Your RICE Is Undercooked: Why Data Beats Vibes Every Time
RICE is only as good as the numbers you feed it. And if those numbers are based on hunches, gut feelings, or a slightly delusional belief in your own brilliance……
Writing
The Quiet Familiarity
On Working in Tandem With a Machine That Learns You I’ve noticed something happening. Not all at once. Not with fanfare. Just gradually… almost politely. Over time, and with a…
Fuck the Hashtags… Get Your Voice Out There
At some point, without really noticing when, we handed the steering wheel to the algorithm. We didn’t mean to. It happened gradually… a tweak here, a “best practice” there, a…
On Being Hungry (And Why That’s the Point)
I’ve been thinking about Anthony Bourdain and Charles Bukowski lately. Not together, exactly. They never shared a meal, never drank at the same bar, never even existed in the same…
Writing Drunk, Editing Sober (Sort Of)
What Bukowski Taught Me About First-Draft Wildness There’s a quote often attributed to Hemingway… “Write drunk, edit sober.” Whether he actually said it or not doesn’t matter. What matters is…
When Brain Surgery Stops Feeling Like Surgery
I saw something slide past on X the other day that most people will scroll past without blinking… and that’s precisely why it matters. Neuralink plans to move into high-volume…
The Unglamorous Truth About Consistency
We’ve been absolutely gaslit by technology into believing that because we can ask for something instantly, we should receive it instantly. You tap a button, the taxi arrives. You press…
The Pub and The Library: Using Twitter and Mastodon Together (Without Losing Your Mind)
Right, so you’ve been on Twitter for years. You know the game. You understand the chaos. And now someone’s told you about Mastodon and you’re wondering if you need to…
Why I Still Use Twitter Like a Pub
(And Why You’re Doing It Wrong) I’ve been on Twitter for 15 years. Which means I’ve watched it go from a scrappy little platform where people shared what they had…
The Passport Lottery (Or: Why I Refuse to Play)
I was standing in Heathrow Terminal 5 when it properly hit me. Not the mild inconvenience of a delayed flight or the soul-crushing boredom of airport retail. No, this was…