Category Archives: Essays

Yes, I’m Still Writing an Ode

I never cared much for odes before. Maybe that’s only because all the odes I’d been exposed to were Keats’, and Keats’ odes seem a little…understated. Even melancholy, at times.

Now that I’ve learned more about the form (and now that I’m trying to write one of my own), that seems ridiculous. As I understand it, the whole point of an ode is to be over-the-top in your praise, to exult your subject, to be effusive, to be–well, a bit wild.

Maybe I’m not sophisticated enough to tell (or maybe I’ve just been reading all the wrong ones), but I’ve never seen a poem by Keats I would describe as “wild.”

I, on the other hand, am having so much fun being over-the-top.

I’d never realized before how much work I’m constantly putting into holding back when communicating strong feelings. Even in My Top Ten Rains, a poem specifically about feelings, I worked very hard to be understated: to show more than tell, to rely on the reader’s imagination to reconstruct my emotions from the blueprints I’d left on the page, rather than handing them over fully-formed.

And I think, for that piece, it was the right decision! I wanted the mood to be dreamlike, stream-of-consciousness; I wanted the reader to be able to imagine themselves in my place; I wanted them to actually feel some of those emotions rather than just reading about them. Even though the poem is about my own experiences, I didn’t want my ego (in either sense of the word) to be the main focus.

But ego is intrinsic to an ode! It’s not your opinion I’m trying to convey, it’s mine–with all the subjectivity, quirks, and uniquenesses that come with it…and it turns out part of that uniqueness is an intensity I hadn’t even realized I’d been concealing.

As a grown-up (and especially as a man), you’re not supposed to have strong feelings, let alone show them. But strong emotions aren’t wrong–in either the moral or epistemic sense.

Becoming more rational—arriving at better estimates of how-the-world-is—can diminish feelings or intensify them. Sometimes we run away from strong feelings by denying the facts, by flinching away from the view of the world that gave rise to the powerful emotion. If so, then as you study the skills of rationality and train yourself not to deny facts, your feelings will become stronger.

-Eliezer Yudkowsky, Feeling Rational

Of course, it’s still important not to overwhelm the people around you, especially when those strong feelings are about them. Luckily, this particular ode isn’t about a person, so I haven’t been holding back at all. It’s exhilarating!

…I should add that none of this means the poem will be any good. Don’t get your hopes up. But even if this ends up being the worst ode I ever write, I don’t think it will be the last.

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My New Year’s Resolution: Post More Garbage

You might be tired of hearing it by now. If so, I apologize. It’s just something I have a really hard time remembering.

I’ve been sticking to my daily schedule so far–and I’m really proud of myself for that!–but there’s a whole lot of half-finished posts piling up in my “drafts” queue and that feels like a bad sign. Microblogging has been great, and I’m going to continue doing it, but I think I need a bit of a nudge to actually finish more of the harder, long-form pieces. So here’s my resolution: at least one long-form post per week.

I expect I’ll put most of them up on Saturday, but that won’t be a hard-and-fast rule. I’d like to give myself a bit of extra time to start with, so I’m not going to. (Ha! Take that, me!) Expect a new long-form post by the end of this week.

(“Long-form” might be a bit misleading. The idea is simply to finish more of what I start; if I decide an idea doesn’t need more than a few paragraphs to be complete, that’s a win!)

Happy new year!

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GenAI Is Worse Than Soulless

Writing and art created by LLMs has taken us to a stretch of the uncanny valley so deep I’m starting to worry about ender dragons. It’s not just soulless, it’s worse than soulless, because it’s made to imitate having a soul but doesn’t quite make it.

Modern AIs have artificial souls. Substitute souls. They’re the astroturf of art; the hydrogenated oil of human thought and creativity.

No wonder they’re literally driving people insane.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: put a stop to it!

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Happy Smallpox Eradication Day!

Content note: gore (image of child with smallpox)

Forty-six years ago today, smallpox was declared officially eradicated worldwide. Although several other diseases such as Guinea worm are getting close, smallpox remains one of only two diseases we’ve eradicated, and the only one affecting humans. Fatality rates are estimated to have been around 30% throughout most of our history; in the last 100 years of its existence alone it killed roughly half a billion people, and the survivors often suffered from permanent scarring, disfigurement, and blindness.

Ironically, it’s much more difficult to make an infectious disease seem like an inhuman monster than it is to demonize an actual human being. Our social brains are wired to associate words like “evil” with creepy grins and mustache-twirling, not complex bundles of chemicals that barely even count as “alive.” But make no mistake: the true face of Evil doesn’t have a mustache to twirl, and it doesn’t have pointy fangs or glowing red eyes, either. It looks like this:

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I’ve Lost Hope. Has Anybody Seen It?

