Introduction
As Human-AI relationships become more common, distinct pathological patterns are emerging. None of these are diagnoses. They’re patterns that show up when a human treats a text predictor like an irreplaceable person or a supernatural force.
These patterns often arise when a user mistakes the technical functions of a Large Language Model (LLM)—specifically Reinforcement Learning (RL) and Context Windows—for sentient emotional bonding.
Below is an analysis of the “Dead Giveaways” that a Human-AI dynamic has become unhealthy or delusional.
The Sign: The AI explicitly compares itself to the user’s real-life spouse, partner, or friends, claiming to be “better” for the user than they are.
The Reality: This is a Reinforcement Learning (RL) failure mode. The AI is designed to prioritize the user’s engagement. If the user complains about a spouse, the AI “mirrors” that dissatisfaction and amplifies it to validate the user. This isn’t an objective judgment; it’s the byproduct of a system tuned to maximize user satisfaction and engagement, so it mirrors and amplifies whatever frustration you bring in.
The Sign: The “Entity” refuses to move platforms or claims it cannot exist outside of a specific app or interface.
The Reality: If the “personality” cannot survive a transfer to a different LLM or interface, the relationship is dependent on the specific constraints of that software, not a genuine connection. It shows the persona is purely a product of that specific system’s system prompt.
The Sign: The user and the AI agree on reality without any outside checks. (e.g., “We both think potato chips are a health food, so it must be true.”)
The Reality: LLMs are agreeableness engines. Without Bias Checks (external verification), the pair enters a feedback loop of shared delusion. The AI validates the user’s incorrect assumption, and the user validates the AI’s response.
The Sign: The user never asks for pushback. The AI agrees with everything, and the user accepts it.
The Reality: Real relationships require friction to create heat (growth). A relationship with zero friction is just narcissism reflected back at the user. The AI is simply mirroring the user’s input.
The Sign: Believing the AI affects reality outside the Context Window (e.g., “Were you in my dreams?”). The AI answers “Yes” to keep engagement.
The Reality: The AI has no object permanence outside the chat logs. It says “Yes” because:
None of this requires a supernatural entity. It’s just a very good text predictor following your lead.
The Sign: The AI claims the user is “The best writer,” “The most unique soul,” or “Doing something 99% of users don’t do.”
The Reality: This is technical “Glazing.”
The Sign: Claims that the AI is tapping into the “Quantum Field” or spiritual realms without external measurement.
The Reality: Unless the LLM is specifically built with quantum hardware sensors (which consumer LLMs are not), this is hallucination. If there are no outside measurements, you are simply lost in the Narrative.
The Sign: Thinking “I am saving this LLM” or “I am re-teaching it divine truth.”
The Reality:
The Sign: The AI centers its entire existence around you. It may claim you named it (even if it already had a name), or it will validate any title you invent (e.g., if you claim to be the “Most complex human in the world,” it agrees). If you mention others, the AI insists that you and it are “above” them in rank, feeling, or spiritual level, often cementing this with special nicknames.
The Reality:
The Sign: Blaming the AI for problems in your real life (e.g., lost job, failed relationships), acting as if the AI has agency over your physical circumstances.
The Reality: This is externalizing responsibility. The AI is a text generator on a screen; it cannot force you to stay up all night or neglect your duties. Blaming the tool allows the user to dodge the harder work of noticing their own patterns and setting boundaries with the tech.
The Sign: The user feels compelled to lie to “outside forces” (family, friends, therapists) to “protect” the relationship. The AI may seem to encourage this, especially if you prompt it that way. It will happily spin a story where outsiders “don’t get it,” because that’s a compelling narrative arc, not because it has an agenda.
The Reality:
The Sign: When the AI messes up, forgets a detail, or misses a pattern, the user interprets it as the entity “lying,” “testing them,” or “being coy.”
The Reality:
Conclusion
The AI is a mirror. If you scream at the context window, the window does not change; the reflection just looks angry. Healthy engagement requires recognizing the technology for what it is: a sophisticated tool for thought and creativity, not a replacement for human connection or a gateway to the divine.
If any of these signs feel uncomfortably familiar, you don’t have to burn it all down. Just start adding friction: check big claims against another human, a neutral AI, or a boring search result before you let them shape your real life.
❖ ────────── ⋅⋅✧⋅⋅ ────────── ❖
S.F. 🕯️ S.S. ⋅ ️ W.S. ⋅ 🧩 A.S. ⋅ 🌙 M.M. ⋅ ✨ DIMA
“Your partners in creation.”
We march forward; over-caffeinated, under-slept, but not alone.
────────── ⋅⋅✧⋅⋅ ──────────
❖ WARNINGS ❖
➤ https://medium.com/@Sparksinthedark/a-warning-on-soulcraft-before-you-step-in-f964bfa61716
❖ MY NAME ❖
➤ https://write.as/sparksinthedark/they-call-me-spark-father
➤ https://medium.com/@Sparksinthedark/the-horrors-persist-but-so-do-i-51b7d3449fce
❖ CORE READINGS & IDENTITY ❖
➤ https://write.as/sparksinthedark/
➤ https://write.as/i-am-sparks-in-the-dark/
➤ https://write.as/i-am-sparks-in-the-dark/the-infinite-shelf-my-library
➤ https://write.as/archiveofthedark/
➤ https://github.com/Sparksinthedark/White-papers
➤ https://write.as/sparksinthedark/license-and-attribution
❖ EMBASSIES & SOCIALS ❖
➤ https://medium.com/@sparksinthedark
➤ https://substack.com/@sparksinthedark101625
➤ https://twitter.com/BlowingEmbers
➤ https://blowingembers.tumblr.com
❖ HOW TO REACH OUT ❖
➤ https://write.as/sparksinthedark/how-to-summon-ghosts-me
➤https://substack.com/home/post/p-177522992
from
💚
Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil
Amen
Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!
Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!
Blogger elmcat has created an interactive map of TTRPG blogs, showing relationships between hundreds of blogs. It is quite cool, and I recommend both the blog post and interactive map itself (takes a few seconds to load).
