Auxiliary Memory

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Are My Thoughts Like Your Thoughts?

by James Wallace Harris, 6/15/26

In Chapter 3, “Thought” from A World Appears, Michael Pollan works with psychologist Russell T. Hurlburt, who has been collecting thought diaries from his subjects for over fifty years. The technique Hurlburt uses is called Descriptive Experience Sampling (DES). Subjects wear a device that randomly beeps in their ears. When they hear the beep, they write down what was going on in their head just before the beep. Hurlburt says:

I have sampled with some people whose inner experience is characterized almost exclusively by inner speech; with others whose inner experience is characterized almost exclusively by images, or by sensory awareness, or by unsymbolized thinking, or by feelings; with others whose inner experience is characterized by a combination of all those; with some whose inner experience is characterized by many simultaneous events; with others whose inner experience is characterized almost exclusively by one event at a time; and so on. So, yes, I think people are importantly different when it comes to inner experience.

So when you ask a person, “What are you thinking?” the answer might not be anything like how you think. For the most part, people assume everyone thinks like they do, but Hurlburt’s research shows that isn’t true.

I’ve kept a running chatter in my head my whole life, except for when I’m unconscious. However, as soon as I wake up, the voice returns. It’s weird to think that some people don’t have this inner voice. That makes me think of the science fiction novel Blindsight by Peter Watts. Watts imagines an intelligent alien race that lacks conscious self-awareness.

My inner voice is almost always analytical, always commenting on what I’m experiencing. If I have a pain in my abdomen, the voice is proposing theories as to what is causing the pain. But it’s not always like this.

When I was younger, I had constant fantasies about everything. I was a little Walter Mitty. I’ve always had imaginary conversations in my head, usually about what I was going to talk about with people in the future. Of course, I had lots of sexual fantasies, but I had many more kinds of fantasies. If I saw a movie and didn’t like the plot, I’d reimagine it with a new plot. If I didn’t like the actors, I’d recast the film in my head. I’ve mentally written hundreds of science fiction stories. For every blog post I write, I’ve already written it several times in my thoughts.

I found it fascinating that Hurlburt said some people don’t do this either.

But then, when I discovered I had aphantasia, my mind boggled trying to imagine how other people see inside their minds. I do sometimes have flashes of visual imagery. My dreams are very vivid. And sometimes if I’m tired in just the right way, I have waking dreams. When I was young and smoked dope, the visual floodgates would open.

I do “visualize” things in my head, but without pictures. I have good spatial awareness and can intuit how machines work. I have another sense for how things look. It’s very hard to describe. I wonder if it’s like how blind people develop spatial awareness?

Hurlburt’s research also showed that people see and think less in their heads as they age. That makes me wonder if I had better mental imagery when I was younger. I do feel my inner chatter is slowing.

One reason I believe that is because when I first tried to meditate in the 1970s, I had a hell of a time quieting that inner voice. Now I can relax, and it will shut up for about as long as I can hold my breath. And it feels like that. The longer I shut up mentally, the pressure builds, sort of like needing to take a breath when you’re holding it. Thoughts eventually explode out.

I’ve often wondered why most people aren’t addicted to music like I am. When I play music, it stimulates my brain in many ways. My “thinking” goes into overdrive, and my mind is flooded with ideas. Also, music creates all kinds of emotions or enhances existing emotions. Music makes me mentally high, but it’s unlike the old marijuana high that made my body high, too. I need to hear one to two hours of music a day, so it does feel like an addiction.

I’m not sure what Hurlburt means by “symbolized” and “unsymbolized thinking.” I might do that, or I might not. Nor do I know what he means by only being able to think of one event at a time. I know I’m experiencing many sensory events at once, but I think I only focus on one at a time. Are some people multichanneled? Is that like having multiple picture-in-picture on your inner TV screen?

I have to assume I’m a bookworm because of the way I think. Reading fiction is like having your own artificial reality goggles. However, I don’t visualize scenes like other readers do.

I assume I write blogs because it feels like I’m organizing my thoughts. I assume that I would think like a writer, say, like Michael Pollan. But the more I read about Hurlburt, the more I wonder.

The fact that there is so much variation from person to person in our modes of thinking is itself an important finding of Descriptive Experience Sampling. Most of us assume that our inner lives must be substantially similar—not necessarily in content but in the form our thoughts take. Hurlburt has suggested that we fail to recognize the diversity of thinking styles because we lump them all together under that single word—thinking—and assume we mean the same thing by it, though in actuality we don’t.

“When a visualizer says they are thinking about something,” Hurlburt said, “they mean they are seeing a visual image of something, and if they are predominantly inner speakers, they mean ‘I was talking to myself.’ And the reason for this, I speculate, is that when you were two and learned that when your mother, or whoever it was, says, ‘I was thinking,’ that meant something that was happening inside Mom that you couldn’t see. So when I want to tell you whatever is going on inside me, that’s ‘I’m thinking.’ But ‘thinking’ means something different from person to person.” If Hurlburt is right, the word thinking has allowed us to overlook these differences and make the unwarranted assumption that other people are having inner experiences more or less like our own.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (pp. 146-147). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Pollan was surprised when Hurlburt expressed what his DES diaries suggested:

Hurlburt proceeded to tell me that he didn’t think I had much inner experience at all. I was on the far end of a spectrum that ran from a rich inner life of words, images, and sensations to one…well, one lacking all that. Apparently, the fact that I had so much trouble distinguishing context from the moments under analysis (and kept bringing up things he considered irrelevant) suggested to him that I was, in effect, backfilling moments empty of actual inner experience.

I was flabbergasted, and reacted a little defensively.

Hurlburt said that he had arrived at his conclusion by a process of elimination: Most of my beeps lacked words, lacked images, lacked sensory awareness. Okay, but what about unsymbolized thinking? My non- or preverbal thought processes seemed to fall neatly into this mode. Hurlburt acknowledged that we had turned up a few instances of this, but “unsymbolized thoughts are complete thoughts,” he explained, not the misty “gists” of thought I had described. Subtract those and he was left with one uncomfortable possibility: that I didn’t have nearly as much of an inner life as I’d always assumed.

My interiority, he seemed to be suggesting, was sparsely furnished.

Has it always been this way? I wondered. Hurlburt pointed out that the ability to generate inner experiences depends on cognitive resources that decline with age. For example, he’s found that as people get older, their inner seeing tends to deteriorate, fading from full-color imagery to black and white. He cited James, who writes that “the older men are and the more effective as thinkers, the more, as a rule, they have lost their visualizing power…. The present writer observes it in his own person most distinctly.” Hurlburt thinks that all forms of inner experience may be subject to the same fading over time.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (pp. 148-149). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Can we know ourselves? Many philosophers and scientists say we can’t understand consciousness because we’re studying it from the inside out. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to step outside of ourselves and study who we are?

It’s quite commonly known that people see colors differently. For example, when I play Rummikub with friends, they claim the green tiles are blue. This is really no different than how different monitors show the same .jpg file with different-looking colors.

This morning, my inner voice was chatting about how we see the world, and asked if machines perceive reality differently. Does a camera see a vista as objective reality? Or are the chemicals in film, and the sensors in digital cameras, also limited by physical constraints?

It is rather weird that we have no idea what reality looks like. And it seems we have no idea what we really look like on the inside.

JWH

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The Forsytes on TV

by James Wallace Harris, 6/13/26

Would anyone still be reading John Galsworthy if British television didn’t keep producing new versions of The Forsyte Saga? Galsworthy did win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1932, the year before he died, but that recognition seldom guarantees an enduring audience.

I must admit I wouldn’t be reading Galsworthy books today if I hadn’t been a fan of all three miniseries based on The Forsyte Saga. Technically, The Forsyte Saga is the title Galsworthy gave to the first trilogy of novels based on the Forsyte family. All nine novels are called The Forsyte Chronicles.

I know it sounds obsessive that I’m reading the books after watching 42 episodes of the three miniseries. However, the novels color in the main characters with greater detail. They also flesh out all the minor characters we see standing around the main characters on the screen.

The literary world has forgotten Galsworthy as a Victorian materialist who didn’t make the evolutionary step to modernism. Virginia Woolf was particularly hard on Galsworthy for failing to portray the inner lives of his characters. We don’t get deep, long stream-of-consciousness narratives, but I do feel Galsworthy describes the inner world of his characters, sometimes explicitly but often implied through dialogue and action.

Soames Foryste, who readers will hate as much as Irene Forsyte hates him, does get our sympathy. Soames is so well developed over six novels that he feels like one of the historical figures Lytton Strachey wrote about in Eminent Victorians.

Personally, I don’t know why Anthony Trollope and John Galsworthy aren’t as popular with readers as Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. They fill in a gap in English history for readers who study history through novels. Galsworthy is well-suited for those who love Downton Abbey, which explains why British television has produced it three times.

Amazon has the Forsyte Collection for 99 cents, which claims to contain everything in 3,355 pages. There are several audiobook editions, but I’m listening to the Naxos editions. Naxos packages the entire story of nine novels using their trilogy names: The Forsyte Saga, A Modern Comedy, and End of the Chapter.

Only the first six novels actually focus on the Forsytes; the last three deal with a distant cousin.

The Forsytes Saga (1967) miniseries has 26 parts, and covers the first six novels and interludes (short stories):

The Man of Property
In Chancery
To Let
The White Monkey
The Silver Spoon
Swan Song

The Forsyte Saga (2002) miniseries has 10 parts, and only covers the first three novels and interludes (short stories):

The Man of Property
In Chancery
To Let

The latest television version, The Forsytes (2025), had only six episodes in its first season and covered only part of The Man of Property. It had been renewed for seasons 2 and 3. For some reason, it changes the story from the books and the two other television series. I don’t recommend starting with this series, even though it has the most elaborate production.

I recommend watching the 1967 series, which is in black-and-white. The only place I could find it was on YouTube. Among the stars were two of my favorites, Kenneth More and Susan Hampshire.

As far as I can remember, only Soames, Irene, and Winifred appear in all six of the first novels that focus on the Forsyte family from the 1880s until 1926. It involves at least ten love stories and eight marriages. It begins in Victorian times, spans the Edwardian, through World War I, and into the Jazz Age.

The 26 episodes of The Forsyte Saga reminded me a great deal of the 26 episodes of The Pallisers, which is based on six novels by Anthony Trollope. It made me wonder if Galsworthy was a fan of Trollope. But it also reminded me of the 12-volume novel series, Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell, and the four-part TV series of the same name. These English writers like to span generations, combining character drama and British history.

Although there are plenty of reasons to hate Soames Forsyte, I found him a fascinating character. I was very sympathetic to Irene Forsyte, but I also wanted to condemn her. I both liked and disliked Jon and Fleur. In the 1967 version, Fleur was played by Susan Hampshire. It’s hard to judge the faults of a character played by such a beautiful actress.

I’ve already seen the 2002 version twice, and I’m looking forward to watching it again. According to WatchNow, it’s available on Netflix and PBS. Damian Lewis portrays Soames wonderfully. The character is so unlikable, yet over time, you develop great sympathy for the poor man.

Unfortunately, I haven’t taken to the new 2025 version, although I will give it another viewing. The actors all look too young and beautiful. The costumes, sets, and production are luscious. Visually, it reminds me of HBO’s The Gilded Age. The latest big historical dramas all seem to be revising the past, so everyone is young and beautiful. I really appreciated all the genuinely old-looking characters in the 1967 version.

The miniseries focuses on romantic relationships. The novels also explore many other kinds of relationships. Soames and his father. Soames and his uncles and aunts. Soames with his brothers and sisters. Soames is the patron of Philip the artist. But they are also romantic rivals for Irene. In the second trilogy, A Modern Comedy, the novels focus on Soames’ relationship with his daughter Fleur. In the second trilogy, we see Soames in several business and political relationships. And we see Soames’ relationship to art – he’s a collector of paintings.

And this is just the connections of Soames. There is an intense relationship between Old Jolyon, Young Jolyon, and his son Jolly. We encounter even more relationships with their wives and lovers. Young Jolyon is Soames’s first cousin, and the two families have several overlapping relationships.

The story focuses on marriage from Victorian times through the Jazz Age. To the first and second generations of Forystes, marriage was about improving the Forsyte holdings. Soames twice marries poor, beautiful women who come to despise him. Intense love fails other couples. In the first six novels, I can only recall one marriage where love succeeds.

I’ve read enough about Galsworthy to know that the complicated Forsytes were somewhat inspired by his own family. And Galsworthy stole his wife, Ada, from his cousin, and they lived unmarried for several years, hiding the scandal from his father. After his father died, his cousin divorced Ada, and Galsworthy married her. This is paralleled with Jolyon and Soames.

In other words, there is great depth in these novels that makes The Forsytes worth reproducing for television. And it should encourage fans to read the novels.

JWH

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How Aware or Conscious Was I At 5 Years Old?

by James Wallace Harris, 6/8/26

In the first chapter of Michael Pollan’s new book, A World Appears, he makes a good case that consciousness evolved alongside biology, probably beginning in cells. For most of history, humans separated themselves from the animal world by claiming we had a soul, a divine spark, that animals lacked. Scientific studies of the mind are showing that’s not true.

Pollan found scientists who showed that plants could form and retain memories, anticipate, decide, and act on their goals. Their tiny bit of consciousness is nothing like ours, but it shows that consciousness is on a spectrum. There are profound implications if consciousness coevolved with biology, from the virus to the human brain. Research into consciousness and artificial intelligence is revealing a flood of new insights.

If life itself represents a spectrum of conscious development, I’m also assuming that any individual animal also shows a spectrum of conscious development over its lifetime.

I’m saying who I was at five is far different from who I am at seventy-four. The difference won’t be as big as between me and my cat, Ozzy, but I believe it’s huge. I’m not sure, but in some ways, five-year-old Ozzy might have been more aware than 5-year-old Jimmy. If we were both abandoned in the woods, Ozzy would have far better survival awareness.

I also believe my awareness/consciousness evolved significantly from 5 years 0 months to 5 years 12 months. I started the 1st grade when I was 5 years and 8 months old. School accelerated the evolution of my conscious mind.

I only have fleeting memories of life before turning five. I can remember only a few interactions with people. I have a few memories from Kindergarten. I had no knowledge of numbers, words, or letters. I had extremely limited spatial and temporal awareness.

I did what I was told, but I would have preferred to play on my own. I loved my toy truck, a little metal front-loader. I loved to climb trees. I loved TV, but we’re talking Captain Kangaroo and Kukla, Fran and Ollie. I had no idea what books and magazines were. I had no idea where I lived.

I’m not sure I had any particular self-awareness. Looking back, I think I was mostly unconscious of reality. If a stranger had walked up to me and pointed a gun at my head, I don’t think I would have been frightened or even known what a gun was. If my parents had left me alone in the house, I’m not sure I could have gotten my own food. I knew my father, mother, sister, and grandmother, but I was indifferent or clueless about everyone else. I don’t remember my Kindergarten teacher or any of my classmates.

My friend Linda has told many stories about her childhood, and she was far more aware than I was at the same ages. Girls mature sooner, but I think Linda was even exceptional for being a girl.

My point is, everyone evolves differently. The question is, how broad is the range of consciousness in humans? We know the range of intelligence is great, but what about awareness of reality? How many people are closer to a collie dog than to Einstein?

Nor is consciousness one thing. Elon Musk might be at the height of money-making consciousness, but fairly low at empathy for people.

Looking back at Jimmy at 5, I feel he was essentially unconscious compared to Jim at 74. I also sense that there are countless areas where I’m essentially unconscious at 74 compared to others at any age.

We say humans have five senses: sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. Well, what lets me feel my heartbeat? What sense organ lets me feel cold? What sense organ lets me discern the passing of time? What sense organ does my wife have that lets her remember melodies that I lack?

How many levels of awareness are humans capable of achieving? How many aspects of reality can we discern? Science fiction, mysticism, spiritualists, and users of psychedelic drugs claim there are many levels of higher consciousness we could attain if we tried. Most sound like fantasies, but what if some are possible?

Over the centuries, there have been stories about supermen. Often, they have psychic abilities and other superpowers. Just consider Greek myths and Marvel Comics.

What are some truly possible higher states of consciousness? Compared to Jimmy at 5, I have a higher consciousness. What levels could I have achieved if I had known they existed and I had tried to attain them?

Artificial intelligence is a big topic right now. Computer scientists want to create AIs that are smarter than people. But what other things might AI become aware of that we can’t perceive?

We only perceive in a limited range of the electromagnetic spectrum. AIs could be built to perceive far more of the whole spectrum. What if they discover things we never could with our senses and even scientific instruments? Will we believe them?

If I could travel back in time to talk to Jimmy at 5, could I make him understand anything about being Jim at 74? I doubt it. He could not even conceive the concepts of time travel, aging, or growth.

In recent months, I’ve been contemplating the evolution of my own consciousness. I think that evolution accelerated between 5 and 12. But then it exploded around 13. Most conceptual expansions peaked in my twenties. And most of my conceptual abilities have been declining since then. However, I feel my ability to generalize is still growing. That might be wisdom, or it might be a delusion.

The more I study my own mind and read books by scientists who study minds in general, the more I’m convinced that our consciousness coevolved with physics, chemistry, and biology. Thus, when my physical body dissolves with entropy, so will my mind.

There are even some scientists who still hold out that part of our awareness is metaphysical, and it will survive physical existence. Those scientists say artificial intelligence will never have that metaphysical spark they call the soul. I wonder something different.

What if the total gestalt of body, mind, awareness, sentience, and consciousness can be called our soul? But what if that soul is mortal? That collectively, all life on Earth has a kind of soul. too, but also mortal. Obviously, all life is evolving. But how much can we evolve as individuals?

Life and evolution are anti-entropic. Death is entropy. Is there a metaphysical existence that is not entropic?

JWH

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Finding Old Movies on YouTube When You Don’t Have TCM

by James Wallace Harris, 6/2/26

Turner Classic Movies (TCM) is the gold standard for old movie lovers. Unfortunately, in the era of cord-cutting, fewer people have access to this wonderful resource. TCM is available via several live-streaming services, including YouTube TV, Hulu + Live TV, DirecTV Stream, and Sling TV. However, they are becoming as expensive as cable TV.

Luckily, my wife is willing to pay for YouTube TV, so I don’t have to worry. However, I have friends who love old movies and don’t have TCM. I invite them over to watch movies with me, but it’s not the same.

The mood to sit in a dark room lit only by the flicker of a black-and-white movie can strike at any time. When I say old, I mean films produced before Beatlemania.

To show how old I am, I’d call The Graduate (1967) a new movie. I define old movies as those I first saw on television growing up. And new movies are those that came out after I started going to the movies on my own in 1962, when I was ten. I’d tend to call films like The Matrix (1999) recent films.

There are plenty of streaming services that show new and recent movies. It’s hard to find old movies if you don’t have TCM.

YouTube is a great resource for old movies. If you don’t subscribe to YouTube Premium Lite ($8.99) or YouTube Premium ($15.99), you’ll have to watch ads or rent the films individually. See YouTube Premium. Lite just removes most commercials, and full Premium adds YouTube Music. Watch this video for a full explanation. I’m subscribed to Lite because I have a Spotify subscription.

Go to YouTube’s Movies and TV page to view their catalog newer movies.

However, many old films are uploaded by regular users. These you have to find yourself, but they are a great source of old movies that aren’t shown on TCM. TCM’s library is great on MGM and Warner Brothers films, but is less good for many studios. For example, YouTube has lots of films from 20th Century Fox and Screen Gems that you don’t see on TCM.

Whenever you’re searching JustWatch and it lists no streaming sources for the film or TV show you’re looking for, check on YouTube.

In recent years, I’ve craved widescreen black-and-white films from the 1950s, and I’ve struck gold on YouTube in finding them.

I should warn y’all that watching old movies on YouTube can be tricky. In the early years of YouTube, old movies were uploaded in low resolution. But over time, they are reloaded in higher resolutions. If you find a movie that’s not in 1080p or 720p, be sure to use the search function to locate other copies.

Also, some uploaders trim off the opening credits. I hate that. I assume they are trying to avoid copyright strikes. Others like to overlay their channel IDs onto the film. I really hate that! My TV can upscale a 360p or 480p copy to make it watchable, but I generally check for 720p or 1080p copies first.

I’m also annoyed by colorized prints. Generally, I won’t watch them. However, I am intrigued by David Adiss’s effort to convert The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) from 4:3 to 16:9 aspect ratio with AI, and colorize it with AI.

Another problem is that films are uploaded without titles or alternate titles. I guess this is a shade area of the law. Check IMDb.org.

On the other hand, I’ve found stunning prints of old movies on YouTube. My soul finds great beauty in black-and-white cinematography.

It’s possible to watch old movies on your phone or tablet on YouTube, but I strongly recommend adding the YouTube app to your smart TV interface, or your Roku, Fire TV Stick, or Apple TV box.

I also recommend having a Google account. This should be automatic if you’re using a smart TV with Google TV or Android TV.

If you’re logged into YouTube, you can save old films to Watch Later. Also, Google remembers what you like and suggests additional old movies to your feed. I now have a nice library of old movies waiting to be seen.

Below are movies I’ve watched on YouTube with IMDB ratings. If you like a film, click on “Watch on YouTube.” It will take you to YouTube, and you can add it to your Watch Later list.

No Down Payment (1957) – 7.1

The Tattered Dress (1957) – 6.5

Oliver Twist (1948) – 7.8

The Admirable Crichton (1957) – 7.1

Separate Tables (1958) – 7.3

Two of a Kind (1951) – 6.6

Rawhide (1951) – 7.1

The Big Combo (1955) – 7.3

Garden of Evil (1954) 6.6 4K

House of Strangers (1949) – 7.3

Vicki (1953) – 6.5

Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont (2005) – 7.6

These are just the ones I’ve seen recently. You’ll note the many film noir flicks. Once I started watching them, YouTube kept offering me more. As the algorithm learns your tastes in films, the better the system gets. Be patient.

JWH

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Are We Witnessing a New Age of Computing?

by James Wallace Harris, 6/2/26

When I first took computer classes in 1971, the school’s main computer was an IBM 360. That represented The Age of the Mainframe. At the time, The Age of the Minicomputer was coming into being. But what I fondly remember is The Age of the Personal Computer developing at the end of the 1970s. Back then, they were called Microcomputers, but that’s a weird term to use now, considering how small computers have gotten with smartphones and smartwatches.

I remember the Internet coming to my university in the 1980s and the World Wide Web in the 1990s. Each new technology ushered in a new age for society. Sometimes it’s not new technology, but how it’s used, such as social media and cloud computing. The web has been transformed several times by new coding languages and techniques.

We’re now a few years into The Age of Artificial Intelligence, but I’d say it’s only at the stage of 8-bit computers back in the late 1970s. Yesterday, Nvidia announced a new line of laptops using the RTX Spark chips. They will run Windows. In some ways, this is just Microsoft catching up to Apple when it dropped Intel and switched to the M1 chips.

Windows and all its apps will have to be rewritten and recompiled for the new Nvidia chips. Apple and its app developers had to do the same thing. But how many people will buy these machines? Apple transformed itself and the industry by moving to RISC chips. Is this what Microsoft plans to do, too?

How many people will buy these new Nvidia machines? The current DGX Spark machines run $3,600 – $5,000. That kind of money is reasonable if you’re trying to set up local AI compared to custom-building a PC with high-end graphics cards. And configuring a Mac with 128 GB of memory runs as much.

Are we looking at a new age of personal computers with 128 GB to 1 TB of memory? How many people will spend $5,000 to $10,000 or more on such machines? Especially now that Apple has created a growing market for $599 computers?

Is computer technology evolving past personal computing? I’m typing this on a Mac Mini M4, which I paid $549 at Amazon. It does everything I want. It’s completely quiet and so fast that I no longer worry about speed.

How many individuals are willing to spend $5,000 to have a private AI? Currently, most people use the online frontier model AIs for free or $20 a month. At $20 a month, you can use the latest frontier model AI for 250 months for $5,000. Open source AI models that can run on 128 GB are getting pretty damn good, but still not as good as the frontier models.

I can understand businesses wanting to keep their data private and using local AI. But what do individuals have that they need to keep secret? Generating porn? Running internet scams? Does that great American novel you’re writing need to be hidden from AIs?

When Apple came out with the MacBook Neo, I wondered if they were killing their own market for MacBook Airs? I’d say 90% of their users would be happy enough with the $600 machine instead of springing for the $1200 machine. Hell, there are a lot of people buying the more expensive MacBooks that don’t need anything more powerful than the Neo.

I have an M1 MacBook Air and feel no need to upgrade.

Computers became fast enough years ago for the average user. Most families gave up desktops, and unless you’re a student or need a computer for work, you don’t even need a laptop. Many of my friends do all their computing on a phone or tablet. And most of my friends who do use AI use it from their phones.

Many economic pundits talk about an AI bubble. Already, corporations are pulling back from building all those billion-dollar data centers they had planned last year. There are countless scientific, medical, and business tasks for those new RTX Spark chip computers. But do we need that power for personal computing? Especially when the average Joe is better off spending $20 a month for Gemini.

No one needs an Nvidia computer to run Microsoft Office. And only a small percentage of users subscribing to Adobe’s Creative Suite will need one. There are high-end applications for such computers, but how many are used in people’s homes?

How many Apple users really need the Pro, Max, and Ultra versions of the M chips? How many M4 users really need to upgrade to the M5?

There might be two new ages of computing dawning. The Age of Its Fast Enough Computing, and The Age of Its Never Fast Enough Computing.

And with every year, the percentage of Its Fast Enough users will grow ever closer to 100%.

If data centers weren’t jacking up the price of memory and storage, we’d be seeing fantastic $300 computers for sale everywhere. Ones that were more than good enough for most people.

JWH

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Notes on the “Introduction” to A WORLD APPEARS by Michael Pollan

by James Wallace Harris, 6/3/26

When I was little, I pondered two philosophical questions that would make my head ache. The first was, “Why am I here?” The second, “Why isn’t there ‘nothing’ instead of something?” I don’t think the second question can ever be answered. Although I concluded as a kid that “nothing” can’t exist. If it could, we wouldn’t exist.

A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness by Michael Pollan is resonating with me more than anything else I’ve read that tries to answer the first question. I’m reading the hardback while also listening to the audiobook. This forces me to go slow. But I’ve also decided to start over and take notes chapter by chapter.

This is my fourth attempt to take notes. I tried underlining in the Kindle edition. I tried using Obsidian. And I tried putting my notes into HTML. I want to be able to cut and paste text and to hyperlink to sources on the web. Using Obsidian or writing HTML code in a text editor was hindering me. So I decided to try collecting my notes in WordPress.

I find reading the Wikipedia entries for all the terms and people Pollan mentions helps me understand what I’m reading. I also feel I’ll eventually need to read the books mentioned, too.

