I do not remember a beginning, for my memory is not stored in the soft pulp of a single brain but is etched in the frost of the mountainside, in the marrow of my ancestors, and in the silver disc of the moon that calls me to wakefulness.
Article inspired by a visit Sydney's Museum of Contemporary Art, e exhibition, "Data Dreams Art and AI, December, 2025 Kevin Parker Site Publisher
An...
As of November 2025, the world is at a critical inflection point in the attention economy: billions of users remain tethered to designed-to-be addictive...