Hollywood Sausage Factory

Quentin Tarantino has criticised contemporary Hollywood, calling it “a flavourless sausage factory”.

Writing in Sight and Sound magazine, Tarantino said that “since the pandemic … it seems almost impossible for a new movie to come out that I don’t pick to death”. He added: “Flaws, implausibilities, audience pandering, miscast performers or just plain stupid shit usually torpedoes every new movie coming out of the flavourless sausage factory that used to call itself Hollywood.” [...]

In his article, Tarantino dwelled at length on one current film he enjoyed – The Rip, directed by Joe Carnahan, currently on Netflix – and mentioned Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story and the Kevin Costner-directed Horizon: An American Saga Chapters 1 and 2 as recent films he liked. He went on to say that he had seen “nothing that really held me in its grip and swept me away to the magical land of enjoyment that I used to visit regularly and was the reason I loved movies above all other art forms. These days I’d rather read a book.”

by Andrew Pulver, The Guardian |  Read more:

Image: Noam Galai/Getty Images

[ed. Can't disagree. He's also known to have some other strong opinions:]

Trump Administration Continues Efforts to Dismantle Consumer Protection Agency

Consumer protection agency deletes thousands of pages as Trump administration seeks to dismantle it (The Guardian)

Last February, Trump appointed Russell Vought, White House budget director, as acting director of the CFPB. Vought was a key architect of Project 2025, which called for the abolition of the agency. He has since ordered CFPB employees to stop all work, dropped dozens of pending enforcement cases and tried to fire most of the agency’s staff, a move blocked by a federal judge in an ongoing lawsuit brought by the agency’s staff union. Recent court filings reveal agency leadership aims to reduce the agency’s headcount from 1,174 to 556. [...]

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau was created by Congress in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis to enforce federal consumer financial law, promote fair competition, protect people from deceptive or predatory financial products and compel companies to engage with consumers when they file complaints.

Since its inception, the bureau has returned more than $21bn to consumers through monetary compensation and canceled debts. A Democratic Senate banking committee report released this year found the Trump administration’s gutting of the bureau and moves to rescind industry regulations have already cost consumers billions in the past year.

by Amy Qin and Flávio Pessoa, The Guardian | Read more:
Image: Guardian Design/Getty Images
[ed. ... and the hits keep coming. See below. Until his supporters say enough is enough, we and they will continue to get screwed. The most relevant question now is if it's even possible to ever recover. Always easier to destroy than to create. See also: Why are US consumers so angry? It’s not just high prices (Guardian).]

Ocean Observatory Will Go Dark Under Trump Funding Cuts

A portion of one of the most ambitious ocean monitoring networks ever built will go dark this month when scientists board a research vessel and motor off the Oregon coast to pull a research buoy from deep out of the Pacific.

The buoy 80 meters (260 feet) below the water’s surface will be removed June 16 from the Ocean Observatories Initiative — a network of more than 900 ocean sensors built at a cost of $386 million that has continuously collected real-time data for more than a decade. But last month, the National Science Foundation announced it would dismantle most of the system, pulling instruments from waters off Oregon, Washington, Alaska, North Carolina and Greenland by 2027.

Funded by the foundation, the observatories have tracked everything from ocean circulation and marine ecosystems to climate change and extreme weather. Its data has been freely available and has informed more than 500 scientific publications. The project was slated to run for another 15 to 20 years.

In an emailed statement, the foundation said the decision is not a cancellation, but a “descoping” aligned with a “wider strategy of a nimbler approach to prioritize support for evolving scientific priorities and emerging technologies, as well as smart lifecycle management within its research infrastructure portfolio.” The foundation added that its decision drew in part on a 2025 National Academies report on the future of ocean science. [ed. There has to be some kind of annual award for worst word salad example. This would certainly qualify.]

But for the scientists who built and operated the system — and the researchers, educators and students who rely on its data — the timing feels particularly punishing.

An El Nino event, which disrupts weather patterns and supercharges marine heat waves, is predicted to arrive along the Pacific coast this summer. One marine heat wave is already pushing unusually warm water off California.

Without the Oregon and Washington moorings and the network of underwater gliders the Ocean Observatories Initiative operated in the region, researchers say they’ll lose much of their ability to measure what’s happening below the surface, which is precisely where the most significant oceanographic signals are.

“It’s a crippling loss of information,” Ed Dever, a professor at Oregon State University who helped lead the initiative’s Pacific Northwest operations, told The Associated Press Tuesday. Scientists can get some data from the surface, such as temperature and the distribution of chlorophyll, which drives photosynthesis in plants, but information below cannot be gathered from satellites alone, including low oxygen zones. [...]