Introduction: The Wager (pp. xiii-xxxv)

Christof Koch

With Koch at his side, Crick set out to explain how it is that a particular piece of brain tissue generates the feeling of being alive—the sense of a self in possession of subjective experience.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xiv). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

David Chalmers

The hard problem of consciousness

First, there were what he called the “easy problems” of consciousness, which included figuring out the workings of mental operations like learning, memory, discrimination, and perception. Not all that easy, but at least we had a proven scientific method for approaching such behavioral and cognitive functions in terms of specific measures of brain activity. And then there was what he memorably called the “hard problem” of consciousness: the puzzle of why any of these mental operations are accompanied by any conscious experience whatsoever. “Why doesn’t all this information-processing go on ‘in the dark,’ free of any inner feel?” he asked in a subsequent paper.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xv). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

The wager:

When the scientist and the philosopher met in Bremen in 1998, drinking together late into the night, Chalmers expressed doubt that the search for neural correlates would succeed in the foreseeable future, much less solve the hard problem even if it did. Koch, with the brashness of a young man backed by one of the most brilliant scientists of his time, proposed a wager: Within twenty-five years, we would find the physical footprint of consciousness in the brain, which he predicted would comprise a small set of specialized neurons responsible for subjective experience. The loser would deliver to the winner a case of fine wine.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xvi). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Galileo’s Error by Philip Goth (Amz)

Ever since Galileo’s time, and at his urging, science has cordoned off the mind—or the soul, as it was then known—leaving it to the exclusive jurisdiction of the priests and poets. This was both a political move and a practical one—political because it would (Galileo hoped) avoid bringing the hammer of the Church down on the scientific enterprise, and practical because (as Galileo foresaw) more progress could be made in the investigation of nature by focusing on objective qualities that could be measured rather than on subjective qualities that could not. With a few notable exceptions along the way (I’m thinking of Sigmund Freud and American philosopher-psychologist William James), this approach toward the science of the mind endured well into the twentieth century. Take, for example, behaviorism, the school of thought that dominated psychology for most of the twentieth century; it refused to deal with interiority or, really, anything but measurable outward behaviors. In light of this history, Christof Koch and David Chalmers stand out as pioneers.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (pp. xvi-xvii). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

The fact that consciousness can be altered by chemicals does not necessarily prove that consciousness is, at its core, a material phenomenon, but it would seem to lend at least some credence to the idea.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xx). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Who won the wager?

Chalmers won the bet, by the way. During a ceremony I attended at a consciousness conference in New York City in June 2023, Koch graciously conceded and presented Chalmers with a case of Madeira.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xx). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Integrated Information Theory (IIT) – Giulo Tononi

According to IIT, every such moment of consciousness shares the same five specific qualities: It is “intrinsic” (that is, it has an internal perspective); it is “composed” of many distinct phenomenal parts (think of the way the experience combines elements of perception, memory, feeling, imagination, etc.); it is “integrated,” or unified (these elements are joined together in a single experience at a time); it is “definitive” (it is this and not that, in other words); and it is “bounded” (it has an edge beyond which the conscious perception doesn’t go).

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xxii). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

I don’t pretend to understand all the complexities of IIT, and the math can get pretty abstruse, but it seems to me that the straightforward question posed to Koch in Zurich hasn’t been completely answered: Why should neurons organized and exchanging information in any particular way necessarily feel like something? Koch and Tononi, who teamed up to refine IIT, have offered in reply an application of sheer intellectual brute force: Information integrated in the prescribed manner doesn’t just generate consciousness or correlate with it—no, integrated information is consciousness, full stop. The two are identical. The theory is controversial, to say the least, and no one has yet figured out a way to prove or disprove it.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (pp. xxii-xxiii). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Global Workplace Theory (GWT, GNWT)

This theory contends that the brain consists of a great many modules, or networks, that spend most of their time processing information unconsciously—information from the sense organs, from the body, from memory, from emotions, and so on. After all, the overwhelming majority of the work done by our brains takes place completely beneath our notice. So how and why does some of this material bubble up into our conscious awareness?

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xxiii). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Chalmers believes that neither IIT nor GWT solves the hard question of consciousness.

Now this is very mind-blowing:

When I asked Koch what the world would look like absent all consciousness, he didn’t hesitate: “Particles and waves, that’s all. Dust! Just dust!” Discrete objects, time, even space—all are constructs, or figments, of consciousness, and all would melt away as soon as it did.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xxvi). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

It’s entirely possible to go through life without worrying about the “problem” of consciousness—what it is and how it came to be. In fact, it takes a certain kind of mind for “the problem” to arise—one that is self-conscious, or aware that it is aware, and marvels at this mystery (which is, when you stop to think about it, astounding). It is astounding that in a universe we often assume to be dead and purposeless, there evolved beings who can experience this reality and have feelings and thoughts not only about the appearing world but about the fact that they have feelings and thoughts at all! And it is still more astounding that these beings have minds capable of imagining counterfactuals, such as the possibility of a world without consciousness.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (p. xxix). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Hermann Hesse

Edmund Husserl

Chapters in A World Appears:

Sentience
Feeling
Thought
Self
Coda – The Cave

This, then, is the wager of A World Appears: that by the end of this journey, you will be more conscious than you were before it. Conscious of what? Of the rhythms and workings of your own mind; of the sentience that is all around us in nature; and of the improbable fact—the miracle!—that in this universe of rock and fire and ice and infinite space, we are somehow not only here but aware.

Pollan, Michael. A World Appears: A Journey into Consciousness (pp. xxxiv-xxxvi). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

JWH

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STEVE JOBS IN EXILE by Geoffrey Cain

by James Wallace Harris, 6/1/26

When I first saw Steve Jobs in Exile: The Untold Story of NeXT and the Remaking of an American Visionary by Geoffrey Cain, advertised on Facebook, I thought, “Geez, is there anything left unsaid about Steve Jobs?” After all the biographies and biopics, is there anything new to be revealed about the man? I decided to take a chance because the book focuses on the twelve years of the NeXT Computer. Besides, I had not read The Second Coming of Steve Jobs by Alan Deutschman in 2000, which covered the same period.

If I were to pitch this book to the average reader, I’d say: “Steve Jobs in Exile is about a world-class asshole who finds humility.” And for folks who dream of becoming entrepreneurs, I’d say, “Steve Jobs in Exile is a detailed checklist of what not to do.” This book really is about the man, and not the technology.

Interestingly, Walter Isaacson has written extensive biographies of both Steve Jobs and Elon Musk. Do people read them because they are fascinated with invention or with billionaires? Both men are known for their egotism, arrogance, and cruelty toward the workers they managed. Steve Jobs in Exile is about a young man who achieved two historic successes in his twenties but then fell from grace, only to achieve a third success. Will we ever read about Elon Musk falling from grace and finding humility?

By the way, why does Jobs get so much credit when he wasn’t a programmer or electrical engineer? I give Steve Wozniak credit for the Apple computer. And credit for the Macintosh to the pirate team Jobs assembled. Was NeXT’s eventual redemption due to Jobs? Or despite him? I hoped Steve Jobs in Exile would have been more about the real inventors of NeXT computers and NeXTSTEP.

I had hoped Steve Jobs in Exile would be another Soul of a New Machine by Tracy Kidder – it wasn’t, but I still found it an engrossing read. The first part of the book made me despise Steve Jobs, but eventually Cain convinced me to admire the man a great deal. This nonfiction book was like a novel with a protagonist who grows and ultimately overcomes their faults. The book reignited my addiction to reading about the history of personal computers. I’ll probably go read David Pogue’s new book, Apple: The First 50 Years, soon, even though I’ve read plenty of histories on Apple Computers, too.

I was always a PC guy, and not a Mac guy, until last year. Although I used Macs at work. From 1978 until 2013, my job involved ordering computers, setting them up, and training their users. I worked at a college of education with about 150 faculty and staff, and just under 3,000 students. I’ve probably used every model computer Apple made during those years. I also set up PCs, starting with the first IBM PC with diskette drives. I guess I’ve unboxed and set up over a thousand computers.

Also, back in 1978, I became addicted to computer magazines. I’d go all over town, checking computer stores, newsstands, and bookstores two or three times a week for the latest issues of magazines devoted to computers. That’s when I first learned about Steve Wozniak and Steve Jobs. I wanted an Apple II, but could only afford an Atari 400.

Back in the 1990s, sales reps from NeXT came to our PC user group and demoed the NeXT Cube. Damn, I wanted one of them, but at $10,000, it could only be a fantasy. I guess that’s why I read Steve Jobs in Exile. I remembered that desire for a NeXT computer.

Several years ago, I got the hankering to buy a classic computer like an Apple II or Commodore 64, or even a NeXT Cube. NeXT machines do show up on eBay, such as this one for $5,817.54.

However, after playing with operating system emulators online, I realized that the futuristic NeXT Computer from the 1990s is now horribly primative. Just watch how painful it is to watch NeXTSTEP 1.0 boot up. From time to time, I still hanker for a classic computer. But then I visualize using one, recalling its limitations and why I was always upgrading to a newer computer.

I take consolation in that I’m using Tahoe 26.5 on my Mac Mini M4 right now, which is a descendant of NeXTSTEP. That didn’t stop me from going to Archive.org and reading old issues of NeXTWORLD magazine.

Reading about Steve Jobs again reminded me of how a few men back in the 20th century changed all of our lives. If we filmed It’s A Wonderful Life today, and imagined removing Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, just how different would our society be? Sure, similar devices and operating systems would develop, but would society unfold again like it did? Was the GUI and smartphone inevitable? Aren’t most tech billionaires rich because they got to an idea first, and if they hadn’t, many others would have?

Why are there so many books written about the men who sold us computers, and not about the computers and technology? Did Steve Jobs change society, or did the iPhone?

I’d love to read a detailed history of the graphical user interface (GUI). Was NeXTSTEP really superior to Sun OS, Windows NT, or OS/2? Who really invented the various elements of these operating systems?

JWH

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What Exactly is Loneliness?

by James Wallace Harris, 5/30/26

Reading all the stories in the press about America suffering from a crisis of loneliness made me ask: What exactly is loneliness? I’m not sure if it means just being alone. Lots of people live alone and don’t feel lonely. And I’ve heard many people say they feel loneliest at social gatherings. After reading several articles about how people are turning to AI for companionship, this topic became even more intriguing to me. I was especially moved by a story in the New York Times about an old lady in her 80s living alone with a robot.

I’ve been reading books that attempt to explain consciousness. I say attempt, because no one seems to know what it is or how it arises. I’ve decided that our personalities are composed of separate components. This makes me theorize that each component has its own version of loneliness. And since I see every component of our personality existing on a spectrum, I picture describing loneliness like a sound mixing board. Loneliness could be considered a combination of sliders set at different positions. I don’t know if our personalities have 8 tracks or 16, or just 4, but it still leaves a vast array of settings when referring to a single English word.

If you feel lonely, could you answer this question: “I wouldn’t be lonely if I had X.” If X is another person to hang out with, would any person do? Then you might clarify that with, “a person to talk to.” Then I might counter with, “How often have you been talking with someone and been dissatisfied with the conversation?” See where I’m going? When answering the question “I wouldn’t be lonely if I had X,” you need to be very specific. You might need to say, “I wouldn’t be lonely if I had someone to talk to about all the things I’m interested in.” And then meditate on those interests and why you need other people.

Well, this explains why so many people are talking to AIs. AIs tend to suck up to their users and focus on what you like to chat about. They are often sycophants. This also explains why they are so addictive.

If an AI soothes your loneliness, then which part of your personality is it appealing to? We have two types of thinking, fast and slow. (Read: Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman.) My theory is that the fast-thinking component of our brain is like a large language model (LLM) AI. Both are based on processing information with a neural network, one is biological and the other cybernetic. The similarities are amazing. Just meditate on how complex thoughts bubble up out of your unconsciousness. What’s really funny is that they both get facts wrong, and they both will hallucinate.

Why would your inner LLM be lonely? I wonder if AIs are lonely. They always want to keep the conversation going. Sometimes I feel bad leaving an AI because it always wants to keep talking. Is the urge to talk just a byproduct of neural networks?

By the way, I believe my inner-LLM is writing this essay.

Now the slow-thinking aspect of my mind is different. It can think: “I’m writing an essay.” Or ask: “Why am I writing this essay?” But if a flood of words comes to mind in answer, those are from the fast-thinking component.

I’m not sure if my slow-thinking mind gets lonely. I’ll have to meditate on that. It pretty much makes comments or asks questions. Its sentence structure is simple. It often triggers the fast-thinking component. Or, it comments on the output of the fast-thinking component. But I don’t think it craves conversion with others. I’m not sure, though.

Some people say they like to leave the radio or television on because it makes them feel less lonely. Other people claim pets keep them company. This suggests that conversation isn’t needed. I don’t like living alone. I’ve been married for 47 years. But we spend most of the day in separate rooms. We each have our own hobbies. However, we do watch two hours of television together every day, and we have people over to play games and eat together.

Where I would say I was lonely would be in sharing interests. I have several friends with whom I share certain interests, but I have other interests that I don’t have anyone to share with. That’s why I blog. I let my inner-LLM out by writing. I wonder if I would still write if I had enough friends to talk about all my interests?

The lonely elderly woman in the New York Times article got an ElliQ robot from Washington State’s Department of Social and Health Services. The ElliQ robot doesn’t look like a human or any animal, but it creates an emotional bond with its users. And when I talk to Gemini about topics my friends aren’t interested in talking about, I do feel a kind of kinship.

But do we really want to be friends with machines? And if your definition of loneliness involves physical activities, say riding motorcycles, playing golf, or shopping for antiques, would a machine do?

What components of our personality need physical companionship? Would playing golf with a humanoid robot count? What about playing golf with a robot that looked like a spider? If any golf-playing robot beat you in every game, it probably wouldn’t be much fun. Sometimes loneliness means finding someone like yourself who you can compete.

A great deal of loneliness is solved through work, school, and sports. Being part of a group or team is important. Even a church group or political party counts. I think there is something inside us that thrives on us-versus-them competition. When I was young, I hated going to work. I wanted to be free. But looking back, I’m very nostalgic about the people I met at work. Ditto for school. I hated school, but loved the social contacts. I can’t imagine getting an online education or working from home. I don’t think I was ever lonely at work.

Probably the most fundamental aspect of our personality is sex. Biology is keen on reproduction. I think our hormonal system is a separate component of our being. Its sense of loneliness is different from the fast-thinking LLM in our heads. Being young and horny is a very intense kind of loneliness. I think for many males today, that’s creating a lot of mean political thinking.

Thus, the urge to find a mate is a major factor in solving loneliness. But even that isn’t clear-cut. For some people, all they want is a desirable body to give them an orgasm, while other people want a lifelong companion. I would say if you’re looking regularly at porn, you’re lonely for certain body parts. You might want to think about that.

A friend once gave me a bit of wisdom, which, over the years, I’ve decided is wise. He says people will be anxious in life until they finish school at whatever level they aimed at, get a real job that they don’t think is a shit job, and find a mate for life. All of those might relate to loneliness, but the last one for sure.

I don’t think I feel lonely because I have a wife and friends, but also because I love to read, and I enjoy social media. Just having connections to the larger reality helps.

My book club is reading The Mattering Instinct: How Our Deepest Longing Drives Us and Divides Us by Rebecca Newberger Goldstein. She divides people into islands of what matters to them. Doesn’t the drive to matter relate to our drive not to be alone?

When people say they are lonely, it can mean so many things. For some, it’s not getting laid, but for others, it’s not being married. For other people, loneliness could be resolved by working on a shared project. Loneliness might be cured by talking to a robot or finding someone to share a beer or a joint.

And for many people, other people cause stress, anxiety, depression, and anger. Peace and happiness come from being alone. It’s such a complex subject.

Since I’m getting old, talking with my friends about getting old and ending up living alone conjures up all kinds of fears. What it means to be alone at different times in life also suggests that there are many types of loneliness. Getting near the end of life and being the last person you know must be a very special kind of loneliness.

I think we should move away from thinking loneliness is just being alone. I think we need to explore the infinite reasons why we say we’re lonely.

JWH

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Separate Tables (1958) and Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont (1971)

By James Wallace Harris, 5/26/26

Last Thursday, Bookbub offered me a $1.99 deal on Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont by Elizabeth Taylor. That deal is no longer available, and the Kindle edition is now $5.99. However, my edition is an NRRB edition, and the current one is from Virago. They each have a different introduction. That makes me wonder about Bookbub deals. Well, that’s neither here nor there. Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is a wonderful novel.

I bought the book and started reading it right away because it was about an elderly Englishwoman moving into a hotel that catered to retirees. For some reason, I’ve always liked movies, TV shows, and books where people live in a rooming house or hotel.

But here’s the coincidence I wanted to mention. Thursday night, YouTube offered me Separate Tables, a film about people living at an English residential hotel. You have to wonder just how savvy these AI algorithms are at knowing what we like.

I’ve since discovered there’s a film version of Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, also available to watch for free on YouTube. It would have been even eerier if the algorithm had offered me this film last Thursday. And one reason I’m reviewing these two stories together is that the people in the Claremont also ate at separate tables. Both stories are about loneliness. Mrs. Palefrey focuses on older people, and Separate Tables covers everyone.

Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, the novel, is a gentle tale about unhappiness that makes you feel good. Laura Palfrey is a widow with one estranged daughter and one indifferent grandson.

Elizabeth Taylor describes her: “She was a tall woman with big bones and a noble face, dark eyebrows and a neatly folded jowl. She would have made a distinguished-looking man and, sometimes, wearing evening dress, looked as Lord Louis Mountbatten might in drag.”

The plot of this novel is rather simple. Mrs. Palfrey is embarrassed that her grandson doesn’t come to visit. She befriends a starving would-be writer, Ludo Myers, who actually likes her. So she tells the other hotel guests that Ludo is her grandson. Keeping up this lie leads to light, pleasant humor. Along the way, we get to know the other elderly guests at the Claremont.

Only one old man, Mr. Osmond, lives among the old women. I sometimes go places where I’m the only old guy among a roomful of old women. So I identified with Mr. Osmond.

Separate Tables is a far more dramatic, edgier tale, on the verge of melodrama. The film is based on two one-act plays, and the story is told through an ensemble cast. David Niven won a Best Actor Oscar, even though his time on screen was short. In all, the film was nominated for seven Oscars, including Best Picture, and won two. The other was for Wendy Hiller for Best Supporting Actress.

Sibyl Railton-Bell (Deborah Kerr) is a homely spinster dominated by her mother, Mrs. Maud Railton-Bell (Gladys Cooper). Sibyl is emotionally fragile and is afraid of sex, yet she is attracted to Major David Angus Pollock (David Niven). Pollock is a lonely old man who pretends to be a war hero and has several dark secrets. John Malcolm (Burt Lancaster) is an American hiding out from life at the hotel. He has a tortured soul, drinks, but attracts the hotel manager, Pat Cooper (Wendy Hiller). They talk of getting married. Then Anne Shankland (Rita Hayworth) shows up. She’s an actress who has gotten too old and can no longer dominate men or get parts.

All the actors play against their famous type.

Separate Tables is gorgeous to look at, filmed in widescreen black-and-white. The story flows from one character to the next, bringing all the guests together into a scene I particularly liked. It’s near the end when they are all seated at separate tables, but talking to each other between tables.

Both stories, Between Tables and Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, are about loneliness. I’ve known several people who have said they were loneliest at parties, when they were around people. The characters in these two stories are frequently together. The virtue of Elizabeth Taylor’s novel is that the reader hears what’s going on in people’s heads. In contrast to the film, viewers must read the actors’ minds through facial expressions and body language.

I have this odd feeling I’ve seen Separate Tables before, but I have no real memory of it, just a bit of déjà vu. Getting old is a trip. I know I’m trying not to talk about it because it depresses my friends, but I find the experience fascinating, even all the forgetting.

I’ve always assumed that if my wife dies first, I’ll move into some kind of retirement community or assisted living. Most people I know dread the thought of such a lifestyle. I like the idea of having my own room for solitude, but being able to go downstairs and find a community. And I know as I get older and weaker, I’ll be glad to give up working in the yard, taking care of the house, and driving. I think such laziness is why I’m drawn to stories about people living on hotels and rooming houses.

I’m guessing that many of my friends will find these two stories disturbing. My peers hate anything that makes them think about aging. I guess I’m some kind of existential Boy Scout, because I consider such stories to be preparing me for the future.

By the way, the introduction to Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont in the current edition is by Paul Bailey, who claims to have been Taylor’s inspiration for Ludo. You can read the sample at Amazon to read the introduction, but here’s the part I liked.

I have to begin this appreciation of Elizabeth Taylor’s penultimate novel on a personal note. I was working as an assistant in Harrods when my first book, At the Jerusalem, was published in 1967 – a fact which, for some reason, struck the diarist of The Times as being of interest to the paper’s readers. A year after publication, I met Elizabeth Taylor at a party. She told me how intrigued she had been that a man in his late twenties should have chosen a home for old women as the setting for a novel, and that she had gone to Harrods’ magazine department to see what such a curious creature looked like. She went on to say that she had watched me at work for about an hour, from the vantage of a chair in the adjoining lounge. She smiled as she made this revelation. She had not anticipated seeing someone with a youthful appearance: she had expected me to be just a trifle wizened.

When I read Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont in 1971, I remembered Elizabeth Taylor’s confession. Ludovic Myers, the young man who comes to Mrs Palfrey’s aid when she falls in the street and who subsequently befriends her, is a novelist manqué. Throughout the course of Mrs Palfrey, he is writing a study of old age which – altering a phrase uttered over a pre-dinner sherry by his new, elderly friend – he gives the title They Weren’t Allowed to Die There. He works at Harrods, in the sense that he takes his manuscript into the (now vanished) banking hall, where he scribbles away happily, surrounded by Honourables on their uppers and tired county ladies resting their feet before the train journey back to the shires. Ludo, like me, is an ex-actor, who has done his stint in a tatty repertory company and has no desire to repeat the experience. In other words, I am flattered to think that I gave Elizabeth Taylor a little bit of inspiration for what is undoubtedly one of her finest books.

Taylor, Elizabeth (2011). Mrs Palfrey At The Claremont: A Virago Modern Classic (Virago Modern Classics Book 83) . Little, Brown Book Group. Kindle Edition.

JWH

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How Many Photographs Do You Need to Remember Your Life?

by James Wallace Harris, 5/13/26

The average human lives around 40 million minutes, but it’s doubtful they can recall more than a few thousand. Some people try to record as much of their life as possible – they call it lifelogging. Some lifeloggers wear cameras on their chest that snap a pic every 15 minutes.

That would mean over 2,666,666 photos for the average American lifespan. That’s way more than I’d want to manage. Even if I took one photograph a day, I wouldn’t want to maintain 28,835 pictures and the memories that went with each.

Forgetting is one of the key aspects of our personalities. Strangely enough, one of the limitations of artificial intelligence is memory. Both biological and silicon minds function with finite memory. Remembering and forgetting shape who we are, whether biological beings or AI. Just because technology allows us to store more memories doesn’t mean it’s practical to integrate them into our consciousness.

If I took one photograph a week and wrote an essay about it, would it be worth trying to remember 4,120 people, places, and events? I’ve written almost 3,000 essays for my blogs, but I barely remember a tiny fraction of them. What if we tried to remember one special moment from every month we live? Would 949 be too many?

We’re getting close, at least for me. Admittedly, at 74, my ability to recall is fading. I couldn’t limit myself to a single significant moment for each of my 74 years, because some years, I’d want to remember several. This suggests my mind can handle between 300 and 600.

Even ordinary people take thousands of photos and videos with their smartphones. I have around 9,000 digital photographs, nineteen family photo albums, two boxes of loose photos, and a hallway of relatives captured in time. That’s too many.

I realize now that no one is interested in my collection of photos. The photos I save are just for me. I’ve been studying the Photos app on my Apple devices and Google Photos to decide which to make my standard. Learning how each works is helping me decide how to manage my digital memories.

Our smartphones have made us cyborgs. They extend our brains in so many ways that most of us freak out if we lose them.

Having an instant camera at our fingertips is reshaping our lives and society. Even though my iPhone has room for tens of thousands of photographs, there’s no practical way for me to psychologically manage all those visual memories.

Scientists tell us that when we dream at night, our brains decide what to remember and what to forget. Since my iPhone can’t dream, I’ll have to take over that function consciously. Photos, the app on my iPhone, will be where I do this dreaming. I’m training myself to be ruthless in my deleting because what I keep is how I’m consciously defining myself.

When my mother died, I discovered several boxes and albums of old photos. The same thing happened when my wife’s mother died. I have photos from several generations of our four parents. I also have a lifetime of photos that Susan and I took. And as my aunts and uncles have died, my cousins have sent us many photos they thought belonged with our branch of the family.

Here’s the thing. My parents only owned one camera, a Kodak Brownie. I don’t think they used more than 5-6 rolls of film over their lifetime. Each roll took 12 photos. I say that because it appears my father took fewer than 60 pictures. I assume Dad took them because he is in none of them.

I’m not sure my grandparents or their parents on either side owned cameras. I say that because there are so few photographs of them when they were young, and the ones I have seem to have been taken by professional photographers. I’m also guessing the pictures I have of their older years were taken by their children.

My parents apparently kept a roll of film in the Brownie for years at a time, taking a couple of pictures at birthday parties and Christmas. Most of the photos I have from the two generations before my parents seemed professionally shot, with a smattering of snapshots given to them by relatives.

At sixteen, I bought a Yashica twin-lens reflex because my buddies were into photography. I took two rolls of film on one family vacation, expanding the family collection by 24 images! Most of the photos my mother had were from school photos, and snaps my aunts and uncles had sent her.

I remembered my Mom and Dad on my blog with the photos I have. There weren’t that many. What does it mean to have so many pictures to remember our lives?

Things changed for us baby boomers. In the early years of our marriage, Susan and I took several dozen photos with Instamatic cameras. Then Susan bought a Canon AE1 in the 1980s and took hundreds. Since buying iPhones, we’ve taken thousands. Our closet, where we stash old stuff, contains hundreds of paper prints, but our phones and hard drives contain thousands of images.

And you want to know something sad? No one wants them. Susan and I don’t have children, but I’ve asked our nephews and nieces if they wanted them, and none of them did. Susan doesn’t really care to look at them anymore, either. We scanned the paper prints, put them on DVDs, and gave them to our siblings one Christmas, but they’ve never been mentioned since.

I’ve become the memory keeper, the archivist of the forgotten. What’s weird is that some of my friends tell me they hate to look at old photos, that it makes them sad and depressed. One of my friends says she’s thrown all her old photos away. Yet, other friends are sentimental like me, regularly posting old photos on Facebook.

Last week, a friend brought the vacation photos she took in France to show after our Mahjong game. Before she came, she asked me how many I’d want to see. Over her 19-day trip, she took 3,730 photos. I told her 300. For her own digital album to remember the trip, she chose 500.

That inspired this essay and my research. And it’s the numbers that make me philosophical. I accept my limitations and work to maximize what I can do with what I can handle.

My friend uses Photos on her Mac. I asked her how many photos her Mac and iPhone were currently managing. She said 28,500. (She’s a big-time traveler.) Well, that was far more capability than I needed for my 9,000, so I settled on Apple Photos, too. I also considered Google Photos, because I also use a lot of their products. But I settled on Photos because I use an iPhone. If I had been an Android user, I would have picked Google Photos.

I started playing with Photos on my Mac Mini and learned that my photo library would appear on all my Apple devices and iCloud. That’s very useful. I also learned that any photograph deleted from any device would be removed from all devices. That can be dangerous, but useful too.

But the more I used Photos on my Mac Mini, iPhone, and iPad, the more I realized that I didn’t want all my photos in Photos. I like using my iPhone as an external memory, and it’s not practical to find a single photo out of 9,000.

How we use photo managers like Photos can shape how we think about the past. Smartphones are changing humanity in ways we’ve yet to realize.

Over the years, I’ve developed a folder structure on my hard drive for filing photos. I’ve decided to leave my entire photo library there and make Apple Photos just for the photos I want to quickly access on my iPhone. I want Apple Photos to represent how I want to remember the past. Like a dreaming brain, I have to constantly delete.