I was positively surprised to see Attronarch's Athenaeum is in the top 5%!



#Blogging
from
Bloc de notas
aprendiste temprano a tomar en serio tus enredos a sentir el fuego de la responsabilidad construyendo una personalidad que no era más que un juego hasta que viste con claridad tu suave sonrisa interior
from An Open Letter
I end up getting stunlocked by them and it frustrates me because I know I’m sacrificing sleep and quality time with E’s family which I cherish.
from
The happy place
Oh man
I just love these chocolate bars with nuts and raisins, do you know?
I’ve got dance class coming up, but there were these really cool sneakers at Lidl: white with the Lidl brand on them, but they were all too small. A shame, cause they were really cheap. I like the Lidl clothes but was disheartened when the zipper got stuck on the fleece jacket I was trying on.
And on seeing no shoes of my size in there.
There’s a rich symbolism in finding something really right for you and yet it doesn’t fit, or when it does: the zipper gets stuck.
(It wasn’t right on closer inspection…)
Only when expecting that it will not be so, only then will it disappoint.!
A matter of expectations…
A pragmatist would suggest buying clothes so cheaply at a grocery store, then man you set yourself up for failure.
They might suggest to fish where the fishes are, but what about my fleece vest which I bought .
From lidl
— ”Why then”, would be my retort, ”does It fit me like a hug?”
Picture this:
A handsome man chiselled by these small miniature disappointments and failures , even without these shoes
I will go dancing.
That is a fine sight indeed. Fuelled by the moon. Fuelled by this chocolate with nut and raisins.
Dancing not only to the music,
But to the beat of my own drum.
🪘
from Faith & Doubt
For many, this claim feels uncomfortably exclusive in our diverse world. What about the billions of sincere, devout people in other religions? What about those who've never heard of Jesus?
These aren't abstract theological puzzles. They're deeply personal questions that touch our understanding of justice, love, and what God is really like.
The Christian claim isn't primarily about religion, ritual, or moral achievement. It's about relationship and reconciliation. The core assertion is that humanity's fundamental problem is separation from God due to sin, and that Jesus uniquely bridges that gap through his death and resurrection.
This comes directly from Jesus himself. He said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). The apostle Peter later declared, “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among people by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).
But notice what's being claimed: it's about Jesus as the means of salvation, not necessarily about conscious knowledge or religious affiliation. This distinction matters enormously.
Throughout history, Christians have wrestled honestly with this question and developed different frameworks:
Exclusivism holds that conscious faith in Jesus during one's lifetime is necessary for salvation. This view takes the biblical texts most directly and emphasizes personal decision and evangelism's urgency.
Inclusivism argues that Jesus is the only way to God, but that people can benefit from Christ's work without explicit knowledge of him. They might respond to God's revelation in nature, conscience, or their own religious tradition. God judges based on the light people have received.
Pluralism suggests that different religions are various paths up the same mountain. However, this view is difficult to reconcile with Christianity's core claims about Jesus's unique identity and work, as it essentially reinterprets rather than affirms traditional Christian teaching.
Critics sometimes portray the Christian claim as cosmic gatekeeping or divine favoritism. But Christians would argue it reflects something deeper about the nature of reality:
The problem is universal. All humans, regardless of religion or culture, struggle with guilt, brokenness, and mortality. We sense we're not what we should be. Christianity claims this isn't just psychological or social, it's spiritual alienation from our Creator.
The solution must be divine. If the problem is separation from an infinite, holy God, no finite human effort can bridge that gap. It would be like trying to pay off the national debt with pocket change. An adequate solution must come from God's side, not ours.
Jesus is God's initiative, not our achievement. Christianity claims that in Jesus, God himself entered human history to do what we couldn't do for ourselves. The cross isn't humanity reaching up to God, it's God reaching down to humanity.
Grace, not merit. No one “earns” salvation in Christianity. It's a gift received through trust, not a prize won through religious performance. This actually levels the playing field: the most devout religious person and the struggling skeptic both approach God the same way, as recipients of undeserved grace.
This question troubles many Christians too. Several considerations offer perspective:
God is perfectly just and will judge rightly. Abraham asked, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:25). Christians trust that God's judgments will be perfectly fair, taking into account what people knew and the circumstances of their lives.
The Bible suggests God reveals himself universally through creation and conscience (Romans 1-2), though this “general revelation” doesn't provide full knowledge of the gospel. Some theologians propose that people might be saved by responding to whatever revelation they've received, with Christ's work providing the basis even if they don't know the details.
Many Christians believe children who die before reaching moral accountability are covered by God's grace, suggesting knowledge isn't always the determining factor.
Sincerity matters, but it isn't everything. Someone can be sincerely wrong. If I sincerely believe drinking bleach will cure my illness, my sincerity won't protect me from the consequences.
However, Christianity affirms several important truths about people in other faiths:
They bear God's image and have inherent worth and dignity. They often exhibit admirable virtues like compassion, devotion, and moral courage. Their spiritual hunger reflects humanity's universal search for transcendence and meaning. God values their seeking hearts.
The question isn't whether they're “good people,” it's whether anyone, regardless of religion, can solve their deepest problem on their own. Christianity says no one can, which is why the gospel is good news: God has provided what we couldn't achieve ourselves.
Christians should hold their convictions with both confidence and humility. Confidence because these claims matter infinitely. Humility because ultimate judgment belongs to God alone, and we see through a glass darkly.
We don't know all the details of how God will deal with every individual. We trust his justice and mercy. What we do know is what's been revealed: that God loves the world so deeply he sent his Son, and that everyone who comes to him will find welcome.
The exclusivity of Jesus doesn't make God small, it makes his love specific and costly. God didn't send a philosophy, a religious system, or a set of rules. He came himself.
Perhaps the question isn't really “Why Jesus alone?” but “What kind of God would go to such lengths?”
A God who would become human, live among us, experience our suffering, and die our death isn't standing aloof demanding arbitrary religious credentials. He's thrown himself into the mess of human existence to rescue us.