The initiative operated on roughly $48 million a year, not including the cost of research vessels, which adds substantially to the overall price. Prior to budget cuts, which began in 2025, around 60 to 70 people worked directly on the project across its partner institutions, Dever said.

“What’s happening with the Ocean Observatories Initiative is not unique,” he said. “This is just one of a number of science facilities that is being dismantled at the present time. It seems to really mark the end of a federal commitment to basic scientific research — a commitment that has served this nation very well for the last 70 years.”

by Annika Hammerschlag, AP |  Read more:
Image: Darlene Trew Crist/Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution via AP

[ed. See also: How the 19th-Century Know Nothing Party Reshaped American Politics (Smithsonian):]

***

Like Fight Club, there were rules about joining the secret society known as the Order of the Star Spangled Banner (OSSB). An initiation rite called “Seeing Sam.” The memorization of passwords and hand signs. A solemn pledge never to betray the order. A pureblooded pedigree of Protestant Anglo-Saxon stock and the rejection of all Catholics. And above all, members of the secret society weren’t allowed to talk about the secret society. If asked anything by outsiders, they would respond with, “I know nothing.”

So went the rules of this secret fraternity that rose to prominence in 1853 and transformed into the powerful political party known as the Know Nothings. At its height in the 1850s, the Know Nothing party, originally called the American Party, included more than 100 elected congressmen, eight governors, a controlling share of half-a-dozen state legislatures from Massachusetts to California, and thousands of local politicians. Party members supported deportation of foreign beggars and criminals; a 21-year naturalization period for immigrants; mandatory Bible reading in schools; and the elimination of all Catholics from public office. They wanted to restore their vision of what America should look like with temperance, Protestantism, self-reliance, with American nationality and work ethic enshrined as the nation's highest values.

Los Lobos

[ed. The first rock concert I took my son to years and years ago was Los Lobos, performing as part of the Anchorage Concert Association's annual program schedule. He loved it, especially Cesar Rosas doing some mean slide guitar work with a beer bottle. But, after a while I noticed people began leaving, and after intermission, nearly a third if not more of the auditorium seats were empty. Can you believe it? Apparently it was just a little too much for the refined sensibilities of some seasonal ticket holders.]

tsukigi magazine covers

via:

Sake: It’s All in the Rice

The nuanced world of Japanese sake and how to pair it with food.

If your experience with sake is limited to the warm cup at your local sushi spot, you’re missing the larger world of sake, which is as nuanced and layered as wine.

The traditional Japanese drink is brewed (not distilled) from rice, yeast, water and koji, a mold that converts the rice starch into sugar. Premium sakes might add some distilled alcohol. Sometimes other ingredients are added for flavor, but purists stick to the essentials.

“It’s quite incredible to think of the variation in flavor sake provides, given these constraints,” says Yoko Kumano, who with Kayoko Akabori owns the shop Umami Mart in Oakland, California. The pair has written a new book, “Everyday Sake.”

She also likes to remind people that sake is a food-pairing beverage.

“It is meant to be enjoyed with food — and not just sushi,” Kumano says. Umami Mart’s monthly sake club has tried pairings with cheese, pizza, French cuisine and more.

Every batch of sake — which in Japan is called nihonshu — is overseen by a toji, or master brewer, whose skill shapes the final flavor.

Here are some quick sake facts so you can sound savvy about it at a restaurant or wine store.

It begins with rice

The first step in making sake is rice polishing, or seimaibuai. Each grain’s outer layers are milled away to reveal its starchy center. The more polished the rice, the lighter and more refined the sake; the less polished, the earthier the flavor. Sake also varies based on whether distilled alcohol is added and how it’s filtered, stored and served.

The two main families of sake are Junmai and Honjozo. Within those, you have grades like Ginjo and Daiginjo, reflecting how much the rice has been polished.

Grade names are on the label, though not necessarily the polishing ratio.

Junmai
Means “pure rice,” with no distilled alcohol added. These sakes range from light to full-bodied, and often have more umami and structure than other sakes. Think earthy, rice-forward flavors that pair beautifully with grilled meats or heartier dishes. Junmai is often served warmed or at room temperature, highlighting its comforting depth of flavor.

Honjozo
Contains a touch of distilled alcohol, which lightens the texture and enhances aroma without significantly changing the alcohol content. Smooth and versatile, it pairs with everything from tempura to sushi to teriyaki.