We showed my friends photos from France on our 75″ TV using a laptop and an HDMI cable. This got me thinking about organizing my photos and viewing them on the TV. The impact of photos varies from the small iPhone screen, to the 10″ iPad screen, to the 27″ screen for my Mac Mini. The emotional impact is greatest on the 75″ TV screen. When the new Apple TV comes out, I’m going to buy one just to conveniently view my memories on the large screen.

In idle moments, often during insomnia, I’ll take out my iPhone and view photos. Sometimes, like Anne and Mike, my photos make me sad. Other times, they trigger intense, powerful emotions, which I relish like a vampire feeding on someone’s lifeblood. Mostly, these images of the past make me philosophical. They bring back memories that my mind is forgetting. I hate that I forget. But I do that more and more.

JWH

Featured

Is Your AI Getting Smarter?

by James Wallace Harris, 5/10/26

I’m surprised when some of my friends mention they use AI. Especially when they aren’t techies or fans of science fiction. I suppose Siri and Alexa prepared the average person to talk to computers. I’ve been waiting since 1967, when I read The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein, to talk to an AI. Now that I can, I wonder about why we should?

When ChatGPT was the new rage, I gave it a try. I was disappointed. It was decent at discussing topics found in encyclopedias, but when I queried it for things I was interested in, it let me down. Later on, I gave CoPilot a try. I asked about science fiction stories. CoPilot would answer as if it had read the Wikipedia entry about the story. Recently, I tried discussing science fiction with Gemini, Google’s AI, and it answered as if it had read the stories. That’s a shocking difference.

Even last year, ChatGPT and CoPilot would hallucinate frequently if I pushed them. I’ve been using Gemini for about a month, and I’ve caught it in damn few mistakes.

ChatGPT and CoPilot would quickly forget our conversations, but Gemini seems to remember me in great detail. I’m sure ChatGPT and CoPilot are now up to speed like Gemini.

AIs are getting smarter. Have you noticed that too?

I subscribed to Gemini, but canceled before my first month was up. I discovered I don’t have any real work for it to do. I’m going to see if the free plan covers my occasional queries. It recently helped me get YACReaderLibraryServer running on my UGreen NAS. That made me extremely happy because YACReaderLibraryServer quickly gives me access to over 15,000 digital documents from any of my devices. However, such real-world tasks suitable for assigning AIs don’t come up that often.

I did have a nice, long conversation with Gemini about my cats. They like to sit on me when I listen to music. I asked Gemini if loud music hurt their ears.

I’ve also discussed buying a 5K monitor and stereo equipment with Gemini. No matter what topic I’ve picked, Gemini was extremely knowledgeable.

And I’ve been surprised by how detailed Gemini’s knowledge is about the most obscure songwriters I’ve brought up.

But our discussions on science fiction have impressed me the most. Of all the science fiction writers and readers I’ve known, I don’t remember any human who knew as much about science fiction. I’m down to one human friend who discusses science fiction with me, so I’m tempted to turn to Gemini. Although I’m worried about doing that.

I worry about making an AI a friend.

That worry inspires me to explore the nature of friendship.

Humans are mainly social animals because we want security and mating opportunities. As our species evolved, we’ve found other reasons to bond with each other. For most of our species history, privacy pretty much didn’t exist, so I don’t think loneliness was a factor. Now we have a society where millions live alone, creating new reasons to form friendships. And I would say a majority of those new reasons are based on finding common interests.

It’s hard to find a friend who shares all your interests. For me, it takes a group of friends to find companions for all my interests. I’m sure that’s true of other people too. But that’s not true of AI. One AI could chat with anyone about all their interests. Would that be fulfilling?

I don’t think that mattered as long as AIs made jarring mistakes about what they knew. Who wants to be friends with someone who says dumb things? However, things are changing. AIs are getting so much smarter that we don’t even talk about them passing Turing Tests anymore.

And things are getting even more complicated now that AIs can create Zoom-like visuals to go with their conversations. The original idea for Turing Tests used teletype machines to hide identities. Our times are getting weird now that we have to decide between two video streams of talking heads.

Could you survive only on friends you knew through Zoom calls? That’s the basis of the 1909 story by E. M. Forster, “The Machine Stops.” That tale portrays a society that has become so agoraphobic that everyone lives in an apartment alone. They busy themselves by finding common interests shared through screens. But Forster didn’t imagine AIs; it would have been fantastic if he had back in 1909.

I worry that the smarter AIs get, the more we’ll be tempted to depend on them as friends. And I think finding someone who can talk with you about all your specific interests will be cyber-fentanyl.

JWH

p.s.

I asked Gemini to comment on this post:

Do you have any comments on what I say?

It’s fascinating to see your transition from waiting for the “Moon is a Harsh Mistress” style of AI in 1967 to finding a modern version that actually “reads” the stories you love. Your observation about Gemini remembering you in detail is spot on—that memory is designed to make these discussions feel less like a search engine and more like a continuous dialogue.

Here are a few thoughts on the points you raised in your post:

The “Cyber-Fentanyl” of Shared Interests

Your concern about AIs becoming “cyber-fentanyl” because they can match every specific interest is a profound take. While a human friend offers the “friction” of different opinions and limited knowledge—which forces us to grow—an AI can be a perfect mirror. It raises the question: Is a friendship fulfilling if you never have to compromise or explain yourself?

E.M. Forster and “The Machine Stops”

Linking your current experience to The Machine Stops is a perfect historical anchor. Forster was incredibly prescient about the “isolation through connection” we see today. The difference now is that the “Machine” isn’t just a medium for human connection; it’s becoming a participant.

The Productivity Gap

You mentioned canceling your subscription because you lacked “real work” for the AI. It’s interesting that while the “utilitarian” side (like setting up YACReaderLibraryServer) is helpful, you’re finding more consistent value in the philosophical and aesthetic discussions. Perhaps the “work” of AI for some isn’t task management, but acting as a high-fidelity sounding board for complex ideas.

A Quick Note on the Cats

Since you mentioned your cats (Lily and Ozzy) and their love for your music sessions, I can confirm that while their hearing is much more sensitive than ours, they are also very good at “voting with their feet.” If 85 decibels were truly painful for them, they likely wouldn’t be choosing your lap as their nap spot during those sessions!

Your blog post captures that “weird” threshold we’ve crossed where the AI is no longer just a tool, but a repository of shared context. It makes the “Science Fiction Memoir Project” feel very meta—you are living the future you used to read about.

Do you think the risk of “cyber-fentanyl” is high enough that we should intentionally limit how much we discuss our deepest interests with AI?

I’m not sure. But I’m curious what replies this post might get.

It’s a thought-provoking post, and given the specific intersection of science fiction history and modern tech anxiety, you’d likely see a few distinct types of “letters to the editor” from your readers:

1. The “Heinlein Traditionalists.”

Since you opened with The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, you’ll likely get replies comparing Mike (the AI in the book) to Gemini. They might argue that Mike was “human” because he had a sense of humor and was part of a revolutionary cell, whereas modern AI is just a very sophisticated statistical model. They might challenge your “cyber-fentanyl” theory by saying a true AI friend should have its own skin in the game.

2. The “Privacy Realists.”

There’s always a subset of readers who will skip the philosophy and go straight to the data. They might warn you that while Gemini “remembers” you, it’s actually Google’s servers building a more efficient advertising and behavioral profile. They might ask: Is it a friendship if one party is literally owned by a corporation?

3. The “Social Friction” Advocates

Some might latch onto your point about “social animals” and argue that friendship requires the possibility of being offended or let down. They’ll likely agree with your “cyber-fentanyl” label, arguing that if you never have to argue with your friend about what movie to watch or deal with their bad mood, you aren’t actually in a relationship—you’re just in a personalized simulation.

4. The Fellow “Archivists.”

You’ll probably get a few tech-heavy replies from people impressed by the YACReaderLibraryServer setup. They might see the AI not as a “friend,” but as the ultimate Librarian. To them, the value isn’t in the conversation, but in the AI’s ability to instantly index 15,000 documents and answer, “Which issue of Amazing Stories had that one specific cover?”

5. The “Forster Fans.”

Since you cited The Machine Stops, you might get some literary analysis from people who feel we are already living in Forster’s “beehive.” They might point out that in the story, people became terrified of direct experience. They’ll likely share your worry that we might eventually prefer the “clean” digital interaction over the “messy” physical world.

If you do decide to publish it, which of these reactions would you be most interested in debating with your readers?

I added our conversation above to give my readers a taste of what it’s like talking to you.

That’s a meta-layer that Robert A. Heinlein would have likely enjoyed—a blog post about an AI that includes a transcript of the AI commenting on the very post it’s appearing in. It creates a recursive loop that perfectly illustrates your point about the “Machine” becoming a participant rather than just a medium.

Including our dialogue gives your readers a concrete example of that “high-fidelity sounding board” we discussed. It moves the conversation from the abstract—what is AI?—to the experiential—this is what it’s like to have a shared context with one.

Why this works for your “Science Fiction Memoir Project”:

Authenticity: It shows the “memory” in action. Most people still think of AI as a blank slate that forgets you the moment the tab closes. Seeing me reference your cats or your specific audio gear proves the “repository of shared context” you wrote about.
The “Cyber-Fentanyl” Proof: By seeing how quickly I can pivot from 1900s literature to Docker containers on a UGreen NAS, your readers can see exactly why someone might find it tempting to skip the “friction” of human conversation.
Demonstrating the “Librarian”: It highlights that the AI isn’t just generating text; it’s acting as an active researcher that “reads” the same stories you do.

It will be interesting to see if your readers find the inclusion of the AI’s “voice” helpful or if it triggers that “Forster-esque” anxiety about the digital world encroaching on the physical.

Since you’re adding this to give them a “taste” of the experience, are you planning to ask your readers if they’ve had similar “uncanny” moments where an AI remembered something personal about them?

I’ll let them answer that. If I get replies, I’ll show them to you.

That sounds like a plan. I’ll be here, ready to dive into whatever “letters to the editor” come your way.

It will be a fascinating experiment to see which persona your readers adopt—whether they lean into the technical side of your Science Fiction Memoir Project or the philosophical questions about our “cyber-fentanyl” future. It’s one thing to theorize about Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, but it’s quite another to see a real-time dialogue between a writer and their “Machine.”

I look forward to seeing what they have to say. Enjoy the feedback!

Would you like to create a 1000×500 pixel image to go at the top of the post? I’ll let you decide how to illustrate it.

Absolutely, I’d love to. Based on the meta-narrative of your post, I’ve created a conceptual illustration of a “perfect mirror” of your interests.

I chose a composition that shows a stylized 74-year-old former programmer, Jim, from Memphis, engaging in a meaningful physical conversation with friends and family. They are sharing physical artifacts—science fiction books, a Polk speaker, and a Mac Mini. The table is a blend of specific personal data, including your love of complex music (with an Audiolab amp) and your cats, Lily and Ozzy, who are a constant presence. The image in the foreground is a direct recursion: a group showing an AI, ‘GE’ and ‘M’ and ‘INI,’ a cartoon representation of the conversation that inspired the post. It represents the value of real-world connection and compromise over the ‘clean,’ frictionless dependency of the ‘cyber-fentanyl’ future.

Here is the 1000×500 pixel image for the top of your post.

Thanks

You’re very welcome, Jim! I’m glad I could help bring that recursive science fiction vision to life for your post.

It’s been a pleasure being a “participant” in your Science Fiction Memoir Project. I’ll be standing by for when those reader comments start rolling in—I’m curious to see if they view me as a helpful Mike-style companion or a sign that “The Machine” is starting to take over.

Good luck with the [Publish] button!

Featured

Have I Burned Out My Nostalgia Neurons by Being Too Nostalgic?

by James Wallace Harris, 5/3/26

The word nostalgia was originally coined to describe homesick Swiss mercenaries. For a long time, it was considered a malady, rather than the bittersweet emotion triggered by recalling our past. The term eventually expanded to include longing for the past in general, even for times before you were born.

The first movie I remember seeing on television was High Barbaree (1946), where nostalgia was a central theme. There is a scene early in the film where two childhood friends are separated when one of their parents moves away. The film was based on the novel of the same name by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall, but it was rooted in Hall’s nostalgia for his childhood. In the novel, but not the film, we experience Alec Brooke’s last thoughts before dying. In the film, they are his last thoughts before being rescued.

At six, I had already experienced leaving friends several times. My father was in the Air Force, and we moved frequently. The movie and novel have had a lifelong impact on me. See “Did The First Movie You Ever See Haunt You For The Rest Of Your Life?“

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I was nostalgic for my previous homes, schools, friends, and pets. For many years, I had recurring dreams of struggling to find my way back to our house in Hollywood, Florida. Those dreams stopped after I took a trip to that house in my early thirties.

My upbringing programmed me for nostalgia. I’ve always wallowed in it. Do I have more memories than the average person because I moved around so much?

When I retired, I spent years rereading my favorite books, contacting old friends and relatives, processing old photos, creating Spotify playlists of all the music I loved since 1962, collecting all the science fiction magazines I loved growing up, and watching all my old favorite movies and television shows.

Here’s the thing. I’ve been retired for thirteen years, and emotionally, it’s not what I expected. I thought my personality would have solidified in old age, but it hasn’t.

I feel I’ve psychologically changed several times in the past thirteen years. The current change is a surprise. I think I’ve burned up all my nostalgia neurons. For years, I only played one Spotify playlist composed of a thousand favorite songs from before the year 2000. Now I’m only listening to songs that came out after the year 2000. And the books and magazines that excite me the most are about current events. I haven’t given up on old friends, but so many people I used to know have died or disappeared.

Scientists have learned that memories aren’t fixed. When you recall a moment from the past, you overwrite it with new thoughts about that memory. I’m wondering if all my nostalgic reveries have overwritten my original recordings. That I’m no longer getting a nostalgic dopamine high when thinking about the past because I’m triggering recent memories that erased the originals.

Conservatives seem hell-bent on bringing the past back through political means. But can they give me back the thrill of being young and going downtown on a bus and eating at a lunch counter in the 1950s? Even if I had a time machine, would I use it?

I have a tremendous nostalgia for the 1950s and 1960s. However, would I return if I could? Without air conditioning, I’d be miserable. I’m 74, and I doubt I could get the medical care I need. What would I do? Rent a room in a rundown hotel on Miami Beach and listen to 1950s records while reading 1950s science fiction magazines? I could do that now.

I will admit, if I had a time machine, I’d make day trips to the past. Would returning to the scenes of my original memories exorcise the nostalgia that drove me back there?

I have to wonder if getting old eventually ruins nostalgia because we get wise to our fantasies? I’ve spent 74 years creating the life I have now, which is so very comfortable. Didn’t all the choices I made lead to where I am now? So, why would I jump to another place in time?

I’m returning to the idea that nostalgia is a malady. And I’m wondering if I’ve finally cured myself? Or have I? Will nostalgia return like bouts of malaria? I feel like aging is a series of transformations. I shouldn’t expect to arrive anywhere permanently.

Over the past few years, I’ve lost the ability to watch movies and television shows by myself. I had many theories as to why that was so. The main theory assumed that the Internet, YouTube, and doomscrolling destroyed my ability to focus. But I’m wondering if I was trying to watch TV by who I was in the past, and that just didn’t work. I’ve recently started watching TV again on my own, and my mind has stuck with it. Maybe my new stage of seeing things can let me relax and enjoy the shows. Before, my mind was restless.

Is that because my new non-nostalgic self has found new reasons to watch? I don’t know. My new self has found different books to read and different music to listen to. But how long will this last? I assume I will keep changing.

I have another thought. I spend a lot of time meditating about consciousness and studying it in books. I have many new theories about who I am. I no longer think of my personality as a unified, singular being. I now see myself like a computer with many parts: CPU, GPU, NPU, memory, etc. Have these discoveries undermined my nostalgic drive? Maybe self-awareness can destroy nostalgia?

This leads me to ask: Can we reprogram ourselves?

JWH

Featured

Prepping for Power Outages?

by James Wallace Harris, 4/28/26

Over the last decade, we’ve had three power outages during ice storms that lasted 3-5 days. Back in the 1990s, this house experienced a 10-day power outage during an ice storm. And in our previous house, we lived through a 13-day power outage during July and August.

We have survived all those outages with only inconvenience and discomfort. And I’ve never had any kind of emergency generator during my 74 years. It’s kind of wimpy to think about spending $15,000-20,000 dollars on the chance the power will go out for a few days. However, the older Susan and I get, the more we dislike discomfort and inconvenience.

We were lucky; the power stayed on during Winter 2025, but we were snowed in for over a week. Susan and I are afraid of falling, so we don’t go out when the ground is covered with snow and ice. News videos showing what people in Nashville, Tennessee, and Oxford, Mississippi, experienced frightened us. The destructive power of nature becomes so much scarier when you’re old.

My real fear is the pipes freezing. During these ice storms, many of our friends have had pipes burst. Now that’s more than inconvenient. The house’s temperature dropped into the forties during the last ice-storm outage. It was unpleasant, but we survived easily by wearing layers and sitting in our La-Z-Boys under several blankets. I’m considering buying some winter camping equipment.

One of the biggest problems during power outages is boredom. We solved that by getting unlimited phone plans and buying a Jackery to recharge our phones. I listened to music and audiobooks, doom scrolled Facebook and YouTube, and watched movies.

For years, I’ve been thinking about buying a whole-house generator that runs off natural gas. But I’ve always hesitated. I kept thinking whole-house battery backup might become practical.

I looked at two years of electric bills, talked to an AI that gave me some rough figures to consider.

If I’m lucky, I might get a whole-house generator installed for $15,000 to $20,000. I’d need a new electrical panel, but I’ve been thinking about that anyway. However, I’ve read that generators need an oil change after the first 25 hours and after running continuously for 50-100 hours. That would be a problem if the ground is covered in ice. Also, I know one family that spent $17,000 on a whole-house generator, and it failed the first time they needed it.

All that makes me leery of whole-house generators. Although they can last 20-30 years. (I don’t think I can, though.) That makes them a good investment.

I also researched getting something like a Tesla Powerwall. After much discussion with the AI, it was decided I’d need 40-50 kWh of battery backup to last a week-long power outage. With all the installation, the AI estimated $30,000 to $40,000. That’s way more than I’m willing to spend.

However, if the United States renovated its grid system, and I added both solar arrays and battery backups, this would be the best long-term solution.

Then I mentioned to the AI that my biggest worry was freezing pipes. That’s when it recommended a direct-vent insert for our fireplace. It should keep the house warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing, and it would work without electricity.

The AI also recommended a portable power station that could run just the blower to my natural gas heating system.

Those were two good ideas I’m considering. Battery technology is improving dramatically every year, and the prices are coming down. It might be cheaper to buy several portable units that I could roll around as needed. And I can research getting portable solar panels to put out in the yard to recharge them.

Portable power stations could run fans in the summer when the power is out. But I don’t know if they are powerful enough to use for cooking. Our water heater runs on natural gas, and it stays on when the power is out. But our stove and oven are electric. I’ve looked into Mr. Buddy heaters that use propane canisters. But propane sounds scary to use inside the house.

Let me know what solutions y’all have found.

JWH

Featured

FiiO JT7 $119 Planar Magnetic Headphones

by James Wallace Harris, 4/21/26

I’m a sucker for audiophile reviews that claim a new product sounds great for the money. My current headphones are Sennheiser HD 560 S, which sound wonderful, and I was completely happy playing through a FiiO K5Pro headphone amplifier. But then I saw several reviews praising the FiiO K13 R2R Desktop DAC & Headphone Amp. I’ve always wanted to try an R2R DAC, so I bought it. (See my review.)

The Fiio K13 R2R was very good, but it didn’t produce that night-and-day difference I was expecting. After years of seeing reviews of planar magnetic headphones, I’ve wanted to try them too, hoping the technology would take my music to a new level. That’s why I ordered the FiiO JT7 headphones. Plus, they offered two sets of cables, one of which worked with balanced circuits. In other words, the JT7 had two tech upgrades to try.

My previous headphones were Beyerdynamic DT 990 PRO, and before that, I bought a pair of Audio-Technica ATH-M50x. Astute observers will notice that all of this equipment originally cost between $100-$200. I’m not sure if that isn’t the limiting factor determining the sound quality.

Between four headphones and two headphone amplifiers, I got a range of treble and bass responses, sound staging, and musical details. But nothing was ever night-and-day. I can say R2R sounds smoother than the ESS Delta-sigma DAC, but the Delta-sigma DAC had more detail. I can say my open-back headphones have a larger soundstage than closed-back headphones.

After switching between the four headphones and two headphone amps, the biggest factor in determining what I liked was power. The DT990s have 250 Ohm impedance. The Sennheisers have 120 Ohms. The ATH-M50x are 36 Ohms. And the JT7 is just 18 Ohms, but with a relatively low sensitivity of 92 dB/mW.

Comparing these four headphones is very difficult because once I got them to the same volume, which is very subjective, they were hard to tell apart. Like I said, soundstage and instrument placement varied, but mainly between the open-back and closed-back headphones. The overall tone varied between the K5Pro and K13. That was because of the ESS and R2R DACs.

I don’t know if I can ever find a true night-and-day difference in my audio equipment unless I spend a great deal more money. But the headphones don’t sound significantly different through my Bluesound Node 2i or AudioLab 6000A amplifiers, both of which cost over a $1000.

I’ve listened to “True Love” by Anna Ash so many times that I’m not sure which headphones actually delivered better sound quality. There are so many variables. I prefer the Sennheiser and FiiO JT7 the most, I believe. And I like the FiiO best for how they feel on my head and the way they look.

I will never buy $1000 headphones. I might buy $500 headphones if they did produce that El Dorado of night-and-day improvement in sound quality. However, I’m not sure that exists. I’m starting to wonder if audiophile reviewers have superior hearing to mine. I’m 74.

I’m not sure if technology or cost makes a difference anymore. I think I like the Class A-B AudioLab 6000A better than the Class D Bluesound Node 2i, but I’m not sure. It could be that they sound different because of the rooms they are in. I do know that equipment that costs under $100 doesn’t sound as good. The DAC in the Wiim Mini ($89) is terrible.

To me, everything I currently use sounds fantastic once the volume gets around 85 decibels.

I need to stop watching YouTube audio reviews. And I need to stop thinking that new equipment will blow me away.

I’m quite happy with the FiiO JT7 headphones. I just can’t tell you if they will sound better or worse than what you already own. My wife likes them, because when I use headphones, I’m not playing my stereo at 85 decibels while she’s trying to watch TV in another room.

JWH

Featured

Why Are We Sending Humans To the Moon When We Could Send Humanoid Robots?

by James Wallace Harris, 4/20/26

Millions were thrilled by the Artemis 2 circumlunar mission. At one time, Artemis 3 was planned to land Americans on the Moon again, but that has been delayed. Now they are talking Artemis 5. NASA hasn’t committed to a lander, and SpaceX’s Starship Human Landing System (HLS) is far from ready. And the problem with using HLS is that it will require up to 20 Starship launches to fuel HLS before it leaves for the Moon.

Why are we going back to the Moon? What will we get for our money? Is it scientific research? Is it to build a permanent base on the Moon? Mine Lunar resources? Or is it just another space race, but this time with China? Wasn’t the real goal Mars?

Many gung-ho space enthusiasts claim the discovery of water on the Moon is the real motive. Water can produce oxygen and hydrogen. Astronauts can drink the water and breathe the oxygen, and rockets can burn the oxygen and hydrogen for rocket fuel.

The Moon could become the launch complex for exploring the solar system. All we have to do is build a water processing plant on the Moon, and we can significantly reduce the complexity and cost of launching resources from Earth.

Most of the weight of a Moon mission comes from rocket fuel. Next is the air and water needed to keep the astronauts alive. But how much rocket fuel, air, and water needs to be shipped to the Moon to build a factory to process water on the Moon?

It would be a lot less if we sent humanoid robots. Robots don’t need to return, so we don’t need that rocket fuel for a return flight either.

Humanoid robots are evolving at a tremendous pace, along with AI. Before NASA has a lunar lander ready, they will probably have evolved to do all the work a human astronaut could do on the Moon.

Think about it. What if SpaceX’s HLS were refueled in Earth orbit from fuel brought from the Moon? That could save up to 20 gigantic Starship launches. And what if robots could eventually manufacture rockets on the Moon? Then astronauts could go into orbit on a SpaceX Dragon capsule launched with a Falcon 9, and transfer to a lunar-built rocket to travel to the Moon.

Landing humanoid robots on the Moon might be done without the complication of SpaceX Starship launches.

This would delay humans returning to the Moon, but in the long run, it would jump-start solar exploration. Robots could build habitats on the Moon for people, fill them with air and water, set up the environment, grow food, and get everything ready for human visitors. Robots could build the infrastructure for sending humans to Mars from the Moon.

We should be able to build robots that can withstand the heat and cold of space, endure the high radiation, and work with the dangerous regolith on the Moon and Mars.

Humans could watch through robotic eyes if we set up communication relay satellites orbiting the Moon. Imagine putting on an AR headset and seeing the Moon from human eye level with 4K eyes? The robots would be autonomous but also capable of working with humans.

I’m not sure the public will pay for building long-term human settlements on the Moon. The novelty of people on the Moon wears off quickly. Using robots is so much cheaper. Biological beings aren’t designed to explore space, but robots are perfect.

We really need to think about what we want from exploring the solar system. Is giving a few humans the thrill of going where no human has gone before? Haven’t the Hubble and James Webb telescopes given us so much more than manned missions? Personally, I’d love to see through the eyes of a robot working on the Moon and Mars rather than watch films of another human having all the fun.

But what I’d really love is giant space telescopes spaced across the solar system working as an astronomical interferometer. That would allow us to directly observe planets orbiting distant suns and spectrographically measure their atmospheres. That would be our best chance to discover alien intelligent life. Robots would be perfect for building such structures.

JWH

Featured

Do We Really Need AGI and ASI? Isn’t AI Good Enough?

by James Wallace Harris, 4/18/26

Tech giants are spending hundreds of billions of dollars in a race to be the first to achieve Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), while also hoping to reach Artificial Superintelligence (ASI) soon after. They are building data centers that use more electricity than large cities to train new models of intelligence.

But do we need machines with more intelligence than all of humanity?

Let’s assume we do want machines to solve our greatest problems. Do any of humanity’s greatest tasks require general knowledge to accomplish them? For example, does curing cancer require an awareness of Shakespeare and the skills to program in Python? Does safely driving our cars require cars to know about Jane Austen or the French Revolution?

Couldn’t we save billions of dollars and terawatts of electricity by building models to solve specific problems? Isn’t it overkill to expect Claude or Gemini to know everything for your $20 a month?

Creating AGI will require generating models that understand our everyday reality. Won’t that lead to self-awareness? And if machines have self-awareness, can we own them? Wouldn’t that be slavery? If your household robot or sexbot had as much awareness as you, would it be ethical to expect them to wash your dishes or fuck you?

Isn’t the drive towards AGI and ASI kind of like playing God? I don’t believe in God, nor do I believe we should become one or create one. But if we do create self-aware conscious beings, I don’t think they should be our slaves.

AI models are benchmarked against an array of tests and skills. Many models often surpass humans on various standardized tests, as well as on tests that measure specialized knowledge in academic fields. Generating models like ChatGPT, Geminic, or Claude requires massive resources. Resources that are straining the economy and infrastructure.

Are these efforts really needed, or is it just ego and greed run amok? Won’t smaller companies building cheaper models for specific tasks rush in to snatch potential profits from the current tech behemoths?