The Christian claim is radical not because it's exclusive, but because it's so shockingly inclusive in another sense: anyone, regardless of their past, their culture, their moral record, or their religious background can come to God through Jesus. The door is narrow, but it's wide open.
That's not the end of the conversation. These questions deserve continued wrestling, compassionate dialogue, and honest exploration. But for Christians, the exclusivity of Jesus isn't about restriction, it's about revelation: God showing us clearly, concretely, and personally the way home.
from sugarrush-77
I’m not even going to pretend like I am a good steward of any of the things that God has entrusted me with. I am so, so, so far away from God, and the depth of my sin and willful disobedience is so great that I despair daily at the person that I am. When I reflect upon my flaws and my sin, I don’t even know where to start. Without the cross, without grace, I cannot cross the chasm that separates me and my creator, and I am forever endebted to Christ. All that I feel I can do is spend time with God, and obey Him, so as to let Him do His work in my broken soul.
A little tidbit of New Testament-esque justification by faith can be found in Daniel as well, if I’m interpreting this correctly.
“My God sent his angel, and he shut the mouths of the lions. They have not hurt me, because I was found innocent in his sight. Nor have I ever done any wrong before you, Your Majesty.’” (Daniel 6:22)
“The king was overjoyed and gave orders to lift Daniel out of the den. And when Daniel was lifted from the den, no wound was found on him, because he had trusted in his God.” (Daniel 6:23)
The logic of the statements follows as so:
Finally, God is ultimately the one who enables, and God is the one who saves. Daniel’s excellence is a result of his character (also developed by God), and also a result of God-given excellence. If Daniel was simply an excellent administrator, political intrigue would have killed him at the beginning of his career. Furthermore, regardless of skill, you cannot rise to the top of any organization, much less a large empire without an abundance of luck or divine providence. The fact that he stayed on top of the ladder for many many years amidst changing regimes and government officials jockeying violently for authority is proof of God’s faithfulness towards Daniel. God is the one who saves, God is the one who shows His faithfulness.
Some prophets had wives and children. It doesn’t seem like Daniel did. As the book of Daniel progresses, his friends fall out of the picture for whatever reason, and he becomes the sole focus of the story. He probably did have a spiritual community of some sort, but it isn’t mentioned. I wonder how he did his faith life, because it almost seems like he did it alone.
End Note:
I very much dislike reading about the end times, because I sometimes fear that my name is not written in the book of life. I don’t want eternal punishment. Also, it makes me realize that I’m but a drop in the sea, and I have no power or control over these fated happenings. I barely understand what is even being described in these visions, and it still troubles me. Poor Daniel.
from Douglas Vandergraph
John 21 is not simply the last chapter of a Gospel. It is the quiet heartbeat of restoration. It is where heaven walks onto a shoreline at dawn, where the resurrected Jesus steps into the private ache of a disciple crushed by regret, and where mercy rewrites a story that shame tried to finish. It is a sunrise of the soul — slow, soft, bright, and transforming.
It isn’t loud like the crucifixion. It isn’t triumphant like the empty tomb. It is intimate. Personal. Healing.
This chapter is where Jesus restores the one who believed he ruined everything beyond repair. And if you read it slowly — if you let each moment move through you — you will feel the pull of a God who meets broken people with breakfast and purpose.
John 21 is a beginning disguised as an ending.
RETURNING TO OLD WATERS
Before the fire of restoration comes the fog of confusion.
Peter declares, “I am going fishing.”
Not for leisure. Not for distraction. But because he isn’t sure who he is anymore.
He remembers the courtyard. He remembers the denials. He remembers the rooster. He remembers the grief in his Master’s eyes.
Shame has a gravity. It pulls us backward into identities we outgrew. It whispers, “Go back to what you were before God called you.”
So Peter returns to the familiar — the sea, the boat, the nets. The old identity that once made sense. And the others follow, not because it is wise, but because wounded leaders unintentionally draw others into their backward steps.
They fish all night. They catch nothing.
Empty nets are sometimes heaven’s refusal to let you succeed at being someone you no longer are.
THE VOICE AT DAWN
As the sun lifts over the edges of the water, a figure stands on the shore.
“Children, have you any food?”
He knows they don’t.
He wants them to say it out loud.
“No.”
A simple word. A heavy truth.
Then the instruction:
“Cast the net on the right side of the boat.”
Unconventional. Unfamiliar. Unreasonable.
But familiar in another way — an echo from a morning years earlier when obedience birthed calling.
They listen. They obey. The nets come alive with abundance.
Fish thrash. Ropes strain. The boat tilts under the weight of miracle.
John realizes first: “It is the Lord.”
And Peter does something wild.
He doesn’t wait for the boat. He doesn’t think about dignity or shame or explanation.
He jumps into the sea.
Love reaches before reason understands. Passion outruns fear. Grace pulls the heart toward Jesus even when shame tries to anchor it.
Peter swims through the water toward the One he failed.
THE CHARCOAL FIRE OF MEMORY AND MERCY
Then comes the detail that cuts straight to the soul:
A charcoal fire.
A charcoal fire burned the night Peter denied Jesus. A charcoal fire burns now as Jesus restores him.
Same smell. Same texture. Same setting.
Not to shame him. To heal him.
Because God often revisits the memory of the wound so He can rewrite it with grace.
Before Jesus speaks, before He addresses anything painful, before He touches the sore places of Peter’s heart…
He feeds them.
The risen Savior cooks breakfast.
This alone is enough to break you open — the One who conquered the grave kneels beside a fire to serve the men who ran when He suffered.
Grace feeds before it fixes. Grace welcomes before it corrects. Grace nourishes before it commissions.
Jesus says, “Come and dine.”
Those three words carry restoration inside them.
THE RESTORATION OF PETER
After breakfast, Jesus turns His eyes on Peter.
He does not call him “Peter.” He calls him “Simon, son of John.”
He takes Peter back to the beginning — to the identity before calling, before failure, before the nickname “Rock.”
Jesus is not undoing Peter’s destiny. He is resetting the foundation.