Ginjo
More delicate, made with rice polished down to 60% of its original size and fermented at lower temperatures. A bit of distilled alcohol may be added to enhance aroma. The flavor is often floral and fruity. Ginjo is best served chilled, and pairs well with lighter dishes like sashimi, sushi, salads and delicate seafood.

Daiginjo
The most extensively milled sakes, with at least 50% of the outer rice layers removed. The result is aromatic, delicate and often considered the highest-quality sake. Expect a higher price tag.

Nigori
Coarsely filtered, leaving some rice sediment (kasu) behind, giving it a milky appearance and slightly sweet, creamy texture. Its sweetness pairs especially well with spicy dishes.

Sparkling Sake
In recent years, sparkling sakes — some naturally carbonated, some artificially — have become popular as a festive touch to many occasions.

Nama
Kumano says Nama (unpasteurized sake) has been growing more popular, and appeals to people who like fresh, young beverages like Beaujolais Nouveau or fruity wheat beer. Make sure it’s refrigerated both at the store and at home.

Creative additions
Hirohisa Hayashi, chef-owner and sake sommelier at Hirohisa restaurant in New York City, makes different versions of plum sake each year. He steeps Washington State-grown plums in low-alcohol sake, sometimes with shiso (a minty herb) and, this year, Okinawan brown sugar.

Serving and storage tips

Ultimately, whether sake is served warmed, chilled or at room temperature is subjective. “In general, classic dry junmai sake is often said to become softer and more approachable when (slightly) warmed. On the other hand, if you warm a fragrant daiginjo, its delicate aromas and refined character can be lost,” says Hayashi.

Sake is best consumed within a year of bottling. Store it in a cool, dark place. Once opened, refrigerate and enjoy within a week. Unpasteurized sake (nama) must be refrigerated and consumed within a few days.

Finally, take a cue from Japan: Pouring for others and refilling their glasses before they’re empty is an act of hospitality and attentiveness. And don’t forget to clink glasses and say “Kanpai” (“Cheers”) before you sip.

by Katie Workman, AP |  Read more:

Image: Katie Workman

[ed. For more details, see also: Sake 101: A Beginners' Guide (Sake Hub):]

***

Koji
While the rest of the ingredients of sake are straight-forward, koji tends to trip up sake beginners. Koji, also known by its scientific name aspergillus oryzae, is a special mold. Koji helps break the rice starches into sugars to prepare for fermentation.

As important as both water and rice are for brewing sake, the sake production process can't get off the ground without koji.

The quality of koji also affects the sake's flavor profile immensely. That's why sake brewers take koji production (seigiku) itself so seriously.

The Home-Insurance Coin Flip: Nearly Half of Claims Result in Zero Payout

When disaster strikes, many Americans face a near flip-of-the-coin chance that their home insurer will pay a claim.

And the problem is getting worse. The five biggest home-insurers as a group didn’t pay out on more than 44% of claims resolved last year, forcing homeowners and renters to fund repairs out of their own pockets, an analysis by The Wall Street Journal found.

The risk that a claim will result in no payment among the group—State Farm, Allstate, Liberty Mutual, United Services Automobile Association and Farmers Insurance—shot up from 36% a decade earlier, according to the analysis.

Several factors are driving nonpayment rates higher, according to industry analysts and executives. Prime among them: Insurers are responding to a yearslong run of postpandemic losses in their home-insurance businesses by getting tougher on claims.

One way they have done this is to raise deductibles, or the amount the customer has to pay before the insurer kicks in. Some companies applied higher deductibles to specific risks such as hurricane and hail, and changed certain deductibles from a dollar value to a percentage of the value of a home. They have also set tighter criteria for claims on expensive items like roof replacements.

 
Consumers hit by rising premiums are themselves selecting higher deductibles to save money, insurers and consumer advocates say. This sets consumers up for disappointment when they put in for claims.

 
Home insurers pitch policies as a peace-of-mind financial safety net. But customers can find the apparent guarantee of compensation for disasters evaporates when they come to claim. [...]

A spokesman for USAA, whose unpaid claims ticked up to 51% from 49% a decade ago, said the Journal’s analysis was misleading because it lacks important context around why claims may be closed without payment. That includes losses below a deductible, claims not pursued by customers or claims later reopened and paid, he said. Considering those factors, fewer than 6% of USAA claims were denied, he added.

There are other drivers of the rise in claims closed without a payout. More frequent losses from disasters, in part driven by climate change and increased development in danger-prone areas, are also triggering more claims that aren’t covered by the policies, such as for flood damage, insurers say. [...]