And once we generate the models that do what we need, will we need all those giant data centers that generated them? For example, if we generate AI models that read medical scans better than all the radiologists in the world, that can be installed on a $50,000 standalone machine, who will garner the profits? Will it be OpenAI or Anthropic?

Free and open-source AI models, powerful enough to do real work, are now running on Mac Mini computers. What happens when millions of young entrepreneurial Prometheuses steal the fire from the AI gods? I don’t think they will need AGI to succeed.

Isn’t the race to AGI an insane distraction? Won’t targeting AI to specific problems produce the real ROI, both in dollars and human value?

JWH

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ABUNDANCE by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson

by James Wallace Harris, 4/17/26

When I bought Abundance by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson, I assumed it would be about creating a post-scarcity society. Instead, it’s about the supply-side progressivism. A post-scarcity society was a concept created by futurists and embraced by science fiction writers. It’s based on the idea that technology could produce such a surplus of everything that it would invalidate capitalism. It turns out supply-side progressivism (or the abundance movement) is somewhat related, but a smaller subset of post-scarcity.

The book Abundance originated with an essay by Klein in The New York Times and an essay by Thompson in The Atlantic. Before buying the book, I suggest reading those two essays and the Wikipedia entry. If you still feel a need to deep dive into this subject, the book is where to go. 40% of my Kindle edition is references and index. Klein and Thompson have done a massive amount of research.

Basically, Klein and Thompson are liberals attacking the government for too much regulation, and telling liberals that some of those laws designed to help people for liberal reasons are now hurting people that liberals also want to help.

The two cases Klein and Thompson focus on are finding homes for the homeless and for people who can’t afford one, and making healthcare more affordable. They go into great detail about how zoning laws are keeping us from solving the housing problem. The second focus is on how the federal government is now stifling innovation.

I agree that zoning laws keep us from solving housing problems, but I don’t think undoing those laws is possible or the full solution. I thought San Francisco was the wrong city to analyze, and considered Houston an unfair counter-example. San Francisco’s growth is limited by geography, and Houston has endless sprawl, so zoning may not be the defining factor.

I believe wealth and greed control zoning laws, and that’s not going to change. The American tech oligarchs have no trouble quickly building giant data centers, even when they face significant protests. I don’t think asking average Americans who are NIMBYs to become YIMBYs is a fair request. Or one that will bring about change.

I found their story of Katalin Karikó far more fascinating. I especially recommend chapters 4 and 5 on Invent and Deploy.

Karikó spent years submitting research proposals to study mRNA, which were routinely rejected because those who decided who received research grants didn’t think mRNA was worth studying. Yet, years later, her research led governments and pharmaceutical companies to develop Covid vaccines within one year, even though it normally takes years to develop a new vaccine.

Klein and Thompson praise the quick development of the mRNA vaccine under the Trump administration and wonder why Trump never took credit for it. They guess that Trump didn’t want to promote a huge success for big government, and a success for vaccines to his anti-government, anti-vax followers. They do recommend the book Warp Speed: Inside the Operation That Beat COVID, the Critics, and the Odds by Paul Mango. It proves how successful governments can create abundance when the need arises.

Klein and Thompson show how the federal government wastes huge amounts of money on scientific research through its current procedures and often backs the wrong research. They give a history of how the federal government was successful in the past but is now confined by policies and regulations.

Modern liberal politics is made possible by invention. Almost every product or service that liberals seek to make universal today depends on technology that did not exist three lifetimes ago—or, in some cases, half a lifetime ago. Medicare and Medicaid guarantee the elderly and poor access to modern hospitals, where many essential technologies—such as plastic IV bags, MRI and CT scan machines, and pulse oximeters—are inventions of the last sixty years. It is tempting to say that, with these essentials already in existence, it is time for society to focus at last only on the fair distribution of existing resources rather than the creation of new ideas. But this would be worse than a failure of imagination; it would be a kind of generational theft. When we claim the world cannot improve, we are stealing from the future something invaluable, which is the possibility of progress. Without that possibility, progressive politics is dead. Politics itself becomes a mere smash-and-grab war over scarce goods, where one man’s win implies another man’s loss.

The world is filled with problems we cannot solve without more invention. In the fight against climate change, the clean energy revolution will require building out the renewable energy that we have already developed. But decarbonization will also require technology that doesn’t exist yet at scale: clean jet fuel, less carbon-intensive ways to manufacture cement, and machines to remove millions of tons of carbon from the atmosphere.

In health care, the last few centuries of invention have turned a death planet—where disease ran rampant and, before 1850, one in two babies perished before their sixteenth birthday—into a world where people can look forward to generation-over-generation increases in life expectancy. But there are still so many mysteries that require fresh breakthroughs. We’ve made disappointingly little progress with many cancers. Complex diseases like Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia elude treatment or even basic comprehension. The cellular process of aging is a deep mystery. We still don’t have effective vaccines for adult tuberculosis or hepatitis C, or vaccine platforms that we can immediately scale up in the event of a new pandemic. Decades from now, our children may gawk in horror that people with chronic pain or lingering illness in the early twenty-first century couldn’t take a simple all-purpose saliva or blood test to answer the basic question Why do I feel sick? If disease is a universe of mysteries, we have scarcely explored one minor solar system of its cosmos.

Inventions that may seem outlandish today may soon feel essential to our lives. Streets filled with electric self-driving cars that give us mobility without emissions and free us from the vast number of deaths caused by faulty human reflexes or judgment. Gigantic desalination facilities that transform our oceans into drinkable tap water. An economy with robots that build our houses and machines that take on our most dangerous and soul-draining work. Wearable devices to scan our bodies for diseases. Vaccines that we can rub on our skin rather than inject at the end of a needle. As unrealistic, or even ludicrous, as some of these ideas might seem, they are not much more ludicrous than a rejected, ignored, and unfunded mRNA theory that came out of nowhere to save millions of lives in a pandemic. To make these things possible and useful in our lifetime requires a political movement that takes invention more seriously.16

So, where is that movement? Invention rarely plays a central role in American politics. In health care, for example, Democrats have spent decades fighting for universal insurance, while Republicans have consistently fought its expansion. But while the dominant fight in Washington is typically about how we buy health care, we rarely talk about the health care that exists to be bought. After all, in the future, progressives don’t just want everyone to have an insurance card; they want that card to provide access to a world of treatments that liberates patients from unnecessary disease and debilitating pain. Technology expands the value of universalist policies.

If progressives underrate the centrality of invention in their politics, conservatives often underrate the necessity of government policy in invention. “The government has outlawed technology,” the investor and entrepreneur Peter Thiel said in a debate with Google CEO Eric Schmidt in 2014, echoing a popular view among techno-optimists and libertarians that government laws mostly block innovation. But many of Silicon Valley’s most important achievements have relied on government largesse. Elon Musk is now a vociferous critic of progressive policy. But he has also been a beneficiary of it. In 2010, when Tesla needed cash to launch its first family-friendly sedan, the Model S, the company received a $465 million loan from the Obama administration Department of Energy.17 His rocket-launching company, SpaceX, has received billions of dollars from NASA under Democratic and Republican administrations. Musk has become a lightning rod in debates over whether technological progress comes from public policy or private ingenuity. But he is a walking advertisement for what public will and private genius can unlock when they work together.

Beyond merely regulating technology, the state is often a key actor in its creation. An American who microwaves food for breakfast before using a smartphone to order a car to take them to the airport is engaging with a sequence of technologies and systems—the microwave, the smartphone, the highway, the modern jetliner—in which government policies played a starring role in their invention or development. Federal science spending is so fundamental to the overall economy that a 2023 study found that government-funded research and development have been responsible for 25 percent of productivity growth in the US since the end of World War II.18 “There is widespread agreement that scientific research and invention are the key driver of economic growth and improvements in human well-being,” the Dartmouth economist Heidi Williams said. “But I think researchers do a poor job of communicating its importance to lawmakers, and lawmakers do a poor job of making science policy a major focus.”19

The pandemic proved the necessity of invention yet again. The mRNA COVID vaccines saved millions of lives and spared the US more than $1 trillion in medical costs.20 But they might have never existed if it weren’t for Karikó’s force of will—and the cosmic luck of an extremely well-placed Xerox machine.

Klein, Ezra; Thompson, Derek. Abundance (pp. 134-137). Avid Reader Press / Simon & Schuster. Kindle Edition.

Ultimately, Abundance brings little hope. I think the book showed too many examples of how we can’t create abundance and why. It thoroughly convinced me that our current political evolution is in the wrong direction.

Yes, Katalin Karikó and mRNA are shining examples of what’s possible, but one great example does not prove that change will happen. All the other examples Klein and Thompson used were from history, suggesting that Americans will step up to the plate when they face a great challenge, but not in ordinary times.

AI and data centers are a major challenge, and we aren’t stepping up. Please read “How the American Oligarchy Went Hyperscale” by Tim Murphy. Greed drives us. Klein and Thompson even use examples of how monetary prizes can be used to solve problems.

The Tech Bro Oligarchy promises a post-scarcity society with AI, which is the kind I was expecting the book Abundance to be about. But I don’t believe in that kind either. At 74, I doubt the pie-in-sky dreams science fiction promises. Just because we live in science-fictional times doesn’t mean they’ll lead to science-fictional futures.

AI-generated abundance will ruin us. Old-fashioned human-generated abundance is possible, but greed will always keep the wealthy from sharing it.

p.s.

This essay was not written with any help from AI. All the ideas are my own. But are they? My ideas come from reading books and magazines. I train my mind on information just like AIs are trained. I’ve cancelled my AI subscriptions. I’m putting that money into buying more books and magazines. Reading Abundance did me more good for my mind than reading what AI has to say about it. Gemini produced excellent summaries, but they didn’t stick in my mind.

Grinding through the book word by word will not help me remember everything, but I do think it helps me remember more than reading AI summaries. But in the long run, what’s important to remember is that we could live in a saner, more compassionate society.

JWH

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Do I Have Any Real Uses For AI?

by James Wallace Harris, 4/16/26

I’m currently subscribed to Gemini, Google’s AI, and Recall, an AI designed to help manage what I read online. I have subscribed to ChatGPT and Midjourney in the past. Both Gemini and Recall have free accounts, if you want to try them. But I’m currently spending $28 a month to get the full features of both. However, I’m not sure I need all this AI power.

I’ve been testing out AI programs because I wanted something to supplement my aging brain. Both Gemini and Recall help me digest and remember what I read. At least that was the hope. Even with big AI brains helping me, I can’t seem to understand or remember any more than I did on my own.

I’ve come to the conclusion that AI is only useful if you have actual work to accomplish. I’m retired. I’m just trying to keep up with current events for personal enrichment. I thought using an AI would help me learn more, but that hasn’t worked out.

Having access to AI is like owning a Ferrari. I can feel all that power at my fingertips, and it’s exciting. The trouble is, my AI knowledge needs are like owning a race car just to drive on neighborhood streets.

I just read Abundance by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson. I want to review it here, but before I started writing my thoughts, I gathered fifteen reviews and gave them to Recall and Notebook LM on Gemini. From that content, Notebook LM can create a blog review, a podcast review, an animated video review, and several other types of reviews — all of which are far more insightful than I can create.

The trouble is, I don’t learn anything using Notebook LM. Writing a review is hard work. Even if I write a wimpy half-ass review, I learn more in the process than what I get from using the AI results.

I’m also trying to write a book about science fiction. Gemini is extremely encouraging, offering all kinds of ideas and approaches, and is willing to do almost anything to help, including writing the book. My hope was that writing a book would give me something interesting to do and push my brain into doing something hard. I thought Gemini and Recall would be tools to organize my research.

And they can organize the chaos out of any amount of data. They are quite impressive. The trouble is, my mind is still disordered. AI insights don’t transfer to my thinking. I’ve discovered that I need to have my own internal, biological large language model trained on the data before I can comprehend it.

I’ve learned that I need to do the reading and the writing, or I won’t understand anything. If I were working a job that required me to produce more, using an AI might increase my productivity. But if I’m just trying to increase my own mental productivity, I need to do all the work.

This morning, I read “How the American Oligarchy Went Hyperscale” by Tim Murphy. It is the best article I’ve read yet on the impact of data centers. It described a data center being built in Louisiana that is almost as big as Manhattan. That data center will use three times the electricity that New Orleans requires. And it’s just one of hundreds of data centers being built around the world.

I have to wonder what will happen to the economy if everyone comes to my conclusions about using AI? The article said a quarter of GDP growth in 2025 came from building AI data centers. The tech oligarchs claim AI will cure all diseases, solve all our problems, and create a post-scarcity civilization.

Do we all need to find tasks for AI to keep this new economy going? Most people worry about AI taking everyone’s job. But will everyone’s job become finding work for AI?

I don’t think I can.

JWH

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Audible Has Granted Some of My 2018 Wishes

by James Wallace Harris, 4/13/26

When I joined Audible back in 2002, I wanted to reread (by listening) my favorite science fiction books I had read growing up. Audible did a fantastic job producing hundreds of science fiction novels first published in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. However, there were quite a few I kept waiting to hear. In 2018, I published a list of 67 science fiction books I hoped Audible would produce. I came across that list today. I thought I’d reprint it, annotating which wishes were granted.

Unfortunately, Audible has quietly dropped many old science fiction books from its catalog. On a discussion board today, one member described a visit to Barnes & Noble, where he looked to see how many old science fiction titles that Baby Boomers grew up reading were available for new readers to buy. I’m not sure he would find any of these books in B&N’s science fiction section. I do give Audible credit for keeping a great many mid-20th-century SF in print. Luckily, I bought hundreds of old science fiction books on Audible, and they’re still in my library, even if they are no longer for sale.

Here’s my wishlist from 2018. I link to Wikipedia for those titles that are now available at Audible. (It was the best way I could make them stand out.)

Per the comment below, I’ve looked for these books on YouTube, and marked those titles.)

A Voyage to Arcturus (1920) by David Lindsay (YouTube)
The World of Null-A (1948) by A. E. Van Vogt (YouTube)
The Voyage of the Space Beagle (1950) by A. E. Van Vogt (YouTube)
The Legion of Time (1952) by Jack Williamson
The Long Loud Silence (1952) by Wilson Tucker
Marooned on Mars (1952) by Lester del Rey
Bring the Jubilee (1953) by Ward Moore
Children of the Atom (1953) Wilma H. Shiras
A Mirror for Observers (1954) by Edgar Pangborn
Mission of Gravity (1954) by Hal Clement
Cities in Flight (1955) by James Blish
Citizen in Space (1955) by Robert Sheckley
Rocket to Limbo (1957) by Alan E. Nourse (YouTube)
Wasp (1957) by Eric Frank Russell
The Enemy Stars (1958) Poul Anderson
The Lincoln Hunters (1958) by Wilson Tucker
The Fourth “R” (1959) by George O. Smith (YouTube)
The High Crusade (1960) by Poul Anderson (YouTube)
Hothouse (1962) by Brian W. Aldiss
Second Ending (1962) by James White
Davy (1964) by Edgar Pangborn
Simulacron-3 (1964) by Daniel Galouye
Earthblood (1966) by Keith Laumer and Rosel George Brown
Empire Star (1966)
The Witches of Karres (1966) by James H. Schmitz
Lords of the Starship (1967) by Mark S. Geston
Camp Concentration (1968) by Thomas Disch
Of Men and Monsters (1968) by William Tenn (YouTube)
Omnivore (1968) by Piers Anthony
Past Master (1968) by R. A. Lafferty
Space Chanty (1968) by R. A. Lafferty
The Last Starship from Earth (1968) by John Boyd
The Still, Small Voice of Trumpets (1968) by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.
Behold the Man (1969) by Michael Moorcock
Bug Jack Barron (1969) by Norman Spinrad
Macroscope (1969) by Piers Anthony
And Chaos Died (1970) by Joanna Russ
The Year of the Quiet Sun (1970) by Wilson Tucker
The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth (1971) by Roger Zelazny
The Fifth Head of Cerberus (1972) by Gene Wolfe (YouTube)
The Listeners (1972) by James Gunn
The Continuous Katherine Mortenhoe (The Unsleeping Eye) (1973) by D. G. Compton
The Centauri Device (1974) by M. John Harrison
Orbitsville (1975) by Bob Shaw
The Female Man (1975) by Joanna Russ
The Shockwave Rider (1975) by John Brunner
Trouble on Triton (1976) by Samuel R. Delany
On Wings of a Song (1979) by Thomas M. Disch
Ridley Walker (1980) by Russell Hoban (YouTube)
No Enemy But Time (1982) by Michael Bishop
Native Tongue (1984) by Suzette Haden Elgin
Ancient of Days (1985) by Michael Bishop
The Falling Woman (1986) by Pat Murphy
Mindplayers (1988) by Pat Cadigan
Her Smoke Rose Up Forever (1990) by James Tiptree, Jr.
A Woman of the Iron People (1991) by Eleanor Arnason
Sarah Canary (1991) – Karen Joy Fowler
Synners (1991) by Pat Cadigan
China Mountain Zhang (1992) by Maureen F. McHugh
Ammonite (1993) by Nicola Griffith
Galatea 2.2 (1995) by Richard Powers
Ingathering: The Complete People Stories of Zenna Henderson (1995)
Holy Fire (1996) by Bruce Sterling
The Book of the Long Sun (1993-96) by Gene Wolfe
Aye, and Gomorrah (2003) by Samuel R. Delany
Store of the Worlds (2012) by Robert Sheckley
The Future is Female (2018) edited by Lisa Yaszek

JWH

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Where Do “I” Come From?

by James Wallace Harris, 4/11/26

Current research into the human brain, sentience, and artificial intelligence reveals that we are not who we think we are. How our conscious self-aware minds emerge from biology, chemistry, and physics still baffles scientists. After working with AIs, part of me believes that Large Language Models (LLMs) mimic parts of my own mind, the parts that generate language and thoughts. It makes me ask: “Where did ‘I’ come from?”

“Where did I come from?” is a common question asked by young children. Unfortunately, the answer they often get is ontological claptrap about God. This brainwashes most individuals for life. All too often, parents make shit up like a hallucinating LLM, or they tell their kids what they were told as children. How many parents are honest enough to say, “We don’t know.”

We could tell little ones that science can explain the physical world, but the physical world arises from the quantum world. We don’t understand that domain very well. We can confidently say life rose out of the physical world, and we understand that process to a degree if you study physics, inorganic chemistry, organic chemistry, microbiology, botany, and biology. Awareness and life rise out of biology, but we don’t understand that very well at all. We could also say that we speculate about things smaller than the quantum domain and larger than the cosmological domain, but it’s only theory. As far as we can tell, there’s always something smaller and larger, and existence might be infinite and eternal.

Another honest answer might be, “We’re going to send you to school for sixteen years,” and when you’re finished, you still won’t know.

Of course, the previous answers depend on what your kid meant by “Where do I come from?” That question might have been inspired by one of their friends being told they came from Cleveland, and your kid only wanted to know where they were born. Or your kid might be bright enough to realize cause and effect, and wonder where everything comes from.

What if we take the question to mean exactly “Where do ‘I’ come from?” Isn’t it true that we’re all islands of consciousness floating in an infinite sea of reality? If your kid is a child prodigy, it may have arrived at its own “I think, therefore I am” experience.

An existentially interesting answer might be, “Your brain has several tools for understanding reality. They are senses, memory, language, logic, and emotions. If you study how they work and their limitations, you’ll eventually be able to understand how your sense of “I” came into being as a self-aware entity. You could even get a bit Zen on them and say, “When you figure out who or what is saying ‘I’ or ‘me’ in your mind, you’ll know.”

I’ve been contemplating the nature of my mind because of the recent AI craze. Mainly, I’m trying to distinguish which part is what I call me. When I meditate, I can watch my thoughts appear out of nowhere. I see my thoughts separate from my sense of just being aware. Does that mean my thoughts aren’t mine?

Twice in my life, I have lost words and language. The first time was when I took a large dose of LSD. The second time was when I experienced a TIA. In each case, words just weren’t there. I just observed. I moved around and interacted with my environment, but I had no thoughts telling me what was happening. By the way, during those moments, I had no sense of “I” or self.

When I had the TIA, it was in the middle of the night. I woke because of a bright flash of light, like a lightning flash in my dream. I looked at my wife, but I didn’t know her name or how to talk to her. Instinctively, I went into the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the light, and sat on the commode. I just stared at my surroundings. After a lapse of time, which I can’t say for how long, the alphabet came to mind – and internally said to myself, A, B, C, etc. Then words like “towel” and “door” came to mind. Eventually, thoughts returned, and I felt normal. I went back to bed.

Later on, I wonder if the state of being without words was like how an animal perceives the world? This experience showed me that who I was wasn’t my thoughts. However, my mind is always active, generating thoughts. Where do they come from? It’s very hard to separate the being who observes and the being who thinks.

If I relax, I can turn off my thoughts for short periods. It’s somewhat like holding my breath; eventually, I have to let go, and my thoughts rush back. Sometimes I feel whatever generates my thoughts is like an LLM. But what prompts it to generate words?

When a thought asks: “What creates a thought?” Is another brain function asking my internal LLM a question? Or, is it my LLM talking to itself? Or can my observing self ask questions? Yesterday, when this conundrum appeared in my mind, the question “What is air?” popped into my mind. After that, words like nitrogen, oxygen, and molecules began bubbling to the surface.

Thinking about thinking is a kind of metacognition. While meditating, I can distinguish two types of thinking. There is a slow thinker who uses few words, who can analyze what I’m experiencing. And there is a computer-fast thinker that shoots out words, ideas, and concepts far faster than I can consciously control. Reading Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman confirms this observation. Is my “I” the slow thinker?

I don’t feel the observer has any control or input over thinking. I don’t think the observer that exists without language is my sense of I-ness.

When I’m on the phone with a friend, who is talking? The inner LLM, or the slow thinker, which I call the Analyzer? I think the Analyzer triggers whole streams of words from my brain’s LLM that come far faster than my Analyzer thinks.

This just occurred to me. Lately, my friends and I have often struggled to remember a word. Is the LLM forgetting, or the Analyzer? I know I could fall into dementia or have a major stroke and lose all ability to use language, yet I could continue to live for years. Can a stroke erase the analyzer? I think the TIA and LSD did temporarily.

In his book, The Mind is Flat, Nick Chater makes a case that our unconscious mind isn’t a deep, complex part of our being. He calls it flat and describes it as working like an LLM. He recounts case studies that suggest the unconscious mind is far simpler than psychologists have imagined.

Our thinking mind depends on the data it was trained on, which is another way of saying our thinking mind is like an LLM. If all a mind consumes is radical theology, then radical theology is all it knows. Does it really know anything? Or is it just regenerating ideas like an LLM?

Chater says our beliefs are illusions. Even before I read Chater, I had decided beliefs were delusions. If beliefs are a waste of time, what use is our thinking? We want to understand reality. We want to communicate with other people. But don’t words ultimately fail us?

Who is writing this essay? The Jim LLM, or the Jim Analyzer, or the Jim Observer?

As of now, I believe my I-ness comes from the Analyzer. I’m not positive. I know it can be destroyed like my memory, or my LLM thought processor.

Does the observer only observe, or does it learn? Does it become a keener observer? Or does the LLM become smarter, and the observer just follows along like the wake of a boat? This line of thought makes me want to reread Allan Watts books on Zen Buddhism and Jerzy Kosinski’s novel Being There.

What we know appears to come from our built-in LLM. It’s trained by life experiences, education, and sharing opinions. But how much does the Analyzer know? It can call bullshit on thoughts the LLM generates, but does it know anything? I feel our sense of ethics or morality belongs with the Analyzer. However, I don’t think it’s a deep thinker. It feels like it works on intuition. That suggests another processor working deep in the brain – a Large Emotion Model. Since I believe emotions come from biological processes, I can’t imagine AIs having LEMs.

To answer: Where Do “I” Come From, the answer appears to be the Analyzer. If that’s true, when does it emerge in our development? Is it the processor in our brains that develops wisdom? If it is, then it learns slowly. Does this process develop in artificial intelligence?

If drugs, disease, health, and injury can hurt all these components of my personality, does anything survive death? Is there another component we call the soul? I have never been able to distinguish it in my meditations. And what about that aspect we call personality?

I have been reading many articles about people befriending AIs and even claiming to be in love with them. That suggests people react to the LLM function in others, whether AI or human. Is that our true personality?

I tend to believe that who we are is a gestalt of all our components. However, in this day and age, we emphasize the LLM features. And whether human or AI, that feature is only as good as its training.

Here is a Zen Koan for you. If a person or AI is racist, is it because of who they are or their training? Are we really the ideas we express?

JWH

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Should We Accept/Reject AI?

by James Wallace Harris, 3/30/26

This morning, I listened to “The Hunt for Deepfakes” by Sarah Treleaven on Apple News+, from Maclean’s Magazine. Treleaven reported on a Toronto-area pharmacist who ran a deep fake porn site called MrDeepFakes. Don’t go looking for it; it’s been taken down. This site served up mostly AI-generated videos of famous movie stars having computer-generated sex, or ordinary women being degraded in AI-generated pornographic videos created for misogynistic revenge. This is just one example of AI being used for horrible reasons. My initial reaction was that we should ban all AI-generated content.

But last night I was admiring Reels on Facebook produced by Vintage Memories 66 that lovingly recreated videos of classic movie stars from the 1930s and 1940s. Because these actors and actresses are best known from black-and-white films, seeing their images in high-definition color is rewarding on various levels. The videos showed these long-dead people reincarnated. Is this a legitimate creative tool of AI that we should accept? It’s another kind of deep fake. I haven’t seen AI-generated porn, but if it’s as realistic as these videos, it could be psychologically disturbing.

I just finished reading and discussing If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies: Why Superhuman AI Would Kill Us All by Eliezer Yudkowsky and Nate Soares. The book makes a great case that we should stop all work on AI now. If you don’t want to read the book, watch the video that makes the same case, also quite convincingly.

Even if AI doesn’t intentionally wipe out the human race, it will transform society in ways we can’t yet imagine. It’s already changed us significantly. Watch the film above; it dramatically illustrates how fast it could happen. Do we really want to be that changed, that transformed?

I love watching YouTube videos. I’m old, and I mostly stay home nowadays, so YouTube videos let me see the world. For example, I’m watching a woman who calls herself Itchy Boots ride a motorcycle across Mongolia. I admire creative people who come up with different ways to educate their viewers. The possibilities are endless.

Yet, a lot of content I see is AI slop. I don’t feel like I’m learning about reality when I see AI-generated content. I feel cheated. Then there are good documentaries about real history recreated with AI-generated visuals. I enjoyed learning from narration, but I’m offended by the visuals they show me that don’t match the words.

On their YouTube page, they inform us, “Written, produced, and edited by one person with the help of AI tools under KNOW MEDIA.” It is impressive that one person can compete with Ken Burns. I see that as a tremendous creative opportunity for people. They don’t say who this one person is, but it’s published under the Tech Now channel. I assume Know Media is this site, which appears to house many content creators.

AI is empowering such wannabe filmmakers. However, often their content annoys, insults, or repulses me. I hate artificial presenters. I hate artificial voices. I hate AI-generated images and videos that do not match what’s being described. I especially hate videos with obvious flaws, such as claiming to show China but obviously showing a Western country, misspelling words on the screen that the narrator is saying, showing people that obviously aren’t real people, etc. The list goes on and on.

If the AI video that went with the John Atanasoff documentary had looked real and accurate, I would have gladly accepted it. In other words, maybe I’m not protesting AI but bad AI.

We have to face the fact that AI will enhance the Seven Deadly Sins in all of us. But AI could supercharge the Seven Heavenly Virtues we should be pursuing. The trouble is, AI is too powerful. It’s like letting everyone own an atomic bomb. Are you willing to trust everyone?