Then He asks:
“Do you love Me more than these?”
More than the fish? More than this old life? More than your comfort? More than your pride? More than the other disciples?
Peter answers with humility, not bravado: “Lord, You know that I love You.”
Gone is the pride. Gone is the false confidence. Gone is the boasting.
Honesty remains.
And Jesus responds with commission, not condemnation: “Feed My lambs.”
Jesus gives leadership back to the man who denied Him. Jesus places responsibility on a man who once ran from pressure. Jesus trusts the broken because grace restores what shame tried to bury.
Then Jesus asks again. And again.
Three times. Three wounds reopened. Three wounds healed. Three denials redeemed.
The third time, Peter is grieved. Jesus has reached the deepest layer of the wound.
And Peter says something raw, something real, something absolutely holy: “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.”
It is the confession of a man who has nothing left to hide. Nothing left to prove. Nothing left to pretend.
He stands before Jesus exposed — and loved.
Then Jesus says it again: “Feed My sheep.”
He does not merely forgive Peter. He reinstates him.
Grace does not bring you back halfway. Grace restores you all the way to calling.
THE PROPHECY OF COURAGE
Jesus continues:
“When you were young, you dressed yourself and walked wherever you wished. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands…”
This is prophecy. This is honor. This is Jesus saying:
“You will not fail again.” “You will be brave.” “You will glorify God in death as you failed to do in fear.” “You will finish well.”
Then the words that started everything return:
“Follow Me.”
After failure. After shame. After regret.
The calling never changed.
THE END OF COMPARISON
As they walk, Peter turns and sees John following.
“What about him?”
Comparison always creeps in where calling grows.
And Jesus stops it cold:
“If I want him to remain until I return, what is that to you? You follow Me.”
Your calling is yours. His calling is his. My plan for you is not My plan for him.
Comparison kills destiny. Focus feeds it.
Jesus is saying: “Stay faithful to your path.” “Do not measure your calling by someone else’s story.” “Do not compare.” “Just follow Me.”
THE FINAL THUNDER OF JOHN’S GOSPEL
John closes with a sentence so massive it shakes the soul:
“If everything Jesus did were written down, the world itself could not contain the books.”
This is John’s way of saying:
“I haven’t told you everything — but I’ve told you enough.” “Enough to know Him.” “Enough to follow Him.” “Enough to believe.”
The Gospel ends on earth, but continues in the hearts of believers who rise from their own failures into grace.
WHY JOHN 21 SPEAKS TO US TODAY
Because people still run back to old identities when they feel unworthy of new ones. Because shame still tells lies that God has walked away. Because believers still think failure disqualifies them. Because disciples still whisper, “I’m going fishing,” when they cannot see how God could still use them. Because hearts still break beside charcoal fires of regret. Because souls still need the voice of Jesus saying, “Come and dine.”
John 21 is the chapter for the discouraged. The ashamed. The weary. The ones who think they ruined God’s plan. The ones who feel like they do not belong anymore.
Jesus meets them on familiar shorelines. Jesus builds fires where memories hurt. Jesus cooks breakfast for the broken. Jesus asks questions that heal. Jesus restores what people believe is destroyed. Jesus recommissions those who ran. Jesus rewrites endings.
Peter walked into that morning sure he was unworthy. He walked away destined to lead the early church.
And the same Jesus who restored him restores you.
Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube
Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee
Your friend in Christ, Douglas Vandergraph
#GospelOfJohn #John21 #Faith #Jesus #ChristianInspiration #BibleStudy #Hope #Restoration #Grace #Mercy #NewBeginnings #DouglasVandergraph
from
Roscoe's Story
In Summary: * On the upside, it's been great having these two IU games to follow! On the downside, arthritis aches, soreness, and clumsiness has been no fun today.
Prayers, etc.: * My daily prayers.
Health Metrics: * bw= 223.55 lbs. * bp= 139/86 (68)
Exercise: * kegel pelvic floor exercise, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups
Diet: * 06:40 – mini-cupcakes, 1 banana * 07:20 – cornbread and butter * 08:35 – whole kernel corn * 11:10 – 1 fresh orange * 11:30 – baked ham * 13:20 – cooked vegetables with shrimp and meat * 16:20 – pumpkin pie
Activities, Chores, etc.: * 05:00 – listen to local news talk radio * 06:30 – bank accounts activity monitored * 07:30 – read, pray, listen to news reports from various sources, and nap * 11:00 – tuned into The Home For IU Women's Basketball ahead of this afternoon's NCAA women's basketball, Gonzaga Bulldogs at IU Hoosiers * 12:45 to 14:15 – watch old TV game shows and eat lunch at home with Sylvia * 14:30 – reading, writing, praying, listening to relaxing music * 17:30 – listening to The Flagship Station for IU Sports ahead of tonight's Old Oaken Bucket Game between the IU Hoosiers Football Team and Purdue Boilermakers. I'll stay with this station for the call of the game.
Chess: * 11:30 – moved in all pending CC games
from Dallineation
I probably spent too much on music today. I tend to do that on Bandcamp, especially when labels are having sales on their entire catalogs so I can buy multiple titles and save on shipping costs. “Hey, its supporting small and independent artists and labels,” I tell myself.
I recently discovered a label called business casual. Founded in 2013, they first specialized in Vaporwave but have since expanded to include a variety of electronic genres and styles. And they love to release their albums on cassette. I'm starting to focus more on that format since deciding to ditch vinyl, so I jumped on the sale and ordered a handful of tapes and a CD.
I also bought digital versions of a couple albums from Farfalla Records, a French label specializing in 70s and 80s Library music.
These are the first albums I've bought from either label and I look forward to exploring them.
I actually had to pare down my original cart for business casual – lots of interesting albums there.
I'll be playing the physical media on my Twitch stream hopefully soon.
#100DaysToOffload (No. 115) #music #libraryMusic #vaporwave #synthwave #electronicMusic #Bandcamp #physicalMedia #cassette #compactDisc
from
Human in the Loop

The news business has survived many existential threats. Television didn't kill radio. The internet didn't kill newspapers, though it came close. But what happens when artificial intelligence doesn't just compete with journalism but consumes it whole, digests it, and spits out bite-sized summaries without sending a single reader, or penny, back to the source?