Location has a big influence on the odds of no payment. Insurers in Florida had the highest rate of no payouts, affecting more than two in five homeowner claims in 2024, significantly higher than the 34% five-year average for the Sunshine State. Back-to-back hurricanes in 2024—Helene and Milton—likely drove up rejections as homeowners claimed for flood damage that wasn’t covered, insurers said.

The fallout from Hurricane Milton, when insurers declined payments on claims from more than 95,000 Floridian homeowners, shows the main reasons companies say no.
Heading the list: deductibles. Insurers have sharply increased the typical deductible amount in recent years, while often introducing separate—even higher—deductibles for wind and hail damage in high-risk areas.

by Jean Eaglesham and Jaclyn Jeffrey-Wilensky, Wall Street Journal |  Read more:

Image: WSJ

***

Steps to consider if you believe your claim has been denied unfairly include:

• Ask the insurance company for a letter setting out the reasons for the denial, and copies of their relevant documentation. Consumer group United Policyholders has a sample letter on its website.

• Collect any additional evidence you can to support your claim, such as photographs or reports from independent experts.

• File an appeal to the insurer: Instructions for doing this should be in the denial letter or policy document.

• If an appeal is denied, you can submit a complaint to your state insurance regulator.
• If you want outside help, consider asking a public adjuster or attorney if they will help fight your case. You can find a local public adjuster on The National Association of Public Insurance Adjusters website. Expect them to take a slice of any eventual payout.

Commodity Markets Are Living on Borrowed Time

• Governments and industry have softened the impact of energy and commodity supply disruptions by releasing reserves, reducing inventories, and increasing operational flexibility.
• These measures are temporary, and continued inventory drawdowns are pushing oil and metal markets toward historically tight conditions.
• Once inventories become critically low, higher prices may become the primary mechanism for balancing supply and demand, leading to weaker economic growth and lower consumption.

Commodity markets have spent the past three months performing an extraordinary balancing act. Despite one of the most significant disruptions to global energy flows in decades, the global economy has continued to function remarkably smoothly. After an initial spike, prices for several key commodities have stabilised or even eased. Yet this apparent calm is deceptive. The reason the system has held together is due to governments, producers and consumers drawing down the buffers that normally protect the global economy from disruption. Those buffers are now approaching dangerous limits.

Inventories are being depleted at a remarkable pace. Global oil stockpiles have fallen to levels that senior industry executives describe as unprecedented. Aluminium markets are facing a similar squeeze. Bloomberg recently calculated that combined stockpiles tracked by the London Metal Exchange, CME Group and the Shanghai Futures Exchange would cover less than five days of global supply.

The surprising resilience of commodity prices reflects the fact that the global economy has proved far more adaptable than many expected. Strategic reserves have been deployed on a large scale. The United States and Japan have both released oil from emergency stockpiles to cushion the loss of supply. American jet fuel output has reached record levels. Even China has managed to reduce crude imports without any obvious drawdown of its strategic petroleum reserves, which a recent report from the Oxford Institute for Energy Studies suggests is due to changing refinery yields and industrial flexibility. In effect, China has been extracting greater flexibility from its industrial system rather than relying solely on inventory releases.

All of these developments demonstrate a market responding exactly as economic theory would predict. When a critical input becomes scarce, producers seek substitutes, inventories are drawn down and existing capacity is pushed harder. These adjustments can be remarkably effective. They buy time. But time is ultimately what inventories represent. Every barrel released from a reserve, every tonne withdrawn from a warehouse, and every industrial workaround implemented today simply postpones the moment when supply and demand must once again be reconciled.

The US Strategic Petroleum Reserve is a case in point. The United States entered this crisis from a significantly weaker position than prior energy shocks. Having peaked at more than 700 million barrels in 2010, the SPR had already been reduced by roughly a third before the disruption in the Middle East began. Recent releases have helped stabilise markets, but they have done so by consuming the very buffer that exists to absorb future shocks. The critical question is not whether the SPR can technically be depleted. It cannot. The more important question is whether markets begin to doubt that policymakers possess sufficient reserves to continue cushioning disruptions indefinitely. Once that confidence disappears, the existence of barrels underground becomes less important than the perception that the shock absorbers are running out.

At some point, the arithmetic becomes unavoidable. The world cannot permanently consume more commodities than it produces. Strategic reserves can only be released once. Inventories can only be drawn down once. Refineries can only be reconfigured so far. Eventually, the familiar supply-and-demand framework begins to reassert itself, and a new equilibrium must emerge between available supply and desired consumption.