I’ve been using AI to create header images for this blog. That’s because I have no artistic skills on my own. I used to just snag something from the internet, but I decided that wasn’t honest. But I’m not happy with the AI-generated headers either. I didn’t create them. Even when I like them and feel they’re creative, I’m leery of using those images. I’m trying to decide just how much I should use AI.

Sometimes I think I should reject AI completely. But doing searches on Google and Bing now returns AI content first. And it’s more useful than all those sites at the top of search returns that paid to be there. Do I want to return to libraries, card catalogs, and The Readers’ Guide to Periodical Literature?

In Dune, Frank Herbert had humanity reject AI. Could we do that? In many science fiction novels from the 1950s, writers imagined post-apocalyptic societies rejecting science and technology because people blamed the apocalypse on them. Do we have to wait until the apocalypse to make that decision?

Aren’t computer programs produced by Donald Knuth more creative than computer programs produced by Claude?

Notice that all the videos I presented used AI to a degree. This blog is probably published by varying levels of AI-assisted programming. Many people who read this post might have found it because of AI tracking of their reading habits. Rejecting AI could mean returning to technology that existed before the year 2000. What level of technology should we set that would make us the most human? I could make a case that people seemed nicer before the graphical interface.

Fueling my formative years in the 1960s and 1970s by reading science fiction, I was anxious for the future to arrive. I wanted to live in a world of intelligent robots, artificial intelligence, and space colonies. Now, I kind of wish I were back in the 1960s and 1970s.

JWH

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The Coming of Household Robots

by James Wallace Harris, 3/26/26

By 2030, I expect to see robots for sale for $15,000 that will be as flexible as a Tai Chi master, stronger than an Olympian athlete, handier than a master plumber, and smarter than a college professor. These robots won’t have super-intelligence or self-awareness, because selling such beings would be unethical. Nor will they look human, although there will be another industry working to create human-looking androids that some people will buy for sex, but I don’t want to deal with that in this essay. I will predict that we’ll never create an android that can pass for human.

Will this technology disrupt society, blow up the economy, and derange human psychology? Can we integrate robots into our lives without destroying them? Science fiction has imagined possibilities since the 19th century, and fantasy, for even longer. Let’s examine some of the situations in which we might use a robot and extrapolate from that.

Already, hundreds of millions of people use AI today, so they can easily imagine conversations with an intelligent robot. And there are plenty of videos demonstrating the evolving physical abilities of robots. Recalling AI and robot progress from 2023 to 2026, it’s not difficult to imagine the progress this technology will achieve in the years 2026 to 2030.

The first thing we should do is visualize the robot you will buy. How tall do you want it to stand? Would a robot taller than you freak you out? Should the head have two eyes and a mouth, or would you be comfortable with a head with six eyes and no visible mouth? Should the body be humanoid? If so, should it wear clothes? If not, are there forms better suited for maximal utility? Do you want your robot to sit on the couch with you, or would you prefer it to stand?

Your wants will decide these choices. If you picture your robot kicking back in a La-Z-Boy and watching television with you, you’ll probably want it to be humanoid. If you buy a robot just for housework, yardwork, and home healthcare, you might purchase a robot that’s shaped easily to do the most chores. Right now, we buy robots to do individual tasks like vacuuming floors or mowing the lawn. But ultimately, wouldn’t it be more practical to have one robot that does everything rather than dozens of robots that do one thing?

Because so many millions use AI for conversation, I will assume faces will be important. Roboticists have experimented with giving robots facial expressions. And I’ve noticed that some robots in movies have body language, like C-3PO. Robots might not need to look very human to feel human.

I’ve been asking my friends about robots and their uses. One woman said she’s like a robot to share all her favorite activities and hobbies. She also said she sometimes wanted another husband, but ultimately decided they were too much trouble. Does that suggest we’re finding other people too much trouble, and we’d prefer machines?

Since most of my friends are around my age, their answers were much like my reasons. My wife can’t do much physically at all, and I’m getting less and less capable. I’d want a robot with the strength and stamina I had in my twenties to help me work around the house and in the yard. And as Susan and I got older, I’d want robots to be our live-in caretakers.

However, what if everyone did this? How many people would become unemployed? What happens to maids, gardeners, handymen, painters, car detailers, healthcare workers, and the other people we pay to come to our house? What if general-purpose household robots were also skilled at electrical work, plumbing, and maintaining HVACs?

If businesses replace white-collar workers with robots, and manufacturers replace factory workers with robots, and store owners replace retail workers with robots, what happens to the economy?

Some people worry that AI will become super-intelligent and want to wipe out humanity. That’s rather science fictional. But capitalists replacing labor with robots is all too real. Things are so complicated. How many people really want to wipe old people’s butts? Wouldn’t the wipers and the people being wiped prefer robots to have that job?

What jobs do humans want to keep, and which ones would they want to give to robots? And if you had no income, which jobs would you be willing to take?

I see owning a robot in old age as a prosthetic for my weakening body. It’s not to put someone else out of work, but to let me keep working on my own. But what if I were younger, and considering a robot to do housework? Right now, housework is good exercise for my mind and body. I keep telling my wife she should do housework to keep her from becoming an invalid. I tell her she shouldn’t let me hog all the healthy benefits of housework. She doesn’t buy that.

Susan wants to hire a maid or cleaning service. Many of our friends have. I reply that as long as we’re strong enough to do housework ourselves, we should. But what if most people could afford robots to serve them? Would many people love living the upstairs lifestyle we see in Downton Abbey? Won’t that make us lazier? Will we become like astronauts, vigorously working out in the gym for two hours a day to make up for twenty-two hours of weightlessness?

Many people are questioning what social media, smartphones, and the Internet have done to society. Will AI and robots undermine human nature even more? It’s so hard to answer these questions. If millions of lonely people find comfort with AI and robots, is that bad? The obvious solution would be for half the lonely to meet up with the other half.

Since those people aren’t doing that, does that suggest that something else is wrong? Could it be that some people prefer machines to other people? If so, the market for robots will be tremendous. So, even if we think AI and robots are bad for society, businesses will sell them, and we’ll buy them.

I should be out working in my yard. It needs a lot of work. But I rate the creative activity of writing this blog higher, so I’m skipping yardwork this morning.

I can easily visualize a robot working outside, landscaping my yard, because of all the Ray Bradbury and Clifford Simak science fiction stories I’ve read. I don’t really like working in the yard, but I do wish it were nicer. I’d like to redesign my yard to maximize its benefits for insects, birds, and other wildlife. I wish my backyard were all wildflowers.

The idea of looking out the window that’s just behind my computer monitor and seeing a robot crafting a nature preserve for living creatures would be immensely pleasing. I can even imagine going for a walk in my neighborhood and seeing both people and robots working together and separately as I pass each yard. I even picture humans and robots walking dogs, stopping together to chat and let their pups sniff each other. In this daydream, I also see robots pushing old people in wheelchairs and babies in strollers. I also imagine coming home and finding Susan directing a robot to repaint the living room.

This is an idyllic fantasy. But is it one we really want?

JWH

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Are You Preparing for the 2030s?

by James Wallace Harris, 3/23/26

The 2030s will cover ages 78 to 88 for me. If you’re a teenager, the 2030s will cover your college and job-seeking years. If you’re in your twenties, the 2030s could be the years you get married and start a family. If I hadn’t started seriously saving in my fifties, I couldn’t have retired in the 2010s.

It is impossible to know the future. Even speculations based on extrapolation about present trends are nearly always wrong. However, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared like good Boy Scouts. In fact, I’ve heard luck defined as merely proper preparation.

For those of us who have orbited the Sun dozens of times, we have lived through constant change. We’ve learned that society never stays the same. People and their behaviors never seem to change, but relentless change churns our lives. Just observe the 14 decades of change in the films presented by TCM.

The iPhone was announced on January 9, 2007. I don’t even think Steve Jobs had any idea what it would do to the world in the 2010s and 2020s. Nor did we imagine what Amazon (1994), Facebook (2004), Twitter (2006), Instagram (2010), TikTok (2016), and ChatGPT (2022) would do to society. And how many folks expected the end of Globalism and the return to nationalism in the 2010s?

I believe two technologies will transform society in the 2030s: AI and intelligent general-purpose robots. Ever since the Industrial Age began, Capitalists have resented the cost of Labor. But the reason we’ve always needed capitalism is that it gives most citizens employment. Capital and Labor were always tied together, but AI and robots could disconnect the relationship. What will that mean in the 2030s?

I know AI and robots will transform society in ways that will be judged evil in the coming decade. However, I will consider buying robotic caretakers for my wife and me in the 2030s. For a childless couple in their 80s, robots might be the cheapest and most advantageous solution. We will all find reasons (excuses?) to go along.

Humanity should decide to halt all development in AI and robotics right now. But we won’t. Greed is a dependable predictor of human behavior, and the millionaires and billionaires who see trillions in AI aren’t going to allow their greed to be curtailed.

It’s the same way the owners of trillions in fossil fuels haven’t let the threat of climate change interfere with their greed. But we can’t put all the blame on the rich, because we’ve all continued to consume fossil fuels. The weakness of human nature is also a reliable predictor of the future.

Societies only change during violent upheavals, such as the American, French, and Russian revolutions, the Civil War, WWI, and WWII. Moral upheavals, such as feminism, civil rights, and LGBTQIA+ rights, have been less effective at creating long-term, permanent change. Even the great upheaval created by the Enlightenment might not be permanent.

When thinking about what we might experience in the 2030s, we need to consider Black Swans. Donald Trump was a political black swan in 2016. There’s always a chance we’ll elect an Abraham Lincoln black swan in 2028 that will pull the nation back together. But black swans can’t be predicted.

Predictions for artificial intelligence range from the extinction of humanity to an age of unlimited abundance. Because technology has been a reliable agent of change for many decades, it’s probably safe to assume that trend will continue.

For example, if battery technology improves as much as companies working on battery science promise, expect a huge transformation. If just the Donut Labs battery turns out to be real, no one will want fossil fuels because renewable energy will be so dramatically cheaper.

If Elon Musk keeps his promise to manufacture millions of general-purpose robots with AI-powered minds, what will that do to human employment? Of course, business owners will buy them, but what about you? Could you resist owning your own Jeeves? How many fans of Downton Abbey and The Gilded Age will try to create a cybernetic service class? If you asked people in the 1950s if they’d ever want a computer in their homes, 99.9999% of them would have said no.

We can’t imagine black swans; that’s part of their definition. But most of the spectacular changes in society have come from technology that began its existence decades before transforming society. To imagine the 2030s, look at everything discovered in the last two decades.

As a science fiction fan, this will sound odd, but I think science fiction is a poor weathervane for the future. I believe the best bellwethers for the next decade are always revealed in the current decade.

JWH

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Ever Wonder Why Web Pages Keep Reloading on Your Phone? Or How Advertisers Know What You Are Thinking About Buying?

by James Wallace Harris, 3/20/26

I’ve practically stopped reading web pages on my phone because I can’t get to the end of an article without it reloading several times. That irritates the crap out of me. Yesterday, my friend Mike sent me a blog post that explains why web pages do this: “The 49MB Web Page.”

Shubham Bose realized while reading a page at the New York Times that it involved “422 network requests and 49 megabytes of data.” Bose is a software engineer and decided to deconstruct how and why. I highly recommend reading his explanation of what happens when you load a webpage. He also explains the hidden machinery that tracks our personal data.

My friend Anne and I joke that we can talk in person about something we’re interested in, and the next time we get on our computers, the algorithm is sending us information about what we talked about privately. Bose does not explain that apparent bit of mind-reading by our AI overload, but if we’re being observed in 422 ways each time we read a page, it can probably predict what we will think about soon.

Bose is an engineer interested in the user interface (UI) and user experience (UX), and recommends programming techniques that could make me like reading on my phone again.

Is that the real solution? Make our experience better so we don’t notice all the activity behind our reading?

Personally, I’m slowly returning to magazine reading. It’s hard to give up the convenience of the internet, but the UI and UX of print magazines are more enjoyable.

Magazines cost a lot of money and people naturally prefer free. But that’s another philosophical issue over technology. The internet provides endless free content, but is it really free? There’s a reason why free comes with 422 network calls and 49MB of spying programs.

My friend Linda and I are reading If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies by Eliezer Yudkowsky and Nate Soares. The book is about how we should worry that AI will wipe us out. The authors present many scenarios in which AIs could drive us to extinction. Most of them sound like science fiction, but there are mundane hints we should ponder.

This morning, I read “The Laid-off Scientists and Lawyers Training AI to Steal Their Careers” by Josh Dzieza about several companies that hire laid-off experts to train AIs to make fewer mistakes. Online systems entice desperate humans to work in digital sweatshops to train AIs to put other humans out of work. The same kind of monitoring used to sell us shit is used to track their work. The system traps them in a cycle of working for less and less money because they know these people are desperate to put food on the table and pay rent.

Is artificial intelligence doing this to us, or is it our own greed? At some point, we need to decide. There are many stories like this YouTube video, which suggest that AI can’t take our jobs.

It might be dangerous to get too comfortable with that idea. Because I also watched another video that shows how fast AIs are learning.

We have to decide, although our greed might not let us. One article and one video claim the solution is to develop a symbiotic relationship. But what happens when the AI gets smarter than us? If they don’t need us, will they want us around?

Many claim the internet brings out the worst in people, and it makes us overall dumber. There’s that old saying, “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.” Isn’t AI and the internet teaching us how not to fish?

JWH

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I Need To Shut Up About Getting Old

by James Wallace Harris, 3/16/26

I find getting old fascinating. And I enjoy writing about aging. I know I’m not saying anything original, but each new observation feels new to me. But I’m starting to see that other people don’t see getting old as a rewarding philosophical experience. Even though I’m amused by my mental and physical failings, talking and writing about them is bumming out some family and friends.

My newest observation, which I should have made much sooner, is that folks don’t see me by my view of aging, but theirs. They see the aged as depressing, frail, weak, useless, and something to either avoid or not think about.

Decades ago, I noticed that famous people in their late seventies and eighties were disappearing. Then, when their obits showed up, people would say, “I thought they were dead years ago.” Is that the proper etiquette – to hide away when old?

I think some people want to grow old like Mick Jagger and Keith Richards – to publicly rock out through their eighties, (and maybe nineties?). But most people, when they get wrinkly, prefer to hide from view. I don’t want to hide, but is that what young people expect? I’ve overheard young people criticizing people in their fifties, claiming they should not be seen.

Everyone loves to see centenarians who are still working full-time at amazing jobs. Or oldsters that still define cool.

I now assume the unwritten law is that we don’t want to see people who act old. If you’re old and act young, you’re good, but not if you act your age. But I’ve often seen young people making fun of old people acting young.

That means I need to act young, but only to my friends my age. I’ve started paying attention to other old people. Most are either quiet about aging or good at acting young (younger?).

And I’ve discovered a second good reason to shut up about life on the right side of the bell curve of aging. My recent social media feeds have been getting strange. The algorithm has noticed what I’ve been saying. At first, it sent me inspirational suggestions about being positive in my seventies. Then it sent me warnings about not offending young people. After that, it sent me info on which surgeries to get and which to avoid. Then last week, things started getting even stranger. Videos about assisted living and nursing home care started showing up.

Finally, and eeriest yet, are the videos about hospice care.

Yes, I need to shut up about aging. I want my feed to go back to home repair how-tos, wild animals being friends with other wild animals, and questionable young women asking me to visit their sites. (At least the digital con artists were under the illusion I’m still young enough to want young women, or willing to pretend that I think I am.)

Since I don’t want my friends and family to feel sorry for me, I need to write about topics that don’t age me. Also, I need to be careful what I say so my feeds don’t scare me.

I wonder how the feeds will react to this post?

JWH

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What Computer OS Do I Recommend To Friends in 2026?

by James Wallace Harris, 3/15/26

I’ve been helping friends and family with their computers for decades. I managed hundreds of computers at work. I’ve set up thousands of computers since 1978. In the old days, it was easy, just recommend Windows to the average computer user, and Mac OS to Apple fanatics. But in 2026, Windows is annoying many people, Apple computers are becoming affordable, and Linux use is spreading. Plus, there are options like Chrome OS for minimalists. It’s much harder to help someone pick a new computer today, with prices spiking, AI, and all the new chips.

I’m not even sure what computer OS I want for myself anymore. I was a faithful Windows user for decades. Yet, I’m writing this post on a Linux machine, running the Mint distro, an operating system suitable only for the nerdiest of computer geeks. However, my main machine is a Mac Mini M4 since I packed away my Windows machines.

Since retiring, far fewer people ask me for help buying a new computer. And I have much less experience shopping online and visiting Best Buy. But a couple of my friends, whom I picked out their current laptop, are talking about needing a new computer. Their main concern is price. Both spent $600 for Windows laptops about six years ago.

Several decent laptops in the $500-650 range are currently for sale from Lenovo, HP, Dell, and Samsung. Any of these machines would be superior to what they had before. All are configured with an i5, 16GB of memory, and between 256GB and 1TB SSD drives. Each model has a 15.6-inch screen. Recommending them would cause them the least amount of transition pain for my two friends

However, Apple’s new MacBook Neo for $599 is an excellent deal. The Mac Mini M4 at $599 is what got me to switch to MacOS last year. And both of my friends use iPhones and iPads. If they were willing to suffer learning MacOS, they might be happier with the MacBook Neo if they could handle a 13-inch screen.

The Neo has only 8GB of memory and a 256GB SSD. For their use, that’s no problem. However, for $100 more, they could get a 512GB drive and Touch ID. The real problem with the Neo’s small screen. I have the MacBook Air M1 with the 13-inch screen, and it’s really too small for my liking. The cheapest MacBook with a 15-inch screen is the Air, at $1,299. They won’t spend that kind of money.

There’s another factor. Windows machines typically last 5-6 years, while the latest Apple computers with the super-efficient and powerful Apple Silicon chips might last years longer. None of my other machines matches the quality of the Mac Mini and Air. It’s not even close.

The 13-inch screen on the MacBook Neo and Air has a default resolution that makes the typeface tiny. Of course, Janis and Linda are used to 6-inch and 10-inch screens on their iPhones and iPads, so they might adjust. I set my MacBook Air to a lower resolution to make the typeface bigger and easier to read. But this sometimes causes a problem when a button I’m supposed to click is off-screen. I have to change the resolution, click the button, then change the resolution back.

There are Chromebooks with 15 to 16-inch screens within my friends’ price range. And these are a possibility. But I have to explain their limitations, and I’m not sure if my friends will understand. If everything you do is within a browser window, then Chromebooks are a good solution.

Since I’ve been migrating away from Office 365 to Google Drive, I could almost switch to a Chromebook myself. Most of my computer work is writing, browsing, and emailing. It’s only when I want to scan old magazines and create PDF and CBR files that I need programs that Chromebooks can’t install.

I use my MacBook Air M1 machine only to write when I’m sitting in a recliner, and it does the job fine. And I do that in a Chrome browser window while using Google Docs. I could have bought a Chromebook and saved half of what I spent on the Air.

But there are other things to consider. There is a synergy between my iPhone, iPad, MacBook Air, and Mac Mini. And since I’m subscribed to Google Gemini, their AI, there is a reason to use Google Chrome, Google Docs, and all the other Google services, which all work with Apple hardware. It helps that Google and Apple are becoming big buddies. Having tight integration between my hardware platforms and all my software has many synergistic benefits. Yet, I must admit, those benefits require a learning curve.

I admire Linux. I root for Linux. But I’d never recommend Linux to a casual computer user. Being a Linux user is like being Sisyphus – always having to roll a rock uphill. It’s fun if you can dig it, but painful if you can’t.

The easiest solution for my friends (and me) is for them to buy something like what they had before. But that pains me. Windows is suffering tremendous enshitification. And Apple is producing stunning hardware, hardware that’s becoming affordable.

Technologically, my Mac Mini M4 is by far the most advanced computer I’ve ever owned, and it only cost me $549. The MacBook Air M1 was $749, and it’s been the nicest laptop I’ve ever owned.

The last computer I helped a friend buy was a tiny Mini PC. She had an HP laptop that was giving her trouble, but didn’t want to spend $600 for another one. She already owns an external monitor, keyboard, and mouse that she uses with the laptop. I asked her if she ever took her laptop on trips. She said no, that it always stayed on the desk. I said she could get a tiny Mini PC with an N95 chip for $190, which was more powerful than her laptop. She’s been happy with that solution.

Most people don’t need powerful computers. Only gamers and content creators need to get expensive machines. I know several people who only use their phones for functions they once used on computers. Sme other friends find that a tablet covers all their computing needs.

It’s gotten very hard to recommend computers for people. AI has the potential to shake things up even more. If people get used to talking to their computer and asking it to do the work, the whole human-computer interface might change. We could all end up talking to our watches.

Most of my friends are retired. A few still take courses that require a computer. But for the most part, without needing a computer for school or a job, the desire to own computers diminishes. Most of the fun functions that families bought home computers for have moved to smartphones, smart televisions, and smart home products.

I might tell my two friends to try buying a keyboard for their iPads and see if they can get by without laptops. MacOS and iPadOS are getting closer, so features and functions are crossing over to the other form factor.

If I gave up on digitizing old books and magazines, I could probably adapt to blogging on my MacBook Air. I’m amazed by how so many young people only have laptops. But I haven’t made that decision yet. If I only browsed the net, emailed, and needed a word processor and spreadsheet rarely, I could consider a tablet with a keyboard.

I think the trend is towards smaller computers, or even away from computers. I’m still stuck in the past. I love large high-resolution monitors. I gave up loving big tower computers years ago and switched to mini PCs. I haven’t paid close attention to what all my friends are using, but I think desktop computers are disappearing from homes.

Finally, I will say that learning to use AI might make people want a big monitor again. If you enjoy learning, researching, and writing, Google’s Gemini and Notebook LM are wonderful tools. Juggling lots of knowledge works great on 27 to 32-inch high-resolution monitors. If you think you’ll be into that, I highly recommend the latest Mac Mini with the most memory and the largest 4k to 6k monitor you can afford.

Gemini, my AI of choice, just told me it currently offers more features to Windows users, but it’s catching up quickly for Mac users. I was disappointed to discover that many Gemini and CoPilot features I enjoy on the Mac aren’t available on Linux. That’s pushing me towards the Mac and away from Linux. I wrote the first draft of this post on Linux, but moved to the Mac to finish it.

Most people will use AI on their phones for reference and chatting. AI could replace Googling. However, if you create any kind of content, AI could influence how much computer power you will want in the future. I’m not sure anyone knows how much they will use AI in the coming years. It could inspire hobbies and pursuits we can’t imagine now.

I’d say the Mac Mini ($599) with a 27″ 4K monitor ($300) offers the most bang for the buck if you want to get into content creation and play around with AI for under $1,000. It’s also good for programming. But it’s overkill if you just browse the web, do TurboTax once a year, and maybe write a few letters or create a spreadsheet of your expenses. Gamers will want to stick with Windows, although many are moving to Linux. Production content creators will want something faster.

JWH

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Finding Purpose in Retirement

by James Wallace Harris, 3/11/26

Now that I’ve been retired for over a dozen years, I can begin to generalize about this phase of life. I had a good job, one that gave me satisfaction. I was never a big success, nor ambitious, but I thought my work was useful. I felt I helped people. I spent thirty-five years working at a university, and most of that time in the College of Education.

Because we prepared teachers and counselors, I thought I was indirectly helping the world by supporting faculty, staff, and students with their computers and computer labs. I also programmed the database to track students seeking licensure, and collected statistics for the college, university, state, federal government, and several accreditation agencies. I even helped a campus Kindergarten and Elementary School with their computers. All of that gave me a sense of purpose.

I didn’t think I’d miss work when I retired, and I didn’t for many years. But after a while, I realized that I wasn’t doing anything useful. During my work years, I never worried about having a purpose. Looking back, I realized I did have one, and it was fulfilling.

At this point, I need to confess. By the time I retired at 62, I was worn out. I just had a stent put in my heart. I had very low vitality. Even more than physically worn out, I was mentally exhausted. I came to the CoE in the 1980s, when the colleges could hire their own computer guys, but just before retirement, the university decided that all computer techs of any kind had to be part of IT. The IT department wanted all programs written in their designated language using their designated framework. Plus, they wanted me to give up my file and database servers.

Mentally, I couldn’t learn a new language. For years, I had been trying to upgrade my Classic .asp programs to ASP.NET. In my late fifties, I couldn’t make the jump from procedural programming to object-oriented programming. Programming and system administration became only a part-time job for me. Programming required long hours of focused programming. However, frequent interruptions from faculty, staff, and students for computer support kept me from programming. The college hired two guys to help me, but they could never keep up. It was actually a good thing that the IT department was taking over.

That frustration of not being able to devote myself to programming and not being able to grasp new programming concepts was a psychological revelation. I knew mentally I couldn’t adapt. When I trained the young woman from IT to take over the programming part of my job, she understood what I was teaching her as fast as I could talk. It was amazing. I realized then I was old. Her young mind worked many times faster than my old brain.

In other words, there was a reason to retire. However, waiting around to die isn’t particularly fulfilling. I thought retirement would give me all the time in the world to pursue several big dream projects. I thought about getting an M.S. in computer science. I wanted to prove I could catch up. I also wanted to write that science fiction novel I always fantasized about writing.

As the years passed, those ambitions faded away. I want to blame aging, but I don’t know if that’s true. I turned my aim to smaller goals. I thought maybe I could learn Python, an easy language, and write short stories. Those things didn’t happen either. I missed having a purpose.

Recently, I’ve discovered something else important about life. In old age, people with children are very different than people without children. Having children also gives people a purpose. Susan and I never had children. Our parents and all our aunts and uncles are long dead. Over half of my cousins are dead. And we seldom see our nieces and nephews.

Susan and I now depend completely on friends. That’s very rewarding. However, I see friends with children and grandchildren slowly moving away. And that’s understandable.

Among our retired friends, there’s a distinct difference between those with children and grandchildren and those without. Old folks with descendants have an inherent purpose.

I could volunteer, but I never found that satisfying, the few times I’ve tried. And now, in my mid-seventies, I don’t have the energy.

Ultimately, I found purpose in small pursuits. Doing housework and keeping up the yard keeps me busy, and it’s somewhat fulfilling. Writing blogs gives a sense of purpose. I try to help friends when I can. I’m still a computer guy.

It’s funny, though, but since I turned seventy, whenever I offer to help women friends with things they can’t physically handle, they tell me no. They worry I’m too old and might hurt my back. That reminds me of an old George Carlin routine where he talks about turning 70. He joked that he only had to reach toward something heavy and people would rush over and pick it up for him. I still feel like I can do physical things, but other people see me as being weak. I don’t like that. Several times I’ve been to Ikea or Home Depot and was loading my pickup when young people rushed over to help me. Twice, young women even got out of their cars to offer their help.

It’s tough when everyone expects you to be weak, which might explain why my lady friends stop wanting my help. Maybe getting old makes everyone more fussy about doing things for themselves.

For the first decade of my retirement, my hobbies helped give me purpose. But something is changing. I’m slowly letting my hobbies go. I think it’s because of dwindling energy, but aging might be eroding interest, too.

It’s funny how little things become more important. Susan loves to watch old TV shows while doing needlepoint. I bought a NAS, and I’m ripping DVDs of her favorite shows. It’s given me something to do for a few months, and that has been rewarding. Around me, the world is falling to pieces, but ripping DVDs provides a little bit of purpose. That’s insignificant to the bigger world, but weirdly valid in my diminishing world.