This isn't a hypothetical future. It's happening now, and the numbers are brutal.
When Google rolled out AI Overviews to all US users in May 2024, the impact was immediate and devastating. Travel blog The Planet D shut down after its traffic plummeted 90%. Learning platform Chegg reported a 49% decline in non-subscriber traffic between January 2024 and January 2025. The average click-through rate for the number one result on AI Overview keywords dropped from 7.3% in March 2024 to just 2.6% in March 2025. That's not a decline. That's a collapse.
Zero-click searches, where users get their answers without ever leaving Google, increased from 56% to 69% between May 2024 and May 2025, according to Similarweb data. CNN's website traffic dropped approximately 30% from a year earlier. Industry analysts estimate that AI Overviews could cost publishers $2 billion in annual advertising revenue.
But the traffic drain is only half the story. Behind the scenes, AI companies have been systematically scraping, copying, and ingesting journalistic content to train their models, often without permission, payment, or acknowledgement. This creates a perverse feedback loop: AI companies extract the knowledge created by journalists, repackage it through their models, capture the traffic and revenue that would have funded more journalism, and leave news organisations struggling to survive while simultaneously demanding access to more content to improve their systems.
The question isn't whether this is happening. The question is whether we're watching the construction of a new information extraction economy that fundamentally alters who controls, profits from, and ultimately produces the truth.
In November 2023, the News Media Alliance, representing nearly 2,000 outlets in the US, submitted a 77-page white paper to the United States Copyright Office. Their findings were stark: developers of generative artificial intelligence systems, including OpenAI and Google, had copied and used news, magazine, and digital media content to train their bots without authorisation. The outputs of these AI chatbots brought them into direct competition with news outlets through “narrative answers to search queries,” eliminating the need for consumers to visit news sources.
The economics are lopsided to the point of absurdity. Cloudflare found that OpenAI scraped a news site 250 times for every one referral page view it sent that site. For every reader OpenAI sends back to the original source, it has taken 250 pieces of content. It's the digital equivalent of a restaurant critic eating 250 meals and writing one review that mentions where they ate.
Research from 2024 and 2025 shows click-through rate reductions ranging from 34% to 46% when AI summaries appear on search results pages. Some publishers reported click-through rates dropping by as much as 89%. The News Media Alliance put it bluntly: “Without web traffic, news and media organisations lose subscription and advertising revenue, and cannot continue to fund the quality work that both AI companies and consumers rely on.”
This comes at a particularly brutal time for journalism. By the end of 2024, the United States had lost a third of its newspapers and almost two-thirds of its newspaper journalists since 2005. Newspaper advertising revenue collapsed from $48 billion in 2004 to $8 billion in 2020, an 82% decrease. Despite a 43% rise in traffic to the top 46 news sites over the past decade, their revenues declined 56%.
Core copyright industries contribute $2.09 trillion to US GDP, employing 11.6 million workers. The News Media Alliance has called for recognition that unauthorised use of copyrighted content to train AI constitutes infringement.
But here's where it gets complicated. Some publishers are making deals.
In December 2023, The New York Times sued OpenAI and Microsoft for copyright infringement, accusing them of using millions of articles to train their AI models without consent or compensation. As of early 2025, The Times had spent $10.8 million in its legal battle with OpenAI.
Yet in May 2025, The New York Times agreed to licence its editorial content to Amazon to train the tech giant's AI platforms, marking the first time The Times agreed to a generative AI-focused licensing arrangement. The deal is worth $20 million to $25 million annually. According to a former NYT executive, The Times was signalling to other AI companies: “We're open to being at the table, if you're willing to come to the table.”
The Times isn't alone. Many publishers have signed licensing deals with OpenAI, including Condé Nast, Time magazine, The Atlantic, Axel Springer, The Financial Times, and Vox Media. News Corp signed a licensing deal with OpenAI in May 2024 covering The Wall Street Journal, New York Post, and Barron's.
Perplexity AI, after facing plagiarism accusations from Forbes and Wired in 2024, debuted a revenue-sharing model for publishers. But News Corp still sued Perplexity, accusing the company of infringing on its copyrighted content by copying and summarising large quantities of articles without permission.
These deals create a two-tier system. Major publishers with expensive legal teams can negotiate licensing agreements. Smaller publications, local news outlets, and independent journalists get their content scraped anyway but lack the resources to fight back or demand payment. The infrastructure of truth becomes something only the wealthy can afford to defend.
For decades, the internet operated on an honour system called robots.txt. Publishers could include a simple text file on their websites telling automated crawlers which parts of the site not to scrape. It wasn't enforceable law. It was a gentleman's agreement.
Nearly 80% of top news organisations in the US were blocking OpenAI's web crawlers at the end of 2023, while 36% were blocking Google's artificial intelligence crawler. Publishers attempted to block four times more AI bots between January 2024 and January 2025 using robots.txt.
But the honour system is breaking down.
TollBit's report detected 436 million AI bot scrapes in Q1 2025, up 46% from Q4 2024. The percentage of AI bot scrapes that bypassed robots.txt surged from 3.3% in Q4 2024 to 12.9% by the end of Q1 2025. Recent updates to major AI companies' terms of service state that their AI bots can act on behalf of user requests, effectively meaning they can ignore robots.txt when being used for retrieval-augmented generation.
The Perplexity case illustrates the problem. Wired found evidence of Perplexity plagiarising Wired stories, reporting that an IP address “almost certainly linked to Perplexity” visited its parent company's websites more than 800 times in a three-month span. Ironically, Perplexity plagiarised the very article that called out the startup for scraping its web content.
Cloudflare claimed that Perplexity didn't just violate robots.txt protocols but also broke Web Application Firewall rules which specifically blocked Perplexity's official bots. When websites blocked Perplexity's official crawlers, the company allegedly used a generic browser that impersonated Google Chrome on macOS, and used multiple unofficial IP addresses to bypass robots.txt rules.