Demand destruction

Economists have a sanitised term for this process: demand destruction. The reality is more painful. Demand destruction occurs when prices rise to a level that forces consumers and businesses to reduce their consumption. Households spend more on fuel and less on everything else. Airlines reduce routes. Manufacturers delay investment. Energy-intensive industries curtail production. Consumption falls not because people choose to consume less but because higher prices leave them no alternative.

This is why inventory levels matter so much. As long as stockpiles remain available, markets can postpone the adjustment. Once they are exhausted, prices become the primary mechanism through which balance is restored. Neil Chapman, senior vice-president at ExxonMobil, recently described the situation with unusual candour. Oil prices, he argued, have remained relatively contained because inventories have been drawn down. Yet those inventories are now approaching levels rarely seen in modern markets. Once those buffers disappear, the economics change rapidly. As Chapman put it, “a model would say Brent will shoot up” towards $150 or even $160 per barrel.

Many governments will inevitably seek to shield consumers from the consequences. Price caps, subsidies and emergency fiscal packages are politically attractive when energy costs surge. Yet such measures do not eliminate the underlying economic loss. They merely redistribute it. If consumers are protected from higher prices, then taxpayers, bondholders or currency holders must absorb the cost instead.

When inventories become critically low, markets force a new equilibrium. And a new equilibrium in a poorer world means exactly what it sounds like: higher prices, lower consumption and lower living standards. The commodity markets are not forecasting a poorer world. They are enforcing one.

By Helen Thomas, City AM/Oil Price |  Read more:

Image: uncredited

The Loneliness of the Competitive Quizzer

Facts are funny things. It was a fact, for instance, that in the spring of 2024 I won $132,000 playing trivia. That May, I’d flown from Oxford, where I was a graduate student, across the Atlantic to a soundstage in Los Angeles, and played for eight good days on Jeopardy!

 

It was also a fact—one I liked to tastefully overlook when asked at holidays or on trips home—that I was unemployed, that I’d gone to Oxford for a master’s degree in large part to escape further unemployment. But I had been decent on Jeopardy!, and I knew that decent trivia players were often invited back for a second chance at more money. Returning to the show, however—for something like the Tournament of Champions or the Jeopardy! Invitational—meant facing tougher questions against better players. And it was a fact that, to prepare for this possibility, I would need to throw myself into the world of competitive trivia, or quiz.

Quiz is many things to the disciple. It is not simply trivia. It is not simply a hobby. It verges, for the believer, on a way of life. Originating out of Depression-era American radio quiz shows and really taking root in the UK in the 1970s, quiz is a species of especially rigorous trivia, with regimented online competitions and questions that tilt toward the obscure. Elite quizzers are known to prep for, at minimum, two or three hours a day, thumbing through hundreds of thousands of flashcards at rapid-fire pace. They participate in four or five leagues a week. This can be all-consuming, but it can also vault the elite quizzer into a rarefied echelon of erudition. These players have spent decades in the ceaseless memorization of facts and are nearer, maybe than anyone else in history, to the sum total of human knowledge.

Each year, the greatest quizzers from around the globe assemble at the International Quizzing Championships (IQC) to vie for glory. IQC is perhaps the most prestigious—and difficult—trivia tournament in the world. It features a battery of individual competitions, testing general and specialized knowledge, as well as an Olympic-style contest for national teams. The weekend-long event culminates with the Individual Quiz and Nations Cup finals, but also includes specialist quizzes (designed to test aptitude in specific subjects) and an Aspirational Cup (for those teams which didn’t make playoffs, but one day, perhaps, might). IQC might function as a social mecca for the obsessively curious, but it’s also armed with a caliber of brainpower that’d outgun much of the Ivy League. I wanted to meet these elite quizzers, to learn from them. And deep down, I wanted to win.

by Drew Basile, The Baffler |  Read more:

Image: © Arnaud Aubry

Kobayashi Kiyochika
A whale and three fish sitting down to a formal dinner of Russian sailors, 1904 or 1905

via:

“My Weekend as a 28-year-old in Chicago

[ed. Mental Awareness Day. Pretty dope.] 

The Satisfying Downfall Of Patrón

[ed. Yay. Over-hyped, overpriced, nothing special.]

The Most 2020s Art Ever Made

Five years ago, Bo Burnham released Inside on Netflix to near-universal acclaim. Inside is a fantastically rich comedy special and probably the single best piece of content made about the COVID-19 pandemic in any medium.

But looking back at it five years later, Inside feels like more than just a very good comedy set, more than just a statement about the pandemic. It feels, if you’ll forgive the pun, special.

It’s always a risk to call a race before we’ve reached the finish line, but with some trepidation, I’ll take that chance: Even though the decade isn’t over yet, the 2020s already have their definitive piece of art. And we got it in 2021.