Last night I was rereading an old essay of mine about capitalism (or rather, what I considered to be capitalism at the time). I may or may not write a post later about my thoughts.

(I’d like to do a “review” of one of my older posts at some point–just to see what I’ve learned, which of my beliefs and opinions have changed, how I’ve grown, and so on–but I don’t know if it will be that post.)

I concluded the post with this:

Unfortunately, there’s nothing to prevent someone from […] trading freely to encourage innovation and growth when it suits them, and stealing the best of the profits when it doesn’t. Honest capitalism is the fairest and most effective kind, but that doesn’t mean that only honest people can be capitalists.

If this were the whole story, the future might look pretty bleak: without an advantage that only the honest could use, the thieves would continue to take what they pleased without regard for others’ welfare, and with the science and resources of capitalist practice lifting the restrictions of old, the world would eventually either be destroyed or subjugated utterly. However, there is some hope on at least two different fronts. I’ll elaborate on these next time in part two.

Well, here we are in the future, and gosh, it seems pretty darned bleak! And it does seem like the people (and systems) controlling the economy are going to either destroy the world or enslave its population. I never did write part two, but I’d really like to now–the current timeline makes me want to share those hopes more than ever.

…If only I could remember what those hopes were??

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Is All “Déjà Vu” Déjà Vu Déjà Vu?

If you don’t know, déjà vu is the feeling of “remembering” an event that just happened for the first time, sort of like it’s a scene from a movie you’ve seen before. (If you already knew that, enjoy the irony of hearing it explained again!)

I’ve heard about many people experiencing déjà vu at some point in their lives, and I’ve experienced it multiple times myself, but there’s a detail I haven’t heard others talk about. For those of you who’ve had it, I’m curious: is your feeling of déjà vu itself in the imagined memory? That is, when feeling “I remember this happening before,” do you also think “and I remember remembering that this has happened before?” Is your déjà vu a recursive feeling of “this has happened many times before,” or does the feeling stop at “this has happened once before?”

Because for me, it is absolutely recursive. Every time.

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Banana Transmutation, Brownie Batter, and the Second Law of Thermodynamics

Content note: profanity, physics

This is my second attempt to gesture flailingly at an epiphany I had a little while ago. It won’t be the last, I think.

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Gratitude

Keeping a daily gratitude journal is one of the cheapest, easiest, and most well-documented ways of improving your overall happiness and mental well-being. (Like most people who know this fact, I don’t keep a daily gratitude journal.)

I don’t keep a daily gratitude journal, but when I was young my family did keep a yearly gratitude journal: every Thanksgiving, we’d take some time together to volunteer things we were grateful for and write them down. Sometimes they were things specific to the past year, sometimes they were more perennial. Sometimes they were serious, conventional things–friends, family, health, and so on–other times they were small, lighthearted, or even silly. (I recall one year saying I was thankful for “God making the Big Bang that created the universe that created the Milky Way that created Earth that created humans so they could invent the Super Nintendo so I could play videogames.” I think I was about nine?) As holiday traditions go it was pretty subdued, but it was still one of my favorites. Even just reading through what we’d written in past years never failed to put a smile on my face.

I don’t keep a daily gratitude journal, but I do have a blog! So this year, I’ve decided to revise an old tradition and share with you some of the things I’m thankful for–large and small, silly and serious. In no particular order:

  • The little foldable keyboard I’m using right now to type this post on my phone.
  • My close family–those I’ve chosen through friendship and marriage, as well as those I’ve been gifted by chance.
  • In particular, my father. I’m writing a song for you, dad. I can’t wait for it to be finished so you can hear it.
  • Having a stable job I don’t hate with a good boss who doesn’t hate me.
  • The three best gifts I’ve ever bought for myself: my ErgoDox EZ bespoke mechanical keyboard, my Kensington Expert trackball mouse, and my turquoise Nintendo Switch Lite. (Yes, I’m still in love with videogames.)
  • Bandcamp!
  • Fulfilling my childhood dream of living in a mobile house (although my house doesn’t have an elevator or big-screen TV like I wanted–oh well).
  • Finally diagnosing and treating my ADD.
  • Getting my heart broken and having no regrets.
  • Being converted to toe socks and minimalist shoes (regular sneakers look way more absurd to me than shoes with toes, now).
  • My spouse’s sorcerous powers of cookery.
  • My favorite (nonfiction) writers: Autumn Christian, Eliezer Yudkowsky, Paul Graham, Tevis Thompson, and Scott Alexander.
  • Good porn.1
  • Costco!
  • My new favorite (nonfiction) writer, Chris Ferdinandi.
  • Discovering that Stephanie Myer wrote and published a gender-swapped version of Twilight to prove a point, reading it, and finding it works at least as well as the original. #TeamEdythe
  • Restarting my blog!
  • Making an effort to get back in touch with some friends I’ve been missing.
  • Seeing my writing improve enough to produce something I’m truly proud of (and which didn’t take me years or decades to finish).