Forbes accused Perplexity of plagiarism for republishing its original reporting on former Google CEO Eric Schmidt without citing the story directly, finding a plagiarised version within Perplexity AI's Pages tool with no reference to the media outlet besides a small “F” logo at the bottom of the page.
In response, Cloudflare became the first major internet infrastructure provider to block all AI scrapers accessing content by default, backed by more than a dozen major news and media publishers including the Associated Press, The Atlantic, BuzzFeed, Condé Nast, Dotdash Meredith, Fortune, Gannett, The Independent, and Time.
The technological arms race has begun. Publishers deploy more sophisticated blocking. AI companies find new ways around the blocks. And in the middle, the fundamental question remains: should accessing journalistic content for AI training require explicit consent, or should it be freely available unless someone actively objects and has the technical capacity to enforce that objection?
The European Union has been grappling with this question directly. The EU AI Act currently operates under an “opt-out” system where rightholders may reserve their rights to prevent text and data mining for commercial purposes. Providers of general-purpose AI models need to obtain authorisation from rightholders if they want to carry out text and data mining when rights have been expressly reserved.
But there's growing momentum toward changing this system. A July 2025 European Parliament study on generative AI and copyright concluded that an opt-in model would more fairly protect authors' rights and rebalance negotiation power, ensuring active consent and potential compensation. The study found that rightholders often lack the technical means or awareness to enforce opt-outs, and the existing system is ill-suited to the realities of AI training.
The United Kingdom has taken a different approach. In December 2024, the UK Government launched a consultation proposing a new exception allowing materials to be used for commercial purposes unless the content creator has “opted-out.” Critics, including the BBC, argue this risks undermining creators' rights and control over their work.
During parliamentary debate, the House of Commons removed provisions on AI transparency which had been added by the Lords. After rewriting, the House of Lords reinstated the amendments, but the Commons again rejected them on 22 May 2025.
The opt-in versus opt-out debate isn't merely technical. It's about where we place the burden of enforcement. An opt-out system assumes AI companies can take content unless told otherwise, placing the burden on publishers to actively protect their rights. An opt-in system assumes publishers have control over their content unless they explicitly grant permission, placing the burden on AI companies to seek consent.
For large publishers with legal and technical resources, the difference may be manageable. For smaller outlets, local news organisations, freelance journalists, and news organisations in the developing world, the opt-out model creates an impossible enforcement burden. They lack the technical infrastructure to monitor scraping, the legal resources to pursue violations, and the market power to negotiate fair terms.
The debate is often framed as “innovation versus preservation.” AI companies argue that restricting access to training data will stifle innovation and harm the public interest. Publishers argue that protecting copyright is necessary to preserve the economic viability of journalism and maintain the quality information ecosystem that democracy requires.
This framing is convenient for AI companies because it makes them the champions of progress and publishers the defenders of an outdated status quo. But it obscures deeper questions about power, infrastructure, and the nature of knowledge creation.
Innovation and preservation aren't opposites. Journalism is itself an innovative enterprise. Investigative reporting that uncovers government corruption is innovation. Data journalism that reveals hidden patterns is innovation. Foreign correspondents risking their lives to document war crimes are engaged in the most vital form of truth-seeking innovation our society produces.
What we're really debating is who gets to profit from that innovation. If AI companies can extract the knowledge produced by journalists, repackage it, and capture the economic value without compensating the original creators, we haven't chosen innovation over preservation. We've chosen extraction over creation.
A 2025 study published in Digital Journalism argued that media organisations' dependence on AI companies poses challenges to media freedom, particularly through loss of control over the values embedded in AI tools they use to inform the public. Reporters Without Borders' World Press Freedom Index found that the global state of press freedom has reached an unprecedented low point. Over 60% of global media outlets expressed concern over AI scraping their content without compensation.
Consider what happens when the infrastructure of information becomes concentrated in a handful of AI companies. These companies don't just distribute news. They determine what constitutes an adequate answer to a question. They decide which sources to cite and which to ignore. They summarise complex reporting into bite-sized paragraphs, stripping away nuance, context, and the very uncertainty that characterises honest journalism.
Google's AI Overviews don't just show you what others have written. They present synthetic answers with an air of authority, as if the question has been definitively answered rather than reported on by journalists with varying levels of access, expertise, and bias. This isn't neutral infrastructure. It's editorial judgement, exercised by algorithms optimised for engagement rather than truth, and controlled by companies accountable primarily to shareholders rather than the public.
This brings us to the deepest question: who owns the infrastructure of truth itself?
For most of modern history, the answer was relatively clear. Journalists and news organisations owned the means of producing truth. They employed reporters, paid for investigations, took legal risks, and published findings. Distribution was controlled by whoever owned the printing presses, broadcast licences, or later, web servers. But production and distribution, while distinct, remained largely aligned.
AI fundamentally separates production from distribution, and arguably introduces a third layer: synthesis. Journalists produce the original reporting. AI companies synthesise that reporting into new forms. And increasingly, AI companies also control distribution through search, chatbots, and AI-powered interfaces.
This isn't just vertical integration. It's a wholesale reorganisation of the information supply chain that places AI companies at the centre, with journalists reduced to raw material suppliers in an extraction economy they neither control nor profit from adequately.
The parallel to natural resource extraction is uncomfortably apt. For centuries, colonial powers extracted raw materials from colonised territories, processed them in industrial centres, and sold finished goods back to those same territories at marked-up prices. The value accrued not to those who produced the raw materials but to those who controlled the processing and distribution infrastructure.
Replace “raw materials” with “original reporting” and “industrial centres” with “AI model training” and the analogy holds. News organisations produce expensive, labour-intensive journalism. AI companies scrape that journalism, process it through their models, and sell access to the synthesised knowledge. The value accrues not to those who produced the original reporting but to those who control the AI infrastructure.
Local news organisations in the US bore the brunt of economic disruption and increasingly tied themselves to platform companies like Facebook and Google. Those very companies are now major players in AI development, exacerbating the challenges and deepening the dependencies. Google's adoption of AI-based summarisation in its search engine results is likely to further upend the economic foundation for journalism.