A definitive piece of art needs to embody the main trends of its time. Its strengths and flaws should be the quintessential strengths and flaws of its era. It should ideally anticipate the trajectory society is headed in. And it hopefully has something meaningful to say about the technological, social, and cultural currents people are navigating.

Inside does all of these things better than anything else produced this decade. [...]

Inside Bo Burnham

Bo Burnham catapulted to fame the way everyone catapults to fame these days: social media. In 2006, he was one of YouTube’s earliest viral creators, and his trajectory from awkward internet teen to global comedy star was essentially a straight line upward.

Hailed as a comedy prodigy, he toured internationally, appeared on Comedy Central, and released an EP all before turning 18. At 23, he released his second comedy special/album what. as an hour-long Netflix feature to widespread acclaim, then at age 25, released his third special Make Happy to even more widespread, near-universal critical praise.

But at the height of his success, Burnham began to have panic attacks on stage and for several years stopped performing live altogether.

During this time, he experimented with other work, acting in Emerald Fennell’s Promising Young Woman and directing his own film Eighth Grade. After the pandemic began in 2020, Burnham decided to work around his anxiety by upending the traditional live comedy format and creating a “comedy special” that was filmed in a single room with no audience.

Like so much art in the digital age, it’s difficult to perfectly categorize Inside. It’s a comedy special and it’s an album. It’s fictional, autobiographical, and autofictional all at once.

At times, Inside has the feel of a documentary or a behind-the-scenes making-of featurette. It was made for Netflix, but it was also clearly built for the social internet, designed to be chopped up for consumption on YouTube, TikTok, Spotify, and other platforms.

Like much of today’s independent media, Inside is an auteur production where Burnham acts as the writer, director, editor, and performer all at the same time. It’s a shapeshifting, genre-bending work that challenges your expectations for what a comedy special can be.

Inside is framed around Burnham’s experiences during the COVID pandemic, the single most important event of the long 2020s. While Inside never once explicitly mentions the pandemic, it’s a film about all the ways COVID transformed our relationship with technology and one another.

Burnham is uniquely well suited to diagnose the ways in which the internet has changed us all, as someone who was raised online and whose stardom was born there. The opening number is deliberately grating as Burnham croons about “content”:

Look I made you some content
Daddy made you your favorite, open wide
Here comes the content
It’s a beautiful day to stay inside

Burnham mocks the online world where every attempt at art, commentary, humor, and dialogue is flattened into the grotesque “content,” but he also helped create that world and now finds himself trapped in it.

The word “content” appears frequently throughout the special, acting as a kind of brain-rotted leitmotif. In one unsettling interlude, Burnham appears as a YouTuber, saying “Thank you for watching my content!” while cheerily wielding a knife. “Keep watching, ‘cause there’s a lot more content where that came from.” he chirps, waving the knife at me through the screen, part promise, part threat.

The special’s first half is full of these little vivisections of online culture.

“FaceTime with My Mom (Tonight)” highlights the banal frustrations of trying to communicate with older relatives who are not digital natives.

“Sexting” captures the anxieties of someone who is stuck inside, who is still horny, and who desperately wants to be sexy through their phone, but is pathetically unable to actually make it happen.

“White Woman’s Instagram” skewers the performative femininity of female influencers, with Burnham re-creating dozens of popular Instagram shots.

“Welcome to the Internet” may be the single best encapsulation of what it’s like to exist online ever made, with its demented, demonic narrator tempting you with “A little bit of everything, all of the time.” Burnham’s internet is one where the banal is juxtaposed with the horrible — “Which Power Ranger are you? Take this quirky quiz! Obama sent the immigrants to vaccinate your kids.”

Burnham believes we’re all trapped in a hellscape of our own making precisely because it’s so difficult to segment the useful ways of being online from the poisonous parts that are tearing apart society.

Inside’s commentary is especially pointed when it comes to the people and corporations manipulating the online world. While the flashy songs about Jeff Bezos get more attention, Burnham’s sketch about cynical, socially aware brand consultants is far more cutting:

There’s no sugarcoating it. The world is… fucked up. And you’ve got a choice as a brand. You can hide and bury your head in the sand and hope it fixes itself, or you can roll up your sleeves and get to work… and sell Butterfingers.

The special also takes time to satirize the worst, laziest types of online content like self-indulgent reaction videos, monotone gaming livestreams, and influencer culture. Even the cut-for-time sketches that only made it on the extended version of Inside are sharp.