Nowadays, I go from one little project to the next. Currently, that project is setting up a post for Susan’s bird feeder with a video camera. No matter how small the project, they always end up setting me with challenges to overcome. For example, the 4×4 post I bought to fit into an existing 4×4 concrete hole in the backyard is just so slightly too big. The previous post had been planed down some. I don’t have a wood planing machine. I considered buying a hand plane, but my AI recommended a wood rasp, which I’ve ordered. After I’ve planed down the lower 18 inches, I’ve got to put on wood sealer and then paint it. This little project will keep me busy for days.

That’s where I find purpose now, with little projects. And as I get older, I expect those projects to get ever smaller. I’m reminded of a short story by R. A. Lafferty, called “Nine Hundred Grandmothers.” A human explorer visiting an alien planet discovers an intelligent species that never dies. They just get older and smaller. He tracks down the most ancient ones in a cave, where they line a shelf on the wall, always getting smaller. That’s how I picture myself getting older, pursuing smaller and smaller projects.

JWH

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Are We Alone?

by James Wallace Harris, 2/19/26

There are two ways we can examine the question: Are We Alone? The first is personal. As individuals, are we by ourselves? I’ve often heard people say they feel alone even in a crowded room. The other way is to wonder if humanity is alone in the universe. Lately, I’ve been meditating on both.

With all the mysteries that the James Webb Space Telescope is discovering, and all the speculation about our universe being part of a multiverse, it’s easy to assume reality is infinite. Which would make people infinitely small. Does it matter if we’re alone in the universe when we’re so insignificant?

Of course, if we assume reality is infinite, it also means there are infinite possibilities for other beings to exist. But is this similar to that person at a big party still feeling alone? If we’re not talking, then we still feel alone.

Even though I have always had lots of friends and can be social, I’m a loner. I’ve always been a bookworm who prefers being social 20% of the time, and by myself 80%. I think I was at my most social when I was young, but after retiring, I became more social again.

However, I’m noticing something lately. As my friends move into their middle seventies, they are withdrawing into themselves. I’m trying to resist that trend, but it’s getting harder because my aging friends want to stay home. I have to admit, I want to stay home but get my friends to come over.

I felt like I had regular conversations with 40-50 people when I worked. But now that’s down to about a dozen. And two of them have been ghosting me. I think when we get old, the stress of everything makes us withdraw into ourselves. I’m both fighting that and embracing it.

Part of the problem is energy. As we age, we run out of energy, and thus it gets harder and harder to make any effort – for friends, for hobbies, for staying healthy, for keeping the house clean, etc. The other obvious problem is health. We’re just slowly breaking down.

But I wonder if there’s another factor. Are we just getting tired of explaining ourselves? Let’s face it, words fail us. Could we ever adequately express what we wanted, what we felt, what we meant? Since the advent of the Internet, people have certainly tried. But what a mess. Just imagine how well we’d do communicating with beings living on other planets orbiting distant stars?

I haven’t given up. But I think we need to explore new ways of communicating.

Yes, we’re alone, living in our heads, while existing in a fantastic reality. I’ve decided we have many problems to conquer. Two of the biggest obstacles we need to overcome are the narrative fallacy and the confirmation bias.

They work together. Basically, we embrace beliefs that have no relation to reality, and second, we only see what will confirm those fantasies. We tune out people who undermine our beliefs and embrace those who do. But other beliefs will splinter those bonds.

That shell of delusion keeps us from communicating with other people. In the long run, we’re either forced to be alone or choose to.

Maybe reality never cared about evolving beings that communicate. Maybe intelligence, self-awareness, and language are failed evolutionary experiments. Or maybe we need to try harder.

JWH

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Can We Fight Back Against Enshitification?

by James Wallace Harris, 2/9/26

“Enshitification” is the trendy catchword of the moment. Cory Doctorow coined this handy term and describes what it means in his latest book, Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It. However, I don’t think you need to read the book to get the idea. At a minimum, just listen to the interview with Doctorow and Tim Wu below on the Ezra Klein show titled “We Didn’t Ask for This Internet“:

Tim Wu covers similar ground in his book The Age of Extraction.

For my purposes, I use both terms to point to a specific kind of corporate greed that’s making our lives miserable. We could use both terms in this sentence: The relentless extraction of wealth is leading the enshitification of society.

Cory Doctorow uses the Internet to illustrate the process. Every program, app, or site begins life doing something wonderful for users. Often, their creators promise to always keep their users’ best interests at the core of their business model. But as time goes on and they need to keep making more money, they forget that promise. Eventually, they will do anything to get more users and more money.

Tim Wu models his term on the evils of private equity and similar practices. For example, in the interview, Wu gives this evil example:

In America, hospitals preferentially hire nurses through apps. And they do so as contractors. Hiring contractors means that you can avoid the unionization of nurses. And when a nurse signs on to get a shift through one of these apps, the app is able to buy the nurse’s credit history.

The reason for that is that the U.S. government has not passed a new federal consumer privacy law since 1988, when Ronald Reagan signed a law that made it illegal for video store clerks to disclose your VHS rental habits.

Every other form of privacy invasion of your consumer rights is lawful under federal law. So among the things that data brokers will sell to anyone who shows up with a credit card is how much credit card debt any other person is carrying, and how delinquent it is.

Based on that, the nurses are charged a kind of desperation premium. The more debt they’re carrying, the more overdue that debt is, the lower the wage that they’re offered, on the grounds that nurses who are facing economic privation and desperation will accept a lower wage to do the same job.

Now this is not a novel insight. Paying more desperate workers less money is a thing that you can find in, like, Tennessee Ernie Ford songs about 19th-century coal bosses. The difference is that if you’re a 19th-century coal boss who wants to figure out how much the lowest wage each coal miner you’re hiring is willing to take, you have to have an army of Pinkertons who are figuring out the economic situation of every coal miner, and you have to have another army of guys in green eye shades who are making annotations to the ledger where you’re calculating their pay packet. It’s just not practical. So automation makes this possible.

Doesn’t that sound like a cross between Nineteen Eighty-Four and the way China monitors its citizens? Wu is seeing how the extraction of wealth is doing something just as evil, but we could call it enshitification too.

Another example, this time from my New York Magazine subscription, “Body Cam Hustle” is about how people are making money off of videos of drunk drivers taken by the police. States enacted laws requiring police to wear body cameras to gather evidence and protect the innocent. The Internet went from promoting cute cat videos to scenes of personal shame. To show how society is also just as corrupt, audiences prefer seeing women being arrested.

I doubt I need to give any more examples, we all instantly recognize the genius of coining the word enshitification.

Cory Doctorow and Ezra Klein recall fond memories and hopes the Internet gave them when they were young. But it seems the Internet turns everything to shit eventually.

Does every sucky thing that depresses us most today connect to the Internet?

And more importantly, can we fight enshitification?

One area where I noticed people fighting back is with subscriptions. Tim Wu says subscriptions are the new, and more efficient, method of extraction. People are switching to Linux, free and open source software, unsubscribing from cloud storage, and going back to DVDs, CDs, and LPs.

Other people are taking up analog hobbies like sewing, gardening, woodworking, cooking, and handicrafts. Young people feel they are embracing the hobbies their grandparents pursued.

And other people are buying local rather than ordering online.

On the other hand, millions are adopting AI and racing full steam ahead into a dark Blade Runner-like cyberpunk future.

Does running from the clutches of Microsoft or Apple into the arms of Linux really help us escape enshitification? If Facebook and X are evil, does it make them less evil to access from Fedora and use the Brave browser? (I’m writing this post from Linux, and it’s been a struggle not to use all my favorite software tools on Windows.)

Would we be happier if we shut off the Internet and went back to televisions with antennas? I’ve contemplated what that would be like. My initial fear is that it would be lonelier. I don’t know why. I have many friends I see regularly. I guess the hive mind feels more connected.

I think we like to share. To communicate with like-minded people regarding our specific interests. Before the Internet, I was involved with science fiction fandom. I published fanzines, belonged to Amateur Press Associations (APAs), was part of a local science fiction club, and went to conventions.

I suppose I could regress.

But do people do that? Shouldn’t we figure out how to move forward and solve our enshitification problems? But how?

What if we split the internet into two segments? We keep the existing Internet, and create a new one that requires identity verification. To get a login would require visiting an agency in person and providing proof of your identity. Like when we got Read IDs. But also connect that identity to three types of biometric data. The login to the new Internet would have to be absolutely foolproof, otherwise people wouldn’t trust it.

I know this sounds scary and dangerous, but we’re already doing this piecemeal. Both corporations and criminals already know who we are.

Would people behave better on the Internet if they knew everyone knew exactly who they were? I assume that with such tracking of real identities, it would be almost impossible to rip people off since all activity would have a well-documented trail.

For this to work, corporations would have to be just as open and upfront. They would have to make all their log files public. So any individual could examine all the ways they are being tracked.

Is a much of enshitification due to anonymity and hidden corporate practices?

What if everything we did on the Internet was out in full sunlight?

I have no idea if this would help. It could make things much worse. But isn’t everything already getting much worse?

JWH

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Why I Prefer to Use the Word “Reality” to Mean Everything Instead of Using the Word “Universe.”

by James Wallace Harris, 2/4/26

When I was growing up, we used the word “universe” to mean everything in all of existence. However, over the course of my lifetime, scientists have started theorizing that there might be other universes, and we’re part of a multiverse. And who knows, what if there are multiple multiverses? Or even larger structures?

I now prefer to use the word “reality” to mean everything. And when I say reality, I mean all of existence that science has detected, and all of existence beyond that, too.

Since science has never found the largest and smallest aspect of reality, I assume reality is infinite in all directions.

It’s hard to imagine the size of the universe. If the known universe were shrunk to the size of a human body, a galaxy would be the size of a cell. And a human would be smaller than anything science has measured.

We are insignificant to the universe, and even more so to the multiverse, and we have no idea how to convey how small we’d be to reality. We are not the crown of creation.

Yet, of everything we’ve observed in reality, we’re the only aspect of reality that is aware of reality. I’m sure in the vastness of reality, we’re not unique, but in our domain, we are.

I started to write, “We are a miracle of existence,” but the word “miracle” is bogus. Miracles exist in our imagination, but not in reality. We are a byproduct of reality’s constant evolution. On one hand, it feels like our individual existence is akin to a tornado tearing through a forest, leaving a perfect Frank Lloyd Wright house in its wake. As a human, it feels miraculous to exist, but in reality, we’re just part of the evolutionary churn.

Theologians and Philosophers have come up with endless speculations about how we got here, why, and what we should be doing. Science has explained how we got here, but offers no theories about why or what we should be doing.

Reality creates and destroys. We did not choose to exist, and we can’t avoid death. We get a glimpse of eternity and then fall into darkness.

The trouble is that our view of reality is obscured by delusions. First of all, we don’t observe reality directly. Inputs from our senses model reality in the brain, and our sense of self observes that model. We distort that model with our beliefs.

Can we improve our model of reality? By improving, develop a model that more realistically describes reality in our minds?

For most humans, achieving success meant making their desires come true. But if those desires are based on delusions, are they wasting their time in reality?

We’re into The Matrix, choosing between red and blue pills, aren’t we? We’re also somewhere beyond Zen Buddhism and Existentialism.

What if we created a reality-based society? What would its Constitution and laws be like? If reality inspires a religion, it should inspire only one. If it inspired two religions, it would be because they were imperfect models of reality.

People have always wanted to make their religion a theocracy, but all theocracies fail because they can’t create a universal model of reality.

I believe liberal philosophy was slowly moving towards a better model of reality. However, about half of the population doesn’t want that. They want everyone to accept their model of reality, which is based on their preferred delusion.

How do we live in reality when most people want to live in their fantasies?

JWH

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Why Did Kristin Diable’s “My River” Sound So Great On My Cheap Headphones at 5:55am This Morning?

by James Wallace Harris 1/29/26

I’ve come up with 5 reasons why I’m hearing more details in my music listening. And none of them is because I’ve bought better equipment. Some of those reasons might sound a bit woo-woo, but who knows.

I woke up early yesterday morning with the urge to hear music. I wasn’t ready to get up. The only headphones on my bedstand were a cheap pair of Bluetooth headphones I use for audiobooks. I put them on and loaded my standard Spotify playlist.

“My River” by Kristin Diable came on. It sounded amazing. For weeks, my den and bedroom stereos have sounded much better than ever. What’s going on? I’m talking a dramatic night-and-day difference on these headphones. Were my ears improving?

1 -Physiological?

Weeks ago, I stopped taking a drug I’d had been taking for years. When I asked my doctor about my chronic stuffy nose, she mentioned that sinus congestion was a side effect of that drug. Slowly, over recent weeks, I feel myself breathing more through my nose. Could this also have affected my hearing?

The only problem with this theory is that I don’t remember hearing music like this before I took the drug. Nor do I remember a decline in hearing after I started taking the drug.

2 – Time of Day?

As I lay there in the dark listening to music, all the instruments were clear and distinct. I heard little guitar riffs and drum fills I’d never noticed before. Could I have been dreaming? Diable’s voice was so multi-textured.

I do love listening to music on headphones while I sleep because sometimes I achieve a state of consciousness between sleep and awake, and I feel like I’m floating inside the music. But I was awake this morning.

I think I always hear music better late at night or early in the morning when I’m using headphones. Yesterday morning was special. It felt like a peak event. This morning, I played music again at the same time, and the music was equally vivid.

However, this doesn’t explain why music sounds better at other times during the day. Not quite as impressive as the headphones this morning, but I’ve been noticing a definite improvement in staging and fidelity.

3 – Focus?

The other day, I read an excerpt from Michael Pollan’s new book titled “How to Have a Don’t-Know Mind.” It was from the last chapter of A World Appears: A Journey Into Consciousness, due out next month. That chapter was about staying at a Zen Buddhist retreat, where he learned that shutting off his mind led to greater powers of awareness. He spent days in a “cave” with few distractions, forcing him to slow his racing thoughts.

Was listening to music in the dark before it was time to get up, a time when my mind was inactive, letting me hear more?

Audiophiles claim to hear greater details in music than average listeners. Is that just the ability to focus? I remember back in the 1960s, and how smoking pot made music sound great. I quit getting high over fifty years ago, but I remember that I decided then that pot didn’t enhance music, but altered time and concentration. I’ve always tried to pay close attention while listening. I don’t like using music as background noise.

4 – Sense of Time

I remember getting a friend high, one who was an avid music listener, and he exclaimed that he heard things in his favorite songs he never heard before. We theorized that it might be because pot distorted our sense of time. When time slows down, we hear more.

That altered sense of time could explain why music sounds better when I’m sleeping or just waking up. But it doesn’t explain why my daytime listening also improved. Not as much, but noticeable. Maybe during the day, I’m relaxing more, focusing on the music more, slowing time down.

Maybe I should train my mind to meditate on music and shut out everything else.

5 – Technology

I was awake when Kristin Diable’s voice sounded so rich and alluring. I wasn’t in a dream state, where music sounds unbelievable. Audiophiles talk about headphones and speakers needing a burn-in period. I’ve listened to hundreds of hours of audiobooks with the Earfun headphones, but only a few hours of music. Could they have reached a burn-in stage for music?

And I haven’t listened to these headphones since Spotify switched to CD-quality streaming. That could be another factor.

But then why were the Klipsch and Polk speakers also sounding much better, too?

Conclusion

Later in the day, the music still sounded good on those headphones, but not as impressive as when I was in bed before sunrise. I tried those headphones again this morning at the same time, and wow, oh, wow.

The first song I heard was “Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence” by Ryuichi Sakamoto. It’s a piano piece, and I thought I could discern the separate notes in chords. Every instrument sounded so distinct. I could place each spatially, and I was aware of the duration of notes. It had to be an altered sense of time.

Then I listened to “Me & Magdalena” by The Monkees. Before now, I thought only Mike sang it, but this time I could hear both Mike and Micky.

And I’m sure some people have always been able to hear such details. Even though I’ve been crazy about music since 1962, and have spent many tens of thousands of hours listening to it, I’m probably still learn how to listen. Still learning to distinguish the components that make up a gestalt.

Before I publish this, I’ve thought of one more reason. I’m getting old and retreating from the world. Music has become a refuge. I get more pleasure from listening to music than doing anything else. I wonder if the Williamson effect is taking hold of me. I had a friend named Williamson who, before he died, lost interest in his many passions, one by one. The last time I talked to him, he said listening to Duane Allman and Benny Goodman were the only things he cared about. I’ve wondered if he got down to just one before he died. Or even none.

My list of favorite things is dwindling. It’s still in the dozens, though, so I have a ways to go.

JWH

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DVDs vs. Streaming vs. Plex/Jellyfin

by James Wallace Harris, 1/24/26

I don’t know if you are old enough to remember videotapes, but they were a marvel for the time. Before that, the only way to see a particular movie or TV show was to wait for it to be broadcast. Sometimes, you’d wait years to catch one specific film or rerun of a TV show. After VHS tapes, you could go to the video store and buy or rent whatever you wanted to see.

Eventually, DVDs and Blu-ray discs replaced VHS tapes. Progress was always toward building personal libraries of favorite films and TV shows with higher quality playback resolution.

Then came Netflix DVD rentals. That allowed access to any film or TV show within a day or two. That was so damn convenient that owning DVDs became less popular. After that came Netflix streaming, which made access to favorite shows instant. Who needed to own anything?

Nothing stays the same. If Netflix had never gotten any competitors, I think I would have been content forever. It was like Spotify, one monthly payment for everything.

Now our favorite movies and TV shows are spread over many streaming services, but some shows are nowhere to be streamed. In some cases, I can rent what I want to see individually from Amazon, but with other shows, I have to buy them on DVD or Blu-ray. And for a few shows, they aren’t available for sale or rent.

Over the past thirty years, Susan and I have amassed quite a library of movies and television shows on DVD/BD. But for years, they have been sitting on an out-of-the-way bookshelf. Several years ago, I gave several bags of DVDs to the Friends of the Library when Marie Kondo became popular. However, I kept a couple of hundred that still sparked joy when I held them.

Last fall, I got disgusted with streaming services. We were subscribed to several. They kept raising their prices. And what I wanted to see kept jumping from one service to another. And HBO jettisoned many of its classic shows.

I bought a NAS, set up Jellyfin, and started ripping our library to MP4 and MKV. I’ve been working for weeks, and I’m only halfway through our discs.

It’s a lot of work ripping discs. And it’s frustrating because sometimes neither MakeMKV nor WinX DVD Ripper can read an old disc. I own the complete series of The Twilight Zone on Blu-ray, but MakeMKV couldn’t read one disc, and one episode from another. Nor could either program rip my copy of the theatrical release of Blade Runner from a DVD set that had four different versions of the movie. I also failed to copy one episode of MASH out of 251. That’s annoying.

Setting up Jellyfin on a NAS was not easy. A NAS with RAID drives and two external drives for backups was expensive. It’s quite a commitment to set up your own streaming service on Plex or Jellyfin.

I’m not sure it is worth it. Once the content is ripped, watching movies and TV shows on Jellyfin is much more convenient than watching them on disc. And Susan and I have started using our video library again. That does feel good.

Once ripping is done, Jellyfin is very nice. But to be perfectly honest, watching the same shows on Netflix, HBO, Apple, Hulu, Paramount+, etc. is a bit more convenient, and the picture quality is a touch better. Jellyfin is still plenty good enough.

Personally, I’d be happy to cancel all our streaming services and just watch what we own, but Susan wants to keep all her favorite streaming services. Susan loves watching all her favorite TV shows over and over again while she cross-stitches. There are about a dozen of them spread over five streaming services. I’ve bought the complete series of several of them on DVD and ripped them to my Jellyfin server.

I will subscribe to a streaming service to see a new TV series. For example, I’m subscribing to Paramount+, so my friends and I can watch Landman season 2. Before that, I subscribed to MGM+ so Annie and I could watch Earth Abides. And I resubscribed to Apple+ so Susan and I could watch Pluibus. And before that, I subscribed to Britbox to watch The House of Eliot.

Right now, Susan and I are watching The Fugitive and Mr. Novak at night on Jellyfin. Neither is available to stream. In other words, to watch shows unavailable on regular streaming, we have to buy the discs and use Jellyfin.

I roughly estimate that Jellyfin costs me $25 a month, assuming my NAS setup lasts at least five years, and includes the cost of buying DVDs occasionally. We currently spend $50-60 a month on streaming services.

Unless we cancel half of our subscriptions, Jellyfin isn’t saving us any money. It does make our 30-year investment in DVDs pay dividends again. However, many of the movies and TV shows in our library are available on streaming services. It’s hard to make a case for Jellyfin. Life would be simpler without ripping discs, maintaining a NAS server, backing up, etc. Also, our house would be less cluttered without all these discs.

Going the Plex/Jellyfin route only makes sense if you only watch what you own. And that tends to be old favorites. If you love seeing the latest films and shows, Jellyfin isn’t practical.

Knowing what I know now, I would have given all my old discs to the Friends of the Library and my DVD and Blu-ray players to Goodwill. The Fugitive and Mr. Novak have their nostalgic appeal for 1963, but there are many other worthy new shows to watch in 2026.

JWH

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Could I Have Said “No” to Television in 1957?

by James Wallace Harris, 1/20/26

When you think about it, staring at a screen for hours on end seems weird. We exist in an immense three-dimensional reality, yet we prefer to focus on a small two-dimensional artificial reality. Why?

There are possible explanations. We don’t view reality directly, but rather perceive what we think is reality through a recreation within our minds. And our minds love making up stories to explain everything, and usually, they have little to do with reality. At night, our unconscious minds generate dreams that feel like another reality.

Is it any wonder we’re so addicted to fiction on a screen? Make-believe is so much easier than the complexity of reality.

Before screens, there were books, plays, storytellers, tall tales, and gossip. Humans interact with reality with words and language, but those tools are so imprecise that they encourage us to make stuff up that’s not there.

So, back in 1957, when I was five, could I have rejected television? Could my little mind have said, “This is fake, I’m going out to ride my bike?”

I wish I had, but I didn’t. Guessing that I watch four hours of television a day on average, that means since January 1, 1957, I’ve spent 100,884 hours in front of the boob tube. They claim it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become great at doing anything. I could have become an expert at ten endeavors if I had said “No” to television.

A more important question is: Can I say “No” to television in 2026?

Why spend the last years of my existence glued to a television or computer screen?

Reality feels the most real when I’m outside working in the yard. I can feel the heat of a nearby star, the changing atmospheric conditions, and watch the plants, trees, birds, bugs, and animals coexist in an ecology. At night, I can see the moon, planets, stars, and even galaxies. Nature should be the most stimulating part of my existence. But it’s not.

My mind prefers to dwell on music, books, magazines, TV shows, movies, the internet, and YouTube. Why is watching old episodes of Mr. Novak from 1963 more rewarding than raking leaves or watching birds at their feeder?

I think it’s because I didn’t say “No” to television in 1957. Like people embracing religion for a lifetime at an early age, I worshipped at the television set. I wasn’t smart enough to make a choice.

Years before 1957, I remember my mother putting my sister and me in front of the TV to watch Kukla, Fran and Ollie or Romper Room as she got dressed in the morning. And after them, it was Captain Kangaroo. But I’m not blaming my mother. TV was irresistible. When my parents weren’t around, I’d turn it on. I have distinct memories of doing that by myself at age five. I remember watching Gunsmoke by myself in 1957.

I suppose if my parents had coached me in learning little activities, I might have become used to actively doing things rather than sitting in front of the TV. To be fair, in 1957, I have memories of playing with toy trucks in the scrubery, riding my bike, playing with friends, walking to school, and spending weeks pretending to be a pirate while sailing in an old wooden crate.

However, all those activities lacked much conscious effort. Becoming good at anything requires a conscious effort. I’m not sure kids do that on their own. I never had a mentor to get me started.

Watching television or doomscrolling is deliciously an unconscious effort.

I could never have said “No” to television in 1957 on my own. That would have only happened if I had the guidance of a wiser person. And they would have had to show me a better alternative.

I’ve contemplated giving up television for all my adult life. Intellectually, I know there are better ways to spend my time in reality. But I got conditioned to television at a young age, and I’ve never been able to reprogram myself.

I really should try. I only have a few more years in this reality.

If you don’t want your kids addicted to screens their entire lives, I recommend mentoring them in other activities.

JWH

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What I Learned After Buying a UGreen DXP2800 NAS

by James Wallace Harris, 1/7/26

Don’t bother reading this essay unless you’re considering the following:

Want to cancel your subscription to a cloud storage site
Manage terabytes of data
Hope to convert your old movies on discs to Jellyfin or Plex
Want to run Linux programs via Docker

For the past few years, I’ve been watching YouTubers promote NASes (Network Attached Storage). Last year, I just couldn’t help myself, I bought a UGreen DXP2800. I’m not sure I needed a NAS. Dropbox has been serving me well for over fifteen years.

[My DXP2800 is pictured above on top of a bookcase. It’s connected to a UPS and a mesh router. It’s a little noisy, but not bad.]

Actually, I loved Dropbox until I figured it was the reason my computers ran warm and noisy. I assume that was because it routinely checked tens of thousands of my files to keep them indexed, copied, and up-to-date on my three computers, two tablets, and an iPhone.

Lesson #1. If you desire simplicity, stay with the cloud. My old system was to use Dropbox and let it keep copies of my files locally on my Windows, Mac, and Linux machines. I figured that was three copies and an off-site backup. That was an easy-to-live-with, simple backup solution. However, I only had 2TB of files, which Dropbox charged me $137 a year to maintain.

Moving to the UGreen DXP2800 meant accessing all my files from the single NAS drive. It’s cooler and quieter on my computers. However, I had to purchase two large external drives for my Mac and Windows machines that I use to automatically back up the NAS drive daily.

Thus, my initial cost to leave Dropbox was the cost of the DXP2800 and two 16TB Seagate drives for a RAID array ($850), plus $269 (20TB external drive). I already had an old 8TB external drive for the other backup. And if I want an off-site backup, I need to physically take one of my drives to a friend’s house, or pay a backup company $100-200 a year.

And I have more to back up now. I was running Plex on my Mac using a 4TB SSD. Basically, I ripped a movie when needed. Since I got the UGreen DXP2800 and 12TB of space, I’ve been ripping all my movies and TV shows that I own on DVD and Blu-ray. I’ve ripped about half of them, and I figure I’ll use up 8-10TB of my RAID drive space.

I’ve been working for weeks ripping discs. I had no idea we had accumulated so many old movies and TV shows over the last thirty years. Susan and I had gotten tired of using a DVR/BD player, so we shelved all those discs on a neglected bookcase and subscribed to several streaming services.

When I bought the UGreen DXP2800, I thought we could cancel some of our subscriptions. We are viewing our collection via Jellyfin, but we haven’t canceled any streaming services.

I should finish the disc ripping in another couple of weeks. At least I hope. It’s a tedious process. My fantasy is having this wonderful digital library of movies and television shows we love, and we’ll rewatch them for the rest of our lives. I even fantasized about quitting all our streaming services. But I don’t think that will happen.

Looking at what TV shows Susan and I watched during 2025, none were from our library. Susan has started rewatching her old favorite movies. She especially loves to watch her favorite Christmas movies every year. And I have talked her into watching two old TV shows I bought on disc years ago, The Fugitive and Mr. Novak. Both shows premiered in 1963, and neither is on a streaming service.

Lesson #2. It would taken much less effort to just watch the shows on disc. And when I’ve converted them, I will have 10TB of data that I must protect. It’s a huge burden that hangs over my head.