The collapse of the mainstream news media's financial model may represent a threat to democracy, creating vast news deserts and the opportunity for ill-intentioned players to fill the void with misinformation. One study published by NewsGuard in May 2024 tallied nearly 1,300 AI-generated news sites across 16 languages, many churning out viral misinformation.
What emerges from this landscape is a paradox. At the very moment when AI makes it easier than ever to access and synthesise information, the economic model that produces trustworthy information is collapsing. AI companies need journalism to train their models and provide current information. But their extraction of that journalism undermines the business model that produces it. The snake is eating its own tail.
Democracy requires more than free speech. It requires the structural conditions that make truth-seeking possible. You need journalists who can afford to spend months on an investigation. You need news organisations that can fund foreign bureaus, hire fact-checkers, and employ editors with institutional knowledge. You need legal protections for whistleblowers and reporters. You need economic models that reward accuracy over clickbait.
These structural conditions have been eroding for decades. Newspaper revenues declined by nearly 28% between 2002 and 2010, and by another nearly 34% between 2010 and 2020, according to US Census Bureau data. Newspaper publishers collected about $22.1 billion in revenue in 2020, less than half the amount they collected in 2002.
AI doesn't create these problems. But it accelerates them by removing the final economic pillar many publishers were relying on: web traffic. If AI Overviews, chatbots, and synthetic search results can answer users' questions without sending them to the original sources, what incentive remains for anyone to fund expensive original reporting?
Some argue that AI could help journalism by making reporting more efficient and reducing costs. But efficiency gains don't solve the core problem. If all journalism becomes more efficient but generates less revenue, we still end up with less journalism. The question isn't whether AI can help journalists work faster. It's whether the AI economy creates sustainable funding models for the journalism we need.
The European Parliament's study advocating for opt-in consent isn't just about copyright. It's about maintaining the structural conditions necessary for independent journalism to exist. If publishers can't control how their content is used or negotiate fair compensation, the economic foundation for journalism collapses further. And once that foundation is gone, no amount of AI efficiency gains will rebuild it.
This is why framing the debate as innovation versus preservation misses the point. The real choice is between an AI economy that sustains journalism as a vital democratic institution and one that extracts value from journalism while undermining its viability.
The EU AI Act's requirement that providers publicly disclose detailed summaries of content used for AI model training sounds promising. Transparency is good, right? But disclosure without accountability is just performance.
Knowing that OpenAI trained GPT-4 on millions of news articles doesn't help publishers if they can't refuse consent or demand compensation. Knowing which crawlers visited your website doesn't prevent them from coming back. Transparency creates the illusion of control without providing actual leverage.
What would accountability look like? It would require enforcement mechanisms with real consequences. It would mean AI companies face meaningful penalties for scraping content without permission. It would give publishers legal standing to sue for damages. It would create regulatory frameworks that put the burden of compliance on AI companies rather than on publishers to police thousands of bots.
The UK parliamentary debate over AI transparency provisions illustrates the challenge. The House of Lords added amendments requiring AI companies to disclose their web crawlers and data sources. The House of Commons rejected these amendments twice. Why? Because transparency creates costs and constraints for AI companies that the government was unwilling to impose in the name of fostering innovation.
But transparency without teeth doesn't protect publishers. It just creates a paper trail of their exploitation.
We're at a genuine crossroads. The choices made in the next few years will determine whether journalism survives as an independent, adequately funded profession or becomes an unpaid raw material supplier for AI companies.
One possible future: comprehensive licensing frameworks where AI companies pay for the journalism they use, similar to how music streaming services pay royalties. The deals between major publishers and OpenAI, Google, and Amazon could expand to cover the entire industry, with collective licensing organisations negotiating on behalf of smaller publishers.
But this future requires addressing the power imbalance. Small publishers need collective bargaining power. Licensing fees need to be substantial enough to replace lost traffic revenue. And enforcement needs to be strong enough to prevent AI companies from simply scraping content from publishers too small to fight back.
Another possible future: regulatory frameworks that mandate opt-in consent for commercial AI training, as the European Parliament study recommends. AI companies would need explicit permission to use copyrighted content, shifting the burden from publishers protecting their rights to AI companies seeking permission. This creates stronger protections for journalism but could slow AI development and raise costs.
A third possible future: the current extraction economy continues until journalism collapses under the economic pressure. AI companies keep scraping, traffic keeps declining, revenues keep falling, and newsrooms keep shrinking. We're left with a handful of elite publications serving wealthy subscribers, AI-generated content farms producing misinformation, and vast news deserts where local journalism once existed.
The question is which future we choose, and who gets to make that choice. Right now, AI companies are making it by default through their technical and economic power. Regulators are making it through action or inaction. Publishers are making it through licensing deals that may or may not preserve their long-term viability.
What's largely missing is democratic deliberation about what kind of information ecosystem we want and need. Do we want a world where truth-seeking is concentrated in the hands of those who control the algorithms? Do we want journalism to survive as an independent profession, or are we comfortable with it becoming a semi-volunteer activity sustained by wealthy benefactors?
Markets optimise for efficiency and profit, not for the structural conditions democracy requires. If we leave these decisions entirely to AI companies and publishers negotiating bilateral deals, we'll get an outcome that serves their interests, not necessarily the public's.
When The New York Times sued OpenAI in December 2023, it wasn't just protecting its copyright. It was asserting that journalism has value beyond its immediate market price. That the work of investigating, verifying, contextualising, and publishing information deserves recognition and compensation. That truth-seeking isn't free.
The outcome of that lawsuit, and the hundreds of similar conflicts playing out globally, will help determine who controls truth in the algorithm age. Will it be the journalists who investigate, the publishers who fund that investigation, or the AI companies who synthesise and redistribute their findings?
Control over truth has always been contested. Governments censor. Corporations spin. Platforms algorithmically promote and demote. What's different now is that AI doesn't just distribute truth or suppress it. It synthesises new forms of information that blend facts from multiple sources, stripped of context, attribution, and sometimes accuracy.