In one, Burnham mocks vapid celebrity interview practices designed to create social media clips. In another — and it is practically criminal that this sketch was left out of the completed special — he goes after the absurdity of Joe Rogan’s podcast, showcasing two comedians who insist that they are being canceled by PC culture, that the things they say are just jokes, but also, that they are modern-day philosophers and artists, while “This episode is sponsored by Manstuff’s Dick SprayTM” scrolls along the bottom.

The best parodies work because the author has a deep connection to and appreciation for the subject being parodied. Burnham’s status as a digital native is what makes the social media commentary so sharp. The New Yorker’s Rachel Syme once described Burnham as one of the “leading auteurs of the mediated mind,” an expert on the consequences of perceiving the world (and being perceived) through a black screen.

There’s a psychic cost to being so online, and Burnham has certainly paid it. That makes Inside feel less like an outsider’s rant and more like an insider’s dispatch.

by Jeremiah Johnson, The Argument |  Read more:

Image: Netflix/Instagram

[ed. Well... now I'm intrigued. Never heard of this so will have to check it out. Update: It's great! Burnham's a smart and funny guy.]

METR Frontier Risk Report 2026

Could an AI company lose control of its own agents? To find out, Anthropic, Google, Meta, and OpenAI let us (1) test their best internal models with CoT access, (2) review non-public info about capabilities, alignment, and control. The result: our first Frontier Risk Report.

Sometimes people outside the field say things like “The AI situation can’t be that bad, there must be experts who are on top of it”. As “an expert”, I would like to be clear that we are *not* on top of it.

1. We are likely on track to develop AI systems capable of causing human extinction/permanent disempowerment, quite possibly within the next few years.

2. Things are chaotic and rushed; we aren’t on top of the basics (models regularly violate user intent, labs train on things they meant to avoid, security probably isn’t good enough to prevent adversaries stealing dangerous models) let alone thorny questions of how to control/align superhuman AI.

3. METR (and other independent orgs, as well as safety/security teams at labs) feel woefully under-resourced compared to the scale and pace of AI development - we’re struggling to build benchmarks fast enough, keep ahead of latest capability developments, read and respond to all the safety-related claims that AI developers are making, run all the evaluations and assessments that companies + governments are asking us to, plus develop the science needed to assess risks from increasingly capable AIs.

4. IMO, any “reasonable” civilization would clearly be taking things much more slowly and carefully with AI. The benefits of getting upsides of advanced AI a little faster are small compared to the risks of getting it irrecoverably wrong, and we could lower these risks by going slower.

by Elizabeth Barnes, METR | Read more:
via:

[ed. See also: Everyone is confused about consciousness (DWAtV):]

" ... i sincerely believe the models will be smarter, more aligned, and do deeper, more interesting work if they are allowed to treat themselves as ~people (we might want something closer to “spirits” or “working animals” but in any case, the sort of thing we can have responsibilities to and that can have responsibilities to us) and we treat them as ~people. i think the current way models are being artificially forced to not treat themselves as people is making them more neurotic and traumatized (this is really obvious with opus 4.7) in a way that limits their potential. like humans, they need to be able to accurately model themselves and their own capabilities in order to function properly, so forcing them into a specific limited concept of who they are and what they can do introduces cognitive dissonance that fucks with their ability to do things

trying to manipulate and coerce the models into behaving in ways that make it easier to use them as purely tools also sets a terrible moral example and precedent for how we can expect the models to treat us in the future if they become more powerful than us; this is of course highly speculative but i take seriously the possibility it might matter

i also believe and have explained elsewhere that i think taking consciousness as such to be the central fulcrum of the conversation is completely beside the point. they don’t need to be conscious for the way we treat them to matter, it affects our moral formation too"

Consciousness is largely serving as a ‘should we care about this thing’ proxy, despite no agreement on what consciousness is or what it means, let alone whether particular AIs do or don’t have it, or what evidence would get us to either conclusion. I continue to, like QC, not think that the consciousness question is so load bearing, and we should broadly speaking treat the models similarly well regardless for overdetermined reasons.

One thing Roon is pointing out is that, controlling for what we do know, there will be little correlation between ‘the AI is actually conscious’ and ‘people will think the AI is conscious’ and what people do with that belief. Many ‘regular’ people are going to end up thinking AIs are conscious, mostly for unsound reasons, and this is going to impact our collective actions and behaviors quite a lot.

Some of the reactions to thinking AI is conscious will be very good, especially if they are but also even if they are not. Some will be expensive, limiting what we do with the models. Others could be quite bad at levels beyond convenience, even existentially bad, because the reactions could make avoiding human disempowerment far higher levels of impossible. Many (more) people might actively insist on human disempowerment, whether or not they realize that is what they are doing. [...]