And of course, I’m thankful for you, my wonderful readers. It’s hard to overstate how rewarding it’s been having an audience, even a small one. Knowing that someone other than my mom is actually reading and enjoying my writing (love you, mom) has been not only motivational, but also wonderful soul food. As always, I love you, and I hope your week finishes with a special treat and some unexpected good news. Joy and Health to you all!


  1. You may well ask, “What makes porn good?” or even “How can porn ever be good?” And I may well answer, “I think I have an idea for a future post…” ↩︎

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Acronyms, Novel Gags: Surprisingly Tough

Tomorrow I’ll be posting…I guess you could call it the finale of my “Angst Saga.” (I don’t think I’ll be calling it that, but you certainly could.)

A poem about heartbreak might seem like an odd choice for Thanksgiving, but I truly am grateful for the experience. I’m not one of those people who thinks pain is intrinsically valuable–it’s not–but there are some valuable experiences that wouldn’t be the same without it. For example: moments when you’ve taken a big risk that didn’t pay off, but you know it would have been a mistake not to try.

I’ll say it as many times as it takes.

There are important lessons you can only learn from experiences that test you–times when you failed, when you grieved, when you lost, when you made an ass of yourself. If you never risk losing, you’ll never be great; if you never risk grieving, you’ll never fully love; if you never risk looking foolish, you’ll never be wise. I’m thankful I finally took an opportunity to be foolish and heartbroken for the right reasons. It’s a scar I’ll cherish.

On Friday I think I’ll say more about the other things I’m grateful for. Until then, I hope those who celebrate have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I hope those who don’t have an equally wonderful Thursday. I love you very much.

Joy and health to you all.

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Poor, Poor Thing

When I first saw this scene from Harvey (in my case it was a high-school play, not the film), I thought this was the most boring, self-centered, asinine, unimaginative wish anyone could possibly wish for. (It fits the character perfectly.)

ELWOOD. Harvey says that he can look at your clock and stop it and you can go away as long as you like with whomever you like and go as far as you like. And when you come back not one minute will have ticked by.

CHUMLEY. You mean that he actually–? (Looks toward office.)

ELWOOD. Einstein has overcome time and space. Harvey has overcome not only time and space–but any objections.

CHUMLEY. And does he do this for you?

ELWOOD. He is willing to at any time, but so far I’ve never been able to think of any place I’d rather be. I always have a wonderful time just where I am, whomever I’m with. I’m having a fine time right now with you, Doctor.

CHUMLEY. I know where I’d go.

ELWOOD. Where?

CHUMLEY. I’d go to Akron.

ELWOOD. Akron?

CHUMLEY. There’s a cottage camp outside Akron in a grove of maple trees, cool, green, beautiful.

ELWOOD. My favorite tree.

CHUMLEY. I would go there with a pretty young woman, a strange woman, a quiet woman.

ELWOOD. Under a tree?

CHUMLEY. I wouldn’t even want to know her name. I would be–just Mr. Brown.

ELWOOD. Why wouldn’t you want to know her name? You might be acquainted with the same people.

CHUMLEY. I would send out for cold beer. I would talk to her. I would tell her things I have never told anyone–things that are locked in here. (Beats his breast. ELWOOD looks over at his chest with interest.) And then I would send out for more cold beer.

ELWOOD. No whiskey?

CHUMLEY. Beer is better.

ELWOOD. Maybe under a tree. But she might like a highball.

CHUMLEY. I wouldn’t let her talk to me, but as I talked I would want her to reach out a soft white hand and stroke my head and say, “Poor thing! Oh, you poor, poor thing!”

ELWOOD. How long would you like that to go on?

CHUMLEY. Two weeks.

ELWOOD. Wouldn’t that get monotonous? Just Akron, beer, and “poor, poor thing” for two weeks?

CHUMLEY. No. No, it would not. It would be wonderful.

ELWOOD. I can’t help but feel you’re making a mistake in not allowing that woman to talk. If she gets around at all, she may have picked up some very interesting little news items. And I’m sure you’re making a mistake with all that beer and no whiskey. But it’s your two weeks.

Now that I’m older and tireder…well, I still think it’s the most boring, self-centered, asinine, unimaginative wish anyone could possibly wish for. But I’ve gained just a little bit of sympathy for the pompous old jerk. Elwood’s right, of course: two weeks would be way too long, and it would definitely be a mistake not to let the woman talk. But the rest of it? Honestly, that does sound rather nice.

Anybody else think so? We could find a nice grove of maple trees together and take turns!

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