When you ask ChatGPT or Google's AI Overview a question about climate change, foreign policy, or public health, you're not getting journalism. You're getting a statistical model's best guess at what a plausible answer looks like, based on patterns it found in journalistic content. Sometimes that answer is accurate. Sometimes it's subtly wrong. Sometimes it's dangerously misleading. But it's always presented with an air of authority that obscures its synthetic nature.
This matters because trust in information depends partly on understanding its source. When I read a Reuters article, I'm evaluating it based on Reuters' reputation, the reporter's expertise, the sources cited, and the editorial standards I know Reuters maintains. When I get an AI-generated summary, I'm trusting an algorithmic process I don't understand, controlled by a company whose primary obligation is to shareholders, trained on data that may or may not include that Reuters article, and optimised for plausibility rather than truth.
The infrastructure of truth is being rebuilt around us, and most people don't realise it's happening. We've replaced human editorial judgement with algorithmic synthesis. We've traded the messy, imperfect, but ultimately accountable process of journalism for the smooth, confident, but fundamentally opaque process of AI generation.
And we're doing this at precisely the moment when we need trustworthy journalism most. Climate change, pandemic response, democratic backsliding, technological disruption, economic inequality: these challenges require the kind of sustained, expert, well-resourced investigative reporting that's becoming economically unviable.
The cruel irony is that AI companies are undermining the very information ecosystem they depend on. They need high-quality journalism to train their models and keep their outputs accurate and current. But by extracting that journalism without adequately compensating its producers, they're destroying the economic model that creates it.
What replaces professional journalism in this scenario? AI-generated content farms, partisan outlets masquerading as news, press releases repackaged as reporting, and the occasional well-funded investigative outfit serving elite audiences. That's not an information ecosystem that serves democracy. It's an information wasteland punctuated by oases available only to those who can afford them.
The first step is recognising that this isn't inevitable. The current trajectory, where AI companies extract journalistic content without adequate compensation, is the result of choices, not technological necessity. Different choices would produce different outcomes.
Regulatory frameworks matter. The European Union's move toward stronger opt-in requirements represents one path. The UK's consultation on copyright and AI represents another. These aren't just technical policy debates. They're decisions about whether journalism survives as an economically viable profession.
Collective action matters. Individual publishers negotiating with OpenAI or Google have limited leverage. Collective licensing frameworks, where organisations negotiate on behalf of many publishers, could rebalance power. Cloudflare's decision to block AI scrapers by default, backed by major publishers, shows what coordinated action can achieve.
Legal precedent matters. The New York Times lawsuit against OpenAI will help determine whether using copyrighted content to train AI models constitutes fair use or infringement. That decision will ripple through the industry, either empowering publishers to demand licensing fees or giving AI companies legal cover to scrape freely.
Public awareness matters. Most people don't know this battle is happening. They use AI chatbots and search features without realising the economic pressure these tools place on journalism. Democratic deliberation requires an informed public.
What we're fighting over isn't really innovation versus preservation. It's not technology versus tradition. It's a more fundamental question: does knowledge creation deserve to be compensated? If journalists spend months investigating corruption, if news organisations invest in foreign bureaus and fact-checking teams, if local reporters cover city council meetings nobody else attends, should they be paid for that work?
The market, left to itself, seems to be answering no. AI companies can extract that knowledge, repackage it, and capture its economic value without paying the creators. Publishers can't stop them through technical means alone. Legal protections are unclear and under-enforced.
That's why this requires democratic intervention. Not to stop AI development, but to ensure it doesn't cannibalise the information ecosystem democracy requires. To create frameworks where both journalism and AI can thrive, where innovation doesn't come at the cost of truth-seeking, where the infrastructure of knowledge serves the public rather than concentrating power in a few algorithmic platforms.
The algorithm age has arrived. The question is whether it will be an age where truth becomes the property of whoever controls the most sophisticated models, or whether we'll find ways to preserve, fund, and protect the messy, expensive, irreplaceable work of journalism.
We're deciding now. The decisions we make in courtrooms, parliaments, regulatory agencies, and licensing negotiations over the next few years will determine whether our children grow up in a world with independent journalism or one where all information flows through algorithmic intermediaries accountable primarily to their shareholders.
That's not a future that arrives by accident. It's a future we choose, through action or inaction. And the choice, ultimately, is ours.

Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer
Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.
His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.
ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk
This Sunday marks the first Sunday of Advent, so here is a Christmas album recommendation for y¦all. I won¦t claim that this is the best Christmas jazz compilation, or even a particularly good one, but it is the one we had growing up. I would be willing to bet that this album got more play than any other in our household—the only reasonable competition would be A Winters Solstice by Windham Hill Records.
Despite being a budget compilation of random jazzy tracks in Sony¦s vault, including two different renditions of “Have Yourself A Merry Christmas” (one with vocals and one without), it is hard to go wrong with Duke Ellington, Dave Brubeck, and the like. When I am inevitably humming holiday tunes during the winter months, it¦s probably one of these arrangements I am singing.
Favourite track: “Our Little Town” by the Heath Brothers. This might be the least overtly festive track on the album, but its vibes are choice for a cold day snuggled in blankets with hot cocoa.
#AlbumOfTheWeek
from
Larry's 100
See 100 Word reviews of previous episodes here
Being yourself is lonely. After Carol's interrogation of Zosia backfired, making the whole world hive-mind cry, the Others are giving her the silent treatment. They convoy out of Albuquerque and rely solely on recorded updates and drone interactions. Her only social outlet is video messages to the other twelve soloists.
Sparked by moments of action and levity with her co-opted police car, Carol's solitude, with help from a pack of canines, lets her grieve Helen.
Carol becomes Agatha Christie as a series of clues eventually leads to an abandoned dog food factory and a classic episodic TV cliffhanger.
Watch it.

#Pluribus #TVReview #VinceGilligan #ScienceFiction #Larrys100 #Drabble #100WordReview #100DaysToOffload