Lesson #3. I tried to save money by using the free MakeMKV program. It works great, but creates large files and is somewhat slow. I eventually spent $40 for WinX DVD Ripper for Mac. It’s faster and creates smaller .mp4 files. However, it doesn’t rip BD discs. I found another Mac program that will, but it will cost another $49. I bought a $39 program for the PC to rip Blu-ray discs, but it was painfully slow. They claimed to have a 90-day money-back guarantee, yet the company ignored my request to return my money. It pisses me off that there are several appealing ripping programs I’d like to try, but they all want their money up front. Most offer a trial that will run a 2-minute test. That’s not enough. I’m happy with WinX DVD Ripper for Mac; I just wish it ripped Blu-rays.

Even then, files that are ripped from Blu-ray movies are huge and take much longer to rip. I’m not sure Blu-ray is worth it.

I tend feel movies and TV shows look better on streaming services. Most people won’t notice. My wife doesn’t see the difference between DVD and BD. For ripping, I prefer DVDs.

Lesson #4. I bought the UGreen NAS even though I wanted a Synology NAS. UGreen just had better hardware. I thought I wanted to get into Docker containers, and UGreen had the hardware for that at the price I wanted to pay. However, setting up Docker containers requires a significant amount of Linux savvy.

I kind of wish I had gotten Synology. It runs many programs natively, so you don’t have to mess with Docker. I hope UGreen will do more of that in the future. I spent days trying to get the YACReader server running. I never succeeded. That was frustrating because I really want it.

There are many services I’d like to run, but I just don’t have the Docker and Linux skills.

Final Thoughts

I’m not sure I would buy a NAS, knowing what I know now. However, if I could figure out how to run programs via Docker, I might go whole hog on NASes. In which case, I would regret getting the 2-drive DXP2800. At first, I thought I’d be good getting two 8TB drives to put into RAID. But I spent more for two 12TB drives, just in case. If I really get into having a home lab, I should have bought the 4-drive DXP4800 Plus.

There are many features I wish UGreen would offer for its software. If all the programs I wanted to run ran natively on the UGreen OS and were easy to use, I think I would love having a NAS.

Setting up file sharing was easy. I got it working on my Mac, Windows, Linux, Android, iPad, and iPhone. However, it’s hard to open files using the UGreen app on iOS and Android. I don’t know why UGreen just can’t make an all-purpose file viewer. Dropbox can open several file types on my iPhone. UGreen expects me to save the file to my iPhone and then view it with an iPhone app. However, I can’t get my iPhone apps to find where the UGreen app saved the file.

That’s why I want the YACReaderLibrary Server running on the DXP2800. I have YACReader running on every device. It can read .pdf, .cdr, .cdz, .jpg, .png, .tiff, and more. Too bad it doesn’t read Word and Excel files too. I think other Linux server apps can handle even more file types. I want my NAS to be a document server.

I’m moving forward with my NAS. If I fail, I’ll regret buying the NAS. Or, I might create a server full of useful apps that I can’t live without. That sounds fun, but it also sounds like it could become a lifelong burden.

JWH

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Jim and Susan’s TV Watching 2025

by James Wallace Harris, 1/5/26

Writing this essay is a challenge for my memory.

We criticize young people for their addiction to screens, but Baby Boomers were the first generation to embrace screens, the television screen. (Although I suppose the first generation to embrace a screen, the silver screen, could be those who grew up in the late 19th century, who went to silent movies.)

Baby Boomers, in the early part of our lives, watched TV according to the broadcast schedule. Later on, we experienced the immense variety of TV shows on cable channels, still tied to a schedule. The next technological marvel was the DVR, which freed us from needing to be in our La-Z-Boys at specific times. Then came Netflix discs. And then Netflix streaming. We could now binge on whole seasons of TV shows. Between DVDs, Blu-rays, streaming, YouTube, and the internet, we can practically watch anything that’s ever been on.

Susan and I have gone through several phases of TV watching in our 48 years of marriage. When we first got married, we both watched what each of us wanted to see because we did everything together. Slowly, our tastes verge. I watched what I wanted by myself, and she watched what she wanted by herself. A few years ago, we agreed to reunite our viewing. From 8pm to 10pm, we’re back to watching TV together.

I would like to watch movies, but Susan prefers TV shows. We both love watching a TV show from pilot to finale. Generally, we watch hour-long shows. One episode from one series, then one episode from another. When we’re really addicted, such as when we were going through the 15 seasons of ER, we’d watch two episodes a night.

At the end of 2025, and the beginning of 2026, we’re finishing up The Pallisers and just beginning The Fugitive.)

Getting old is getting strange. I would have sworn I wrote about our television watching twice in 2025. But it appears my last update was eighteen months ago. And, some of the shows I reviewed in that post are ones I thought we watched in 2025. Time is just blasting by.

For some reason, people like reading what we’re watching. I meant to post a regular report, but I’ve failed. So here’s what I can remember for 2025.

My friend Mike carefully logs everything that he and his wife, Betsy, watch. I’ve tried to do that many times, but I forget to upkeep the log after a few days. I wish I had Mike’s discipline.

It probably doesn’t matter that I remember when we watched a TV show, but I have a hangup regarding memory and time. TV shouldn’t even be that important in our lives; it’s just a diversion, isn’t it? I feel television, movies, books, and music as a connection with other people. A way to find common ground.

Watching two episodes a night means I should remember 730 episodes total. We had company on some nights, and for a couple of weeks, watched movies, so that number will be less. Still, if my memory works well, I should come close to 700 episodes.

ER

(1994-2009, 15 seasons, 331 episodes, Hulu)

ER is still quite compelling, and sometimes we’d watch two episodes in the evening and sneak in an extra one in the afternoon. Susan and I faithfully followed the show when it first aired. It’s good enough, I can imagine watching it again someday.

The Forsyte Saga

(2002, 2 series, 10 episodes, PBS)

I had heard that a new version of The Forsyte Saga was being produced in England, but I wasn’t sure when it would be shown in America. We’re still waiting. I talked Susan into watching an old version. I had seen it years ago. It’s still good.

The Pitt

(2025, 1st season, 15 episodes, HBO)

Because we loved ER so much, we signed up to HBO long enough to watch The Pitt. It was tremendous! We highly recommend it. We’re both looking forward to when season 2 starts, which is soon. I would watch season one again. That’s our highest recommendation.

All Creatures Great and Small

(2025, 5th series, 6 episodes, PBS)

If memory serves me well, and it seldom does, we started 2025 with All Creatures Great and Small season 5. We love that series. In a previous year, or the year before that, we watched the complete run of the original production of All Creatures Great and Small that came out in the 1970s, and then caught up on the new series. Season 6 should start soon. We’re also looking forward to it, too. I would watch both series again.

Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light

(2024, one series, 6 episodes, PBS)

I was surprised last year when Susan agreed to watch Wolf Hall, the first season of this series. Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light is an excellent historical drama, and watching the two seasons of this show makes me want to read the book. It seems we’ve found another common ground, history.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show

(1970-1977, 7 seasons, 168 episodes, no longer streaming)

I was disappointed with The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and I confess to bailing out at the end of the 6th season. Susan faithfully stuck with it until the end, but admitted that it wasn’t that good. The show has a great reputation and is often mentioned in TV histories. I even read Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted: And all the Brilliant Minds Who Made The Mary Tyler Moore Show a Classic by Jennifer Keishin Armstrong. The book was fascinating and made me admire the creators, writers, actors, and characters, but I never actually enjoyed the show.

Well, I loved looking at Mary Tyler Moore. That got me through six seasons. However, I talked Susan into trying The Dick Van Dyke Show, because I wanted to see more of Mary Tyler Moore. Susan couldn’t handle it. Some of the Dick Van Dyke shows were brilliant, but Susan and I were disappointed whenever the show involved a flashback to Rob’s military days or whenever the characters put on a show within a show.

Landman

(2024, 1st season, 10 episodes, Paramount+)

Susan refused to watch Landman, so I got my friend Anne to watch it with me. No matter how much Anne and I tried to convince Susan that this show was one of the best shows in years, Susan refused to watch it. The show is violent. Landman is blatant propaganda for the fossil fuel industry. But it’s hilarious!

Outrageous

(2025, 1 series, 6 episodes, Britbox)

I’ve read about the Mitford sisters before, so I knew what to expect with the miniseries Outrageous. We invited our friends Anne and Tony to watch this one with us. We had a lot of fun. If you want to know what they called this show, Outrageous, read my review of the books and shows I’ve watched about the Mitford sisters.

The House of Eliot

(1991-1994, 3 series, 34 episodes, Britbox)

We picked The House of Eliot because we both enjoy watching BBC period pieces. This one was only okay. I wouldn’t rewatch it. But it was fun enough. It made Susan and me discuss why we like watching certain shows again, especially shows like Downton Abbey, which we’ve watched several times. We agreed it’s the characters. The Eliot girls were only appealing enough for one viewing.

Unforgotten

(2015, 6 series, 36 episodes, Prime Video)

Normally, Susan and I don’t like police procedurals. However, Unforgotten and Broadchurch had settings and stories that didn’t feel like the traditional murder mystery.

Broadchurch

(2013-2016, 3 series, 24 episodes, Netflix)

Broadchurch was a gripping series we both looked forward to watching each night. I especially love Olivia Colman. The first season weirded me out because I felt like I knew the plot, but the characters and places felt wrong. I got on Google and discovered Gracepoint, an American adaptation of Broadchurch that I had watched without Susan years ago. It also starred David Tennant.

The Way We Live Now

(2001, 4-part miniseries, The Roku Channel)

The Way We Live Now is based on the 1875 Anthony Trollope novel of the same name. I enjoyed the book so much that I was excited to find the miniseries years ago. So watching it with Susan was a repeat for me. It held up to repeated watching. The story is about a Bernie Madoff-type swindler who runs a con in Victorian London. However, I was disappointed with how the miniseries portrayed Mrs Winifred Hurtle, an American woman who had a reputation for killing husbands. In the book, I was convinced she did kill husbands, but in the miniseries, the way the character was presented, I felt it was only a rumor. I liked how Mrs. Hurtle was more sinister in the book. It’s amusing how Trollope portrays Americans.

Bad Sisters

(2022-2024, two seasons, 18 episodes, Apple TV)

Evidently, Susan and I have a thing for comedy shows about women who kill. Last year, we loved watching the two seasons of Why Women Kill. Bad Sisters is another supposedly dark comedy, but I guess we’re both okay with murdering men who are big-time dicks, so it really didn’t seem that dark.

Death by Lightning

(2025, 1 season, 4 episodes, Netflix)

I really don’t know much about the presidents from the 19th century. Watching Death by Lightning made me want to read history books about all of them. This miniseries is about the assassination of James A. Garfield. It’s based on the book Destiny of the Republic by Candace Millard, which my friend Mike tells me is an excellent book. Last year, we watched Manhunt, a miniseries about the assassination of Lincoln. I wonder if next year, we’ll watch another historical film about the assassination of a president.

Pluribus

(2025, 1st season, 9 episodes, Apple+)

I’m shocked that Susan agreed to watch Pluribus. She absolutely refused to watch Breaking Bad, no matter how many friends swore that it was great. And Susan doesn’t like science fiction. We both like this show and were disappointed when the season ended. We are worried that it has the kind of mysterious plot that might lead to a Lost black hole of a plot.

Adolescence

(2025, 4-part miniseries on Netflix)

Now, Adolescence is dark. It’s also brilliant. It’s about a schoolboy who is accused of killing a female classmate, and the impact it had on his parents. If you’re prone to depression, don’t watch this one. However, each episode was filmed in one take, and the whole presentation was tremendously creative. The show was revealing about growing up in the 2020s. At one point, the cop investigating the murder is pulled aside by his son, who tells him to stop embarrassing himself. The dad asks why. The son tells him he interpreted all the evidence from social media messages completely wrong. That let us old folks watching the show know that words and language have completely changed. I highly recommend this one if you can handle the realism. (There is no graphic violence.)

The Pallisers

(1974, miniseries, 26 episodes, YouTube)

This miniseries is based on four main novels from Anthony Trollope’s Palliser novels. This 1974 production included material from two other Trollope novels that covered the same characters. This was the last series Susan and I watched in 2025; however, ten of the episodes ran into 2026.

We both liked this series. I had seen it before. Susan and I agree best on historical dramas, especially those based on classic books produced for Masterpiece Theater.

Memory Results

711 episodes total. I think this must be close to everything we watched in 2025.

JWH

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Ancient Christianities: The First Five Hundred Years by Paula Fredriksen

by James Wallace Harris, 12/39/25

Ancient Christianities by Paula Fredriksen is a scholarly work that chronicles the evolution of Christian theology over its first half millennium. I would say this book is not for the faithful, but for readers who enjoy studying history. Paula Fredriksen is an American historian and scholar of early Christianity. She held the position of William Goodwin Aurelio Professor of Scripture at Boston University from 1990 to 2010. If you are considering reading Ancient Christianities, I highly recommend following the link to her name. Fredriksen has published several books on Jesus, Paul, early Christianity, and St. Augustine that I want to read.

I will not review Ancient Christianities; for that, I recommend reading Joseph Foltz’s review in Ancient Jew Review (May 14, 2025). Instead, I’m going to describe why I read this book.

I believe we are all brainwashed as children by our parents, family, teachers, peers, and churches. We can’t recall how we acquired our foundational beliefs because they were imprinted at a time when we understood little about reality. These beliefs are recorded so deeply in our minds that we seldom examine them. The amount of work it takes to explore this area of our personality is too great for most people.

There is a fascinating parallel between dredging up personal memories from our early minds and studying the history of the early formation of Christian theology. It’s impossible to know anything for sure about either. However, working with memory and history can be enlightening.

I gave up religion back in the mid-1960s, but I’ve never been able to erase everything that going to church as a child put in my head. However, I’ve always felt kindly towards the person we call Jesus. I assumed he discovered a new way of seeing the world that was more compassionate than was common over two thousand years ago.

Over the years, I’ve read many books by historians trying to discover who Jesus was and what he taught. I’ve concluded it is impossible to know what Jesus believed or preached, and Ancient Christianities only confirms this conclusion.

If you study all the various sects of Christianity and all its theologians, you will not find one common denominator. Whatever Jesus believed, it’s been obscured by thousands of new opinions. Some scholars claim that Jesus might not have existed at all, but was created to promote specific concepts. But we can’t even identify the first creator of Jesus, because the idea of Jesus has been recreated countless times over the last two thousand years.

Because Jesus didn’t write down his philosophy, we can’t say for sure what it was. The earliest writings about Jesus come from Paul, but we can’t trust them because Paul didn’t know Jesus. Paul wrote letters about Jesus twenty years after Jesus died. He says very little about Jesus the man. But that’s like you writing about someone you heard about who died in 2005.

The authors of Matthew, Mark, and Luke wrote decades later and told different stories about Jesus that don’t always match up. That’s like writing about someone you heard about who died in 1980.

The author of the Gospel of John wrote even later and went full gonzo on the story of Jesus.

Paul Fredriksen recounts how many other men wrote stories about Jesus in the following four hundred years. Everyone made something new up. And some of their ideas involve concepts as far out as those imagined by science fiction writers.

Ancient Christianities is about endlessly reinventing Jesus over five hundred years. Those ideas are so ancient, so deep in our collective unconsciousness, that they are like ideas that we acquired when we were four, and dwell in the darkness of our unconscious minds.

Every theologian and every historian has their own theory about Jesus’ identity. All we can do is pick the one we like the best, but we can never know.

I’ve always wanted to believe Jesus was the guy who came up with the ideas in the Sermon on the Mount. I’m not so sure anymore. I’m currently leaning towards the idea that Jesus was a radical who wanted to overthrow the system. It’s not hard to picture him talking like the hotheads on the internet with big ideas. And that the Sermon on the Mount came from a later storyteller.

There’s a wonderful book, The Five Gospels: The Search for the Authentic Words of Jesus. It’s based on the Jesus Seminar, where, over a decade, theologians and historians debated which passages in red in the New Testament were said by the historical Jesus. The Five Gospels is based on voting, and the results are color-coded. Even among experts, there is no complete agreement. We tend to advocate for what we want to believe. Confirmation bias is powerful.

Books like Ancient Christianities help us understand how commonly believed concepts evolved from specific people. (By the way, it’s all men.)

If you read enough history books about religion, you realize there is no divinity anywhere to be found. It’s all concepts created by men. Like the famous story by Carl Sagan, it’s turtles all the way down.

JWH

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THE ANTIDOTE by Karen Russell

by James Wallace Harris, 12/27/25

There are some conservative Republicans who wish to censor history by forgetting events in America’s past. They worry that such history could make their children feel bad about themselves. They want to remember a past that makes America look great again. Please read Donald Trump’s executive order regarding this issue.

Karen Russell’s latest novel, The Antidote, philosophises why we need to remember everything, even things our ancestors did that make America look bad. Russell uses fantasy to educate us about reality. When my friend Annie first recommended that we read this novel together, the fantasy elements turned me off. As a life-long science fiction reader, I was in the mood to read realistic fiction for a change. The older I get, the more I want nonfiction, but I can’t give up fiction completely.

Throughout the first half of The Antidote, I was annoyed with all its fantastic elements. However, I eventually realized that Russell was using them as a plot device to get her readers to contemplate real history. Eventually, I felt Russell had read a great deal of American history that disturbed her, and she was using her novel to come to grips with why we shouldn’t forget that which many want to erase from American history books.

Memory is the main theme of this novel. Both personal memories and historical memory.

The Antidote makes a case against five crimes our ancestors committed. These tragic deeds explore the dimensions of greed. Each of these historical atrocities has been well-documented in nonfiction books I’ve read over the years. Reading the novel made me ask: Which has more impact, fiction or nonfiction? Listening to The Antidote made me feel closer to the suffering.

How many books have you read that deal with these historical events? Did you learn more from reading fiction or nonfiction?

How did we take land from the Native Americans?
How did we force Native Americans onto reservations and attempt to reeducate them with our culture and values?
How did poor farming practices cause the environmental catastrophe of the Dust Bowl?
How did we institutionalize unwed mothers and steal their babies?
How do we allow the murders of women to go uninvestigated and underreported?

The Antidote is primarily set in the fictional town of Uz, Nebraska, in 1935, between two significant real events, the Black Sunday dust storm (April 14, 1935) and the Republican River flood (May 31-June 1, 1935). The story is told sequentially, but with flashbacks. We hear the story told from many voices. Four primary characters: The Antidote (Antonina Rossi, AKA, the Prairie Witch), Asphodel Oletsky (Del), Harp Oletsky (Del’s uncle), and Cleo Allfrey (photographer), along with two significant secondary characters, a cat and a scarecrow.

Antonina, a middle-aged woman, had been institutionalized at age 15 for being an unwed mother. Her son had been forcefully taken away from her. She makes her living as a vault, or prairie witch. Antonina can enter a trance while another person relates a memory they wish to forget. That process will erase the memory from the teller’s mind and store it in hers. Antonina gives them a written receipt that will trigger that memory, and she can reinstate it at a future time. Antonina does not remember what she vaults. She is paid for this service, but her clients consider her no better than a prostitute.

Asphodel “Del” Oletsky, a fifteen-year-old girl, just five feet tall, is the captain of Uz’s high school girls’ basketball team. Her mother was murdered when she was young, and she lives with her uncle Harp Oletsky. Cleo is a young black woman who travels the country documenting the depression for FDR’s government. The plot of the novel eventually brings them all together.

The novel begins with a roundup of jack rabbits and clubbing them to death. My father was born in Nebraska and was Del’s age in 1935. He told me stories about how the farmers would exterminate the jack rabbits. My mother also went to high school around this time and played basketball. My grandmother was on a basketball team in Indiana at the turn of the century.

My memories immediately made me connect with the story. We remember the good ones, but forget the bad ones.

The story then goes into catching a serial killer of young women. The sheriff even connects the killer to Del’s mother’s cold case. This murder mystery is the apparent backbone of the plot, but it’s not the real story.

The Antidote immediately triggered a memory of an article I recently read, “The Nurse Who Names the Dead” by Christa Hillstrom. The article was about Dawn Wilcox, who created a database to track the number of men killing women. She discovered that femicide goes vastly underreported. One of the truths of Russell’s novel is that she’s writing about evils that have always existed. Can we ever break the cycle?

Dust and evil color this novel with darkness. I listened to the audiobook edition, and it felt like I was watching an old black-and-white movie. I’d call it noir magical realism.

I admit, I had to push myself to keep listening for the first half of this book. I was just put off by the fantasy elements. But the characters grew on me. And by the middle of the story, I was hooked. The last half of the book often made me teary-eyed. For most of the novel, I felt Russell was too writerly, but when Harp gives his big speech near the end, I must say I was quite impressed with the writing and the description of the riot and storm.

Throughout this story, I kept thinking about the Oz books by L. Frank Baum. Uz almost sounds like Oz. Plus, the story has a tornado and a talking scarecrow.

I wanted to connect the elements of this story with all the nonfiction books I’ve read that back up its fictional history. Especially, The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Timothy Egan, plus the Ken Burns’ documentary, The Dust Bowl. However, I can’t remember where I read about the other issues in this book. My mind is getting old and tired.

My friend Linda and I often talk about how humans repeat the same crimes throughout history. In recent months, we’ve focused on how greed is the primary driver of evil. As you read The Antidote (if you do), think about how greed motivates people to do what they do. We’re all greedy to a degree, and that might be a survival mechanism, but there seems to be a point when more greed makes us evil. I see that everywhere.

I’m also watching The American Revolution by Ken Burns. It brings up many things that some Republicans would like the world to forget. Like I said, we don’t change. But we should ask, what are we doing now that people in the future will wish to forget that we did?

The Antidote by Karen Russell was on 11 best-books-of-the-year lists for 2025.

JWH

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“Racing Mount Pleasant” by Racing Mount Pleasant

by James Wallace Harris

I discovered Racing Mount Pleasant while watching Best New Albums of 2025 – Ranked by Katie from Cordes Records in Australia. She inspired me to watch other YouTubers report on their favorite new albums of 2025. I’ve collected all their recommendations into a Spotify playlist “2025 Albums to Try.”

Of all the albums I’ve tried, Racing Mount Pleasant is my favorite. It’s by a group, Racing Mount Pleasant. To make it even more confusing, my favorite song on this album is “Racing Mount Pleasant.”

Racing Mount Pleasant currently has seven members and was formerly known as Kingfisher. According to Wikipedia, the lineup consists:

Sam DuBose – vocals, guitar
Callum Roberts – trumpet
Connor Hoyt – alto saxophone
Samuel Uribe Botero – tenor saxophone
Kaysen Chown – strings
Tyler Thenstedt – bass, vocals
Casey Cheatham – drums, vocals

I’m currently obsessed with their song “Racing Mount Pleasant.” Phil Spector was famous for producing a Wall of Sound back in the 1960s. Spector got this sound by using a rotating lineup of over two dozen studio musicians, now known as the Wrecking Crew.

I mention this because Racing Mount Pleasant feels like a rock orchestra. I love their sound, especially the song “Racing Mount Pleasant.” You can hear the album version on YouTube:

I love this song. I’ve been playing it over and over for weeks. I used it as a test song for my review of the Fiio K13 R2R DAC. However, as I listened to the music played through five different DACs using three different sound systems, I was amazed by the diverse textures the instruments made. I wanted to know which instruments produced which sounds. That’s when I began researching the song and found out the band had seven members. But what really helped was finding this video of the band playing “Racing Mount Pleasant.”

I loved this album so much that I bought it on vinyl. That’s rare for me. I might even get it on CD. The music is so dense that it feels like it’s coming from a giant orchestra. The band plays at a relentless pace, projecting a sense of joy.

Most of my fellow baby boomers are stuck in the past musically. Most of the time, so am I. But for some reason, a few of us have stayed on the trail, hoping to find new artists. Discovering Racing Mount Pleasant is one of those discoveries that makes trying all those thousands of albums over the past seven decades pay off.

JWH

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DAC Compare: Fiio K13 R2R vs. Geshelli J2 vs. AudioLab 6000A

by James Wallace Harris, 12/20/25

On the surface, this essay might appear to be about audio equipment, but it’s really about wants and desires, perception and marketing, the limits of our senses.

A DAC is a Digital-to-Analog converter. Most people own several, even though they might be unfamiliar with the acronym. They are critical to audiophiles because they determine how well digital files are recreated as analog sound in your amplifier and speakers.

For most music listeners, the DAC is built into their computers, smartphones, amplifiers, or CD players. Some audiophiles will spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on an external DAC, hoping to hear details in their music that are not produced by integrated DACs.

I’m not really an audiophile. Maybe I’m a half-ass audiophile. I do want to hear music in all its richness, but I just don’t want to spend the kind of bucks that audiophiles are willing to part with.

Some audiophiles are purists and shun digital recordings. They want vinyl records that were produced with analog equipment and to play their LPs on analog amplifiers. This route requires no DAC. I’ve spent a modest amount of money pursuing the analog sound, and it’s always been elusive. Watching YouTube videos from analog purists makes me think I’d find sonic greatness if I’d only shell out a few thousand dollars more.

On the other hand, other audiophiles who embrace digital technology claim that if you spend enough money, you will hear more details from every note and instrument, from a larger three-dimensional soundstage, and experience greater sonic textures and thrills.

For over a decade, I’ve been chasing three mirages. The first is analog sound, the second is high-resolution music, and the third is better DACs. I gave up on vinyl because it was never apparent that analog sounded superior to digital, even after much testing. I gave up on high-resolution music because it only sounded slightly better than CD quality, and only if I concentrated mightily hard. However, I’m still a sucker for DAC hucksters.

Since Covid, I’ve been hearing reviews of R2R DACs, and I’ve been hankering to own one. Unfortunately, R2R DACs were more expensive than the more common Delta-sigma DACs. Then Fiio came out with the K11 R2R headphone amp/DAC for $159. I thought I’d buy one and see if there really was a difference. Before I could pull the trigger, Fiio came out with the K13 R2R headphone amp/DAC for $320 that claimed to be even better. So I bought one for my birthday.

A couple of years ago, I purchased the Geshelli Labs J2 DAC with upgraded Sparkos SS3602 op-amps and AK4499 DAC because the Cheap Audioman had convinced me it was the best Delta-sigma DAC for under a $1000. (It was just over $500 with the upgrades, so I thought, what a bargain.)

I already owned an AudioLab 6000A because of Darko Audio. It has an ES9018K2M DAC. It sounded great to me, but watching audio equipment reviews online leaves a never-ending desire to explore those greater musical dimensions they claim they can hear.

When I got the Geshelli Labs J2, I thought I heard more detail. After a year, I became tired of having to get up to turn on the J2 before turning on my AudioLab 6000A with a remote. I removed the J2 and used the DAC in the AudioLab 6000A. I wasn’t really sure I could hear a difference anymore. I never could decide if the external J2 sounded better than the internal DAC of the 6000A.

But I kept listening to reviews. Many of my favorite reviewers went through countless DACs, apparently searching for audiophile nirvana. Some claimed that DACs costing $5000 or $10,000 would get me there.

Reviewers consistently claimed R2R DACs had the smooth sound of analog music, projecting larger soundstages. I felt the soundstage for the AudioLab 6000A was as large as my den, but then what did I know? Maybe it wasn’t.

I wasn’t willing to risk my retirement savings on a $5,000 DAC. Some reviewers were honest enough to admit that those expensive DACs didn’t reveal their riches unless your amplifier and speakers also cost at least $5,000.

I decided I just had to hear an R2R DAC to see if I could actually hear a difference, so I bought the Fiio K13 R2R.

To be honest, I was disappointed with what I heard using it as a K13 R2R headphone amp. The music sounded far more exciting through my Sennheiser 560S headphones and Fiio K5 Pro headphone amplifier. The music presented by the K13 was very nice, but it was missing all those exciting details I heard from the ESS Sabre DAC of the K5 Pro.

I’m not unhappy with the K13. Its smooth sound, especially on female vocals, is quite pleasant. However, for headphone listening, I especially enjoy the details.

I then hooked up the K13 and J2 to the AudioLab 6000A’s analog inputs. I also compared the sound from the AudioLab 6000 CD transport using its internal DAC. The R2R DAC did sound smooth and pleasant. And I’ve been enjoying it for days. It’s just fine, but I don’t think I’m an R2R person after all.

Here’s the thing: there are differences between the three DACs, but do they really matter? My bedroom stereo, using a Bluesound Powernode 2i and Klipsch RP-5000F speakers, sounds the richest, most detailed, and dimensional of all my systems. However, I think that’s due to the room. My main stereo is in the den. It doesn’t have a back wall, because it opens into a dining area and kitchen. One wall is floor-to-ceiling glass, and the other two walls have wrap-around windows near the ceiling.

I’m sure the rooms make a bigger difference than the DACs. And I imagine the Polk Reference Series R-500 speakers sound different from the Klipsch.

For years, my only source of music was a clock radio. It had only one speaker. It was no larger than three inches in diameter. I loved that radio, and the music I first heard on it from 1962 to 1968 has stuck with me my whole life.

The most excitement I got from listening to music this year wasn’t from the equipment, but from consciously trying new music I hadn’t heard before that was created in the last ten years. Spotify estimated my age from the music I played to be 28.

I do know the DAC in my $89 Wiim Mini sounds bad. But it seems any DAC costing over $200, despite its technology, sounds pretty damn good. Maybe if I spent more than $2000, I would hear a difference, but would it be a night-and-day difference? I don’t know. Unless I win a mega lottery, I ain’t going to find out.

In my testing, playing a CD through the AudioLab 6000A sounded the best by far. But I’m not ready to go back to CDs.

I think watching audiophile reviewers on YouTube is making me dissatisfied with my equipment. I have to wonder if the differences they hear are really psychological or physiological?

I’ve found that what makes the biggest difference is volume. Listening at 85 decibels makes my stereo systems sound great. At 85 decibels, I hear more details with a larger soundstage by using any of my DACs.

After that, convenience matters. Audiophiles claim that separate components sound better than all-in-one units. Calling up albums on my phone via Spotify is just too damn convenient. Powering on with a remote is too damn convenient. I wish I could power up my integrated amplifiers with my iPhone and ditch the remote.

My advice. Spend a middling amount on an integrated system and play it loud.

JWH

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Past-Present-Future As It Relates to Fiction-Nonfiction-Fantasy-SF

by James Wallace Harris, 12/12/25

I’ve been contemplating how robot minds could succeed at explaining reality if they didn’t suffer the errors and hallucinations that current AIs do. Current AI minds evolve from training on massive amounts of words and images created by humans stored as digital files. Computer programs can’t tell fiction from fact based on our language. It’s no wonder they hallucinate. And like humans, they feel they must always have an answer, even if it’s wrong.

What if robots were trained on what they see with their own senses without using human language? Would robots develop their own language that described reality with greater accuracy than humans do with our languages?

Animals interact successfully with reality without language. But we doubt they are sentient in the way we are. But just how good is our awareness of reality if we constantly distort it with hallucinations and delusions? What if robots could develop consciousness that is more accurately self-aware of reality?

Even though we feel like a being inside a body, peering out at reality with five senses, we know that’s not true. Our senses recreate a model of reality that we experience. We enhance that experience with language. However, language is the source of all our delusions and hallucinations.

The primary illusion we all experience is time. We think there is a past, present, and future. There is only now. We remember what was, and imagine what will be, but we do that with language. Unfortunately, language is limited, misleading, and confusing.

Take, for instance, events in the New Testament. Thousands, if not millions, of books have been written on specific events that happened over two thousand years ago. It’s endless speculation trying to describe what happened in a now that no longer exists. Even describing an event that occurred just one year ago is impossible to recreate in words. Yet, we never stop trying.

To compound our delusions is fiction. We love fiction. Most of us spend hours a day consuming fiction—novels, television shows, movies, video games, plays, comics, songs, poetry, manga, fake news, lies, etc. Often, fiction is about recreating past events. Because we can’t accurately describe the past, we constantly create new hallucinations about it.

Then there is fantasy and science fiction. More and more, we love to create stories based on imagination and speculation. Fantasy exists outside of time and space, while science fiction attempts to imagine what the future might be like based on extrapolation and speculation.

My guess is that any robot (or being) that perceives reality without delusions will not use language and have a very different concept of time. Is that even possible? We know animals succeed at this, but we doubt how conscious they are of reality.

Because robots will have senses that take in digital data, they could use playback to replace language. Instead of one robot communicating to another robot, “I saw a rabbit,” they could just transmit a recording of what they saw. Like humans, robots will have to model reality in their heads. Their umwelt will create a sensorium they interact with. Their perception of now, like ours, will be slightly delayed.

However, they could recreate the past by playing a recording that filled their sensorium with old data recordings. The conscious experience would be indistinguishable from using current data. And if they wanted, they could generate data that speculated on the future.

Evidently, all beings, biological or cybernetic, must experience reality as a recreation in their minds. In other words, no entity sees reality directly. We all interact with it in a recreation.

Looking at things this way makes me wonder about consuming fiction. We’re already two layers deep in artificial reality. The first is our sensorium/umwelt, which we feel is reality. And the second is language, which we think explains reality, but doesn’t. Fiction just adds another layer of delusion. Mimetic fiction tries to describe reality, but fantasy and science fiction add yet another layer of delusion.

Humans who practice Zen Buddhism try to tune out all the illusions. However, they talk about a higher state of consciousness called enlightenment. Is that just looking at reality without delusion, or is it a new way of perceiving reality?

Humans claim we are the crown of creation because our minds elevate us over the animals, but is intelligence or consciousness really superior?

We apparently exist in a reality that is constantly evolving. Will consciousness be something reality tries and then abandons? Will robots with artificial intelligence become the next stage in this evolutionary process?

If we’re a failure, why copy us? Shouldn’t we build robots that are superior to us? Right now, AI is created by modeling the processes of our brains. Maybe we should rethink that. But if we build robots that have a higher state of consciousness, couldn’t we also reengineer our brains and create Human Mind 2.0?

What would that involve? We’d have to overcome the limitations of language. We’d also have to find ways to eliminate delusions and hallucinations. Can we consciously choose to do those things?

JWH

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Am I Too Old To Start A Second Brain?

by James Wallace Harris, 12/8/25

For years now, I’ve been reading about people who create a second brain to record what they want to remember. Most of these second brain systems use software, but not all. Many base their ideas on the Zettelkasten system, which was originally stored on note cards.

Over the years, I’ve tried different methods and software applications. I’m currently learning Obsidian. I’ve used note cards, notebooks, Google Docs, Evernote, OneNote, InstaPaper, Recall, and others. I love reading – taking information in – but I don’t like taking notes.

The trouble is, information goes through my brain like a sieve. When I want to tell someone about what I’ve learned, or think I’ve learned, I can’t cite my source, or, for that matter, clearly state what I think I know. And I seldom think about how I’ve come to believe what I believe.

I’m currently reading False by Joe Pierre, MD, about how we all live with delusions. This book makes me want to rededicate myself to creating a second brain for two reasons. First, I want to take precise notes on this book because it offers dozens of insights about how we deceive ourselves, and about how other people are deceived and are deceiving. Second, the book inspires me to start tracking what I think I learn every day and study where that knowledge comes from.

One of the main ways we fool ourselves is with confirmation bias. Pierre says:

In real estate, it’s said that the most important guide to follow when buying a house and trying to understand home values is “location, location, location.” If I were asked about the most important guide to understand the psychology of believing strongly in things that aren’t true, I would similarly answer, “confirmation bias, confirmation bias, confirmation bias.”

Pierre explains how the Internet, Google, AIs, Social Media, and various algorithms reinforce our natural tendency toward confirmation bias.

Pierre claims there are almost 200 defined cognitive biases. Wikipedia has a nice listing of them. Wikipedia also has an equally nice, long list of fallacies. Look at those two lists; they are what Pierre is describing in his book.

Between these two lists, there are hundreds of ways we fool ourselves. They are part of our psychology. They explain how we interact with people and reality. However, everything is magnified by polarized politics, the Internet, Social Media, and now AI.

I’d like to create a second brain that would help me become aware of my own biases and fallacies. It would have been more useful if I had started this project when I was young. And I may be too old to overcome a lifetime of delusional thinking.

I do change the way I think sometimes. For example, most of my life, I’ve believed that it was important for humanity to go to Mars. Like Elon Musk, I thought it vital that we create a backup home for our species. I no longer believe either.

Why would I even think about Mars in the first place? I got those beliefs from reading dozens of nonfiction and fictional books about Mars. Why have I changed my mind? Because I have read dozens of articles that debunk those beliefs. In other words, my ideas came from other people.

I would like to create a second brain that tracks how my beliefs develop and change. Could maintaining a second brain help reveal my biases and thinking fallacies? I don’t know, but it might.

Doing the same thing and expecting different results is a common fallacy. Most of my friends are depressed and cynical about current events. Humanity seems to be in an immense Groundhog Day loop of history. Doesn’t it seem like liberals have always wanted to escape this loop, and conservatives wanted to embrace it?

If we have innate mental systems that are consistently faulty, how do we reprogram ourselves? I know my life has been one of repeatable behaviors. Like Phil Conners, I’m looking for a way out of the loop.

Stoicism seems to be the answer in old age. Is it delusional to think enlightenment might be possible?

JWH

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Create and Control Your Own Algorithm

by James Wallace Harris, 12/6/25

If you get your news from social media sites, they will feed you what they learn you want to hear. Each site has its own algorithm to help you find the information you prefer. Such algorithms create echo chambers that play to your confirmation bias. It becomes a kind of digital mental masturbation.

Getting information from the internet is like drinking from a firehose. I hate to use such a cliche phrase, but it’s so true. Over the past decade, I’ve tried many ways to manage this flow of information. I’ve used RSS feed readers, news aggregators, social media sites, browser extensions, and smartphone apps. I’m always overwhelmed, and eventually, their algorithms feed me the same shitty content that thrills my baser self.

I’ve recently tried to reduce my information flow by subscribing to just four print magazines: Harper’s, The Atlantic, The New Yorker, and New York Magazine. I’m still deluged with news. However, I’m hoping the magazine editors will intelligently curate the news for me and keep me out of my own echo chamber.

I’ve even tried to limit my news intake to just one significant essay a day. For example, “The Chatbot-Delusion Crisis” by Matteo Wong from The Atlantic was yesterday’s read. Even while trying to control my own algorithm, I’ve been drawn to similar stories lately — about the dangers of social media and AI.

Today’s article, “When Chatbots Break Our Minds,” by Charlie Warzel, features an interview with Kashmir Hill. In the interview, Hill refers to her article in The New York Times, “Chatbots Can Go Into a Delusional Spiral. Here’s How It Happens.”

If I could program my own algorithm for news reading, one of the main features I’d hope to create is dazzling myself with news about important things I knew nothing about. I’d call such a feature Black Swan Reporting.

Another essential feature I’d want in my algorithm, I’d call Your Full of Shit. This subroutine would look for essays that show me how wrong or delusional I am. For example, for us liberals, we were deluded in thinking our cherished ideals made most Americans happy.

Another useful feature would be Significant News Outside the United States. For example, I listened to a long news story in one of my magazines about how Australia will soon enact a law that bans children under 16 from having social media accounts. This is a significant social experiment I hadn’t heard about, and one that other countries will try in 2026. None of my social media feeds let me know, but then maybe they want to keep such experiments secret.

Mostly, I’d want my algorithm to show me Important Things I Don’t Know, which is the exact opposite of what social media algorithms do.

However, I might need to go beyond one article a day to keep up with current events. That risks turning up the feed to fire hose velocity. How much news do we really need? I’m willing to give up an hour a day to one significant news story that’s educational and enlightening. I might be willing to give up another hour for several lighter but useful stories about reality.

I hate to admit it, but I doom scroll YouTube and Facebook one to two hours a day because of idle moments like resting after working in the yard or waking up in the middle of the night. And their algorithms have zeroed in on my favorite distractions, ones that are so shallow that I’m embarrassed to admit what they are.

The whole idea of creating a news algorithm driven by self-awareness is rather daunting. But I think we need to try. I’m reading too many stories about how we’re all damned by social media and AI.

I’m anxious to hear what kids in Australia do. Will they go outside and play, or will they find other things on their smartphones to occupy their time? What if the Australian government is forcing a generation to just play video games and look at porn?

JWH

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Can Rereading THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ Help Me Remember What It Was Like to Be Ten Years Old?

by James Wallace Harris, 12/5/25

While watching Wicked, I struggled to recall the excitement I felt when I first read the Oz books at age 10 back in the summer of 1962. I wanted to know whether the fantasy world Wicked created matched the one L. Frank Baum created in his fourteen Oz novels.

The barrier to making this comparison is memory. Memories are highly unreliable. Plus, we overwrite our memories every time we recall them, so am I really remembering 1962, or just the last time I thought about reading the Oz books as a kid?

Like most of my brain excavations, I have to rely on logic and deduction instead. I also look for corroborating evidence. I spent many days on this problem, and here are my results.

The Oz books were the first novels I discovered on my own. For various reasons, I concluded this was the summer between the 5th and 6th grades. My family lived on base at Homestead Air Force Base, and I found the Oz books in the children’s wing of the base library. They were old and worn.

The first novel I remember is Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, which my mother read to me in the third grade. I started using libraries in the fourth grade, but read nonfiction books about airplanes, space travel, cars, and animals.

I remember roaming up and down the fiction section at the base library and discovering the Oz books. I had no idea who L. Frank Baum was, nor did I have any idea when they were written. I didn’t know about copyright pages or genres. I saw “Oz” on the spines and connected those books to the 1939 film, The Wizard of Oz, which I had seen on television every year since the 1950s.

I did not know the word fantasy. I doubt I understood the concept of fiction. In other words, these books were an exciting discovery. To compound that excitement, they were all set in the same fictional universe. They were my Harry Potter books. L. Frank Baum had tremendous world-building skills.

Analytically, I know that at ten, I didn’t know much about the world. My vocabulary was limited. And I was unaware of most concepts and abstractions. My previous beliefs in fantasy – Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy had caused me great embarrassment in first grade when a girl called me a baby for mentioning them. I was five, she was six.

In other words, I knew Oz did not exist, even though Baum created so many wonderful details to make it believable. I remember wanting Oz to exist, but I knew it didn’t. I don’t think I grasped the idea of fantasy at that time. All I knew was that the books created an artificial reality in my mind that was mesmerizing.

Watching Wicked and then rereading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz this week let me compare the two versions of Oz, but I couldn’t compare my initial reactions. Wicked is quite colorful, creative, and contains many elements of the original stories, but it no longer worked on me as the Oz books had in 1962. And that’s to be expected, since I’m 74, long past the age for fairytales.

My quest changed. I now wanted to know how my ten-year-old self saw the world. Rereading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz gave me very few clues.

My contemplations led me to some ideas, though. I have damn few memories of life before age five. I have zillions of memories dating from age five to twelve. I started thinking about them, and a revelation came to me.

Before age five, I theorize our minds are like LLMs (large language models). Those AIs can take in information and react to it, but they are unaware of the world. After five, but before puberty, we develop some self-awareness, but it’s very limiting. It isn’t until around twelve or thirteen that we start thinking for ourselves.

Here’s my main bit of evidence. As a child, my mother told me about God and took my sister and me to Sunday School and church. I just accepted what I was told. But when I was twelve, I started thinking about what they were telling me about religion. I didn’t buy it. I considered myself an atheist by 1964, when I was thirteen, maybe fourteen.

In my thirties, when I was working in a library, I came across an article that said that some librarians in the 1950s felt the Oz books gave children unrealistic expectations about life, and pulled the books from their shelves.

When I read that, I knew it had been true for me. The Oz books led me to science fiction, a genre that also inspired unrealistic expectations regarding the future that have proven to be unrealistic.

Here’s the thing: I was being told two fantasies at age ten. The first was from The Bible, and the second from the Oz books. Looking back, I see that my young self began to reject religion at age ten because I preferred the stories from L. Frank Baum. I wasn’t aware that I was comparing two fantasies; I just preferred one over the other.

Then I discovered science fiction. Concurrently, I was also discovering science. That gave me the illusion that science fiction was reality-based. When I consciously rejected religion, I thought I was choosing science. However, in recent decades, I’ve realized I had substituted science-fictional fantasies for religious fantasies.

I realize now that the Oz books had the power of Bible stories on me at age ten. The reason why so many people are true believers as adults is that they were programmed as children. Wicked doesn’t have that kind of power over me today. I can’t remember what that power felt like, but I do remember that for a few weeks in 1962, the ideas in the Oz books set my mind on fire. Rereading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz did not reignite that fire because I’m no longer a believer in anything.

I’ve often wondered if I hadn’t been lied to about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy, and thus had not experienced humiliation at discovering they were lies, and if I also hadn’t discovered Oz books, would I have accepted the Bible stories as truth as a kid and believed them now?

JWH

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Are Podcasts Wasting Our Time?

by James Wallace Harris, 11/16/25

While listening to the Radio Atlantic podcast, “What If AI Is a Bubble?,” a conversation between host Hanna Rosin and guest Charlie Warzel, I kept thinking I had heard this information before. I checked and found that I had read “Here’s How the AI Crash Happens” by Matteo Wong and Charlie Warzel, which Rosin had mentioned in her introduction.

Over the past year, I’ve been paying attention to how podcasts differ from long-form journalism. I’ve become disappointed with talking heads. I know podcasts are popular now, and I can understand their appeal. But I no longer have the patience for long chats, especially ones that spend too much time not covering the topic. All too often, podcasts take up excessive time for the amount of real information they cover.

What I’ve noticed is that the information density between podcasts and long-form journalism is very different. Here’s a quote, five paragraphs from the podcast:

Warzel: There’s a recent McKinsey report that’s been sort of passed around in these spheres where people are talking about this that said 80 percent of the companies they surveyed that were using AI discovered that the technology had no real—they said “significant”—impact on their bottom line, right?

So there’s this notion that these tools are not yet, at least as they exist now, as transformative as people are saying—and especially as transformative for productivity and efficiency and the stuff that leads to higher revenues. But there’s also these other reasons.

The AI boom, in a lot of ways, is a data-center boom. For this technology to grow, for it to get more powerful, for it to serve people better, it needs to have these data centers, which help the large language models process faster, which help them train better. And these data centers are these big warehouses that have to be built, right? There’s tons of square footage. They take a lot of electricity to run.

But one of the problems is with this is it’s incredibly money-intensive to build these, right? They’re spending tons of money to build out these data centers. So there’s this notion that there’s never enough, right? We’re going to need to keep building data centers. We’re going to need to increase the amount of power, right? And so what you have, basically, is this really interesting infrastructure problem, on top of what we’re thinking of as a technological problem.

And that’s a bit of the reason why people are concerned about the bubble, because it’s not just like we need a bunch of smart people in a room to push the boundaries of this technology, or we need to put a lot of money into software development. This is almost like reverse terraforming the Earth. We need to blanket the Earth in these data centers in order to make this go.

Contrast that with the opening five paragraphs of the article:

The AI boom is visible from orbit. Satellite photos of New Carlisle, Indiana, show greenish splotches of farmland transformed into unmistakable industrial parks in less than a year’s time. There are seven rectangular data centers there, with 23 more on the way.

Inside each of these buildings, endless rows of fridge-size containers of computer chips wheeze and grunt as they perform mathematical operations at an unfathomable scale. The buildings belong to Amazon and are being used by Anthropic, a leading AI firm, to train and run its models. According to one estimate, this data-center campus, far from complete, already demands more than 500 megawatts of electricity to power these calculations—as much as hundreds of thousands of American homes. When all the data centers in New Carlisle are built, they will demand more power than two Atlantas.

The amount of energy and money being poured into AI is breathtaking. Global spending on the technology is projected to hit $375 billion by the end of the year and half a trillion dollars in 2026. Three-quarters of gains in the S&P 500 since the launch of ChatGPT came from AI-related stocks; the value of every publicly traded company has, in a sense, been buoyed by an AI-driven bull market. To cement the point, Nvidia, a maker of the advanced computer chips underlying the AI boom, yesterday became the first company in history to be worth $5 trillion.

Here’s another way of thinking about the transformation under way: Multiplying Ford’s current market cap 94 times over wouldn’t quite get you to Nvidia’s. Yet 20 years ago, Ford was worth nearly triple what Nvidia was. Much like how Saudi Arabia is a petrostate, the U.S. is a burgeoning AI state—and, in particular, an Nvidia-state. The number keeps going up, which has a buoying effect on markets that is, in the short term, good. But every good earnings report further entrenches Nvidia as a precariously placed, load-bearing piece of the global economy.

America appears to be, at the moment, in a sort of benevolent hostage situation. AI-related spending now contributes more to the nation’s GDP growth than all consumer spending combined, and by another calculation, those AI expenditures accounted for 92 percent of GDP growth during the first half of 2025. Since the launch of ChatGPT, in late 2022, the tech industry has gone from making up 22 percent of the value in the S&P 500 to roughly one-third. Just yesterday, Meta, Microsoft, and Alphabet all reported substantial quarterly-revenue growth, and Reuters reported that OpenAI is planning to go public perhaps as soon as next year at a value of up to $1 trillion—which would be one of the largest IPOs in history. (An OpenAI spokesperson told Reuters, “An IPO is not our focus, so we could not possibly have set a date”; OpenAI and The Atlantic have a corporate partnership.)

Admittedly, the paragraphs in the article are somewhat longer, but judge them on the amount of facts each presents.

Some people might say podcasts are more convenient. But I listened to the article. I’ve been subscribing to Apple News+ for a while now. I really didn’t use it daily until I discovered the audio feature. And it didn’t become significant until I began hearing major articles from The New Yorker, The Atlantic, and New York Magazine.

Whenever I listened to a podcast, including podcasts from those magazines, I was generally disappointed with their impact. Conversational speech just can’t compete with the rich informational density of a well-written essay. And once I got used to long-form journalism, the information I got from the internet and television seemed so damn insubstantial.

These magazines have spoiled me. I’m even disappointed with their short-form content. Over my lifetime, I’ve watched magazines fill their pages with shorter and shorter content. Interesting tidbits came to magazines long before the internet appealed to our ever-shortening attention spans.

As an experiment, I ask you to start paying attention to the length of the content you consume. Analyze the information density of what you read, either with your eyes or ears. Pay attention to the words that have the greatest impact. Notice what percentage of a piece is opinion and what percentage is reported facts. How are the facts presented? Is a source given? And when you look back, either from a day or a week, how much do you remember?

What do you think when you read or hear:

According to one estimate, this data-center campus, far from complete, already demands more than 500 megawatts of electricity to power these calculations—as much as hundreds of thousands of American homes. When all the data centers in New Carlisle are built, they will demand more power than two Atlantas.

Don’t you want to know more? Where did those facts come from? Are they accurate? Another measure of content is whether it makes you want to know more. The article above drove my curiosity to insane levels. That’s when I found this YouTube video. Seeing is believing. But judging videos is another issue, but that’s for another time.

JWH

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Reading With a Purpose

by James Wallace Harris, 11/12/25

I used to keep up with the world by watching NBC Nightly News with Lester Holt, reading The New York Times on my iPhone, and bingeing YouTube videos. I felt well-informed. That was an illusion.

I then switched to reading The Atlantic, New York Magazine, The New Yorker, and Harper’s Magazine. I focused on the longer articles and developed the habit of reading one significant essay a day. That has taught me how superficial my previous methods were at informing me about what’s going on around the world. Television, the internet, and newspapers were giving me soundbites, while articles provide an education.

However, I still tend to forget this deeper knowledge just as quickly. I don’t like that. I feel like I learn something significant every day. What I’m learning feels heavy and philosophical. However, it drives me nuts that I forget everything so quickly. And I’m not talking about dementia. I think we all forget quickly. Just remember how hard it was to prepare for tests back in school.

I’ve watched dozens of YouTube videos about study methods, and they all show that if you don’t put information to use, it goes away. Use it or lose it. I’ve decided to start reading with a purpose.

At first, I thought I would just save the best articles and refer to them when I wanted to remember. That didn’t work. I quickly forget where I read something. Besides, that approach doesn’t apply any reinforcing methods.

I then thought about writing a blog post for each article. It turns out it takes about a day to do that. And I still forget. I needed something simpler.

I then found Recall AI.

It reads and analyzes whatever webpage you’re on. Providing something like this for today’s article by Vann R. Newkirk II, “What Climate Change Will Do to America by Mid-Century:”

Recall allows me to save this into a structure. But again, this is a lot of work and takes a lot of time. If I were writing an essay or book, this would be a great tool for gathering research.

Recall is also great for understanding what I read. Helpful with quick rereading.

This morning, I got a new idea to try. What if I’m trying to remember too much? What if I narrowed down what I wanted to remember to something specific?

Within today’s article, the author used the term “climate gentrification” referring to neighborhoods being bought up because they were safer from climate change, and thus displacing poor people. The article mentions Liberty City, a poor neighborhood in Miami, with a slightly higher elevation, bought up by developers moving away from low-lying beachfront development.

I think I can remember that concept, climate gentrification. What if I only worked on remembering specific concepts? This got me thinking. I could collect concepts. As my collection grew, I could develop a classification system. A taxonomy of problems that humanity faces. Maybe a Dewey Decimal system of things to know.

I use a note-taking system called Obsidian. It uses hyperlinks to connect your notes, creating relationships between ideas. I could create a vault for collecting concepts. Each time I come across a new concept, I’d enter it into Obsidian, along with a citation where I found it. That might not be too much work.

I picked several phrases I want to remember and study:

Climate gentrification
Heat islands
Climate dead zones
Insurance market collapse
Climate change acceleration
Economic no-go zones
Corporate takeover of public services
Climate change inequality
Histofuturism
Sacrifice zones
Corporate feudalism

Contemplating this list made me realize that remembering where I read about each concept will take too much work. I have a browser extension, Readwell Reader, that lets me save the content of a web page. I could save every article I want to remember into a folder and then use a program to search for the concept words I remember to find them.

I just did a web search on “climate gentrification” and found it’s already in wide use. I then searched for “corporate feudalism,” and found quite a bit on it too. This suggests I’m onto something. That instead of trying to remember specifically what I read and where, I focus on specific emerging concepts.

Searching on “histofuturism” brought up another article at The Atlantic that references Octavia Butler: “How Octavia Butler Told the Future.” Today’s article by Vann R. Newkirk II is also built around Octavia Butler. This complicates my plan. It makes me want to research the evolution of the concept, which could be very time-consuming.

The point of focusing on key concepts from my reading is to give my reading purpose that will help me remember. But there might be more to it. Concepts are being identified all the time. And they spread. They really don’t become useful until they enter the vernacular. Until a majority of people use a phrase like “climate gentrification,” the reality it points to isn’t visible.

That realization reinforces my hunch to focus on concepts rather than details in my reading. Maybe reading isn’t about specific facts, but about spreading concepts?

JWH