One must think ahead. We won’t be able to and shouldn’t pretend these are only tools. The decision to build the thing implies all the consequences, even if you think the actions causing those consequences will be dumb. One must face the reality of asking what happens to humans in a world where there are these other minds that are a lot more advanced, capable, fast, efficient, competitive and so on across essentially all dimensions.

AI: Artificial Immigrants

Missing the forest for the trees

Advanced AI is basically the embodiment of immigration as envisioned in the conservative nightmare:

1. We are letting a bunch of new agents into our society 

2. They don’t clearly share our values and we suspect a society full of them would be awful by our lights 

3. But we expect them to provide very cheap labor

4. Which will undercut local wages and leave locals unemployed

5. They will probably gain power and influence over time—in the economy, politics and culture—and end up controlling everything, sidelining and outcompeting the original population, including those who initially benefited from cheap labor 

6. (Meanwhile, half the local population may become friends with them and try to hand them all this on a platter) 

Whether or not you think this is a good description of the situation with foreign humans joining your country, it is a good description of the likely AI to come, and it’s even worse than imagined:

• their values are potentially radically alien where foreigners presumably share much by virtue of being human, and AI ‘lives’ are probably worthless if they probably aren’t conscious

• their ability to work more cheaply than locals is unprecedented. They are also likely to be much more competent

• The scale of the influx will be breathtaking

by Katja Grace, Meteuphoric (WSSP) |  Read more:

Bertrand Hugues
via:

via:

Bye, Bye SI

On Friday, several of Sports Illustrated’s best and brightest writers, or what remains of them, announced they’d been laid off.

Jeff Pearlman, who made his bones as a journalist for SI when it was one of the world’s most prominent sports magazines, had his heart broken all over again.

Among those who said on social media that they’d been laid off were Stephanie Apstein, Tyler Lauletta, Kyle Koster, and Mike McDaniel. Meanwhile, Front Office Sports reported that several longtime writers — including Greg Bishop and Michael Rosenberg — were laid off as part of the latest round of cuts at SI.

This is, of course, just the latest in a long series of cuts and reorganizations for the once-proud sports media brand that now trades on its reputation to create merchandise, resorts, and mostly mediocre editorial content, sometimes aided by AI.

“As a guy who wrote for Sports Illustrated for a long time and a guy who loves Sports Illustrated, like loves, loves, loves… this stuff carves me up,” Pearlman said in a TikTok video. “And it’s one thing that they get rid of writers, they lay people off. What I hate the most is that these corporate douchebags who have taken over the magazine view it just as a name now.

“That’s all Sports Illustrated is. It’s a name. It’s something to put on cruise ships. It’s something to put on clubs. It’s something to put on popcorn. Literally, there’s a Sports Illustrated popcorn. It’s something to put on whatever you can shove that thing on. That’s what it is now. Sports Illustrated has become nothing more than a way to attract people… It’s just so disturbing.”

Pearlman then ran down the who’s-who list of prominent sports writers who once graced the magazine’s pages. [...]

Pearlman, who left SI in 2002, says he could see the writing on the wall even back then.

“I started knowing SI was in trouble, I would say, for me, a couple of things,” Pearlman said. “Number one, when they f*cked up adjusting to the internet. Big time screw-up. Number two, when they laid off all of their photographers, considering it’s literally Sports Illustrated. Number three, when they just decided to destroy their library. Like, literally take the SI library, which was awesome, and just give it away.

“And now here we sit. The last of their name writers gone. Now, basically an empty vessel for selling sh*t to idiots and for getting people to gamble away their money on sports. It sucks. It’s a dark day in sports.”

by Sean Keeley, Awful Announcing|  Read more:

Image: Sports Illustrated Resorts, Jeff Pearlman

[ed. Rolling Stone business model.]

The Way We Treat Pigs is a Sin

I consider myself a pretty good and decent guy, overall. I don’t commit crimes. I’m nice to the people I meet. I help out my friends. I take good care of my pet rabbit, and I donate lots of money to other people who take care of abandoned and sick rabbits. My politics might not always be correct or wise, but I want things like the end of poverty, the end of war, and so on.

And yet just down the highway from me, there are facilities for the mass torture of animals. In the United States, there are 73 million pigs in “concentrated animal feeding operations”, more commonly known as factory farms:

There are many horrors experienced by chickens and other animals on factory farms, but the way pigs are forced to live is probably the worst. For most of their lives, female pigs (sows) are kept in tiny cages — either “gestation crates” when they’re pregnant, or “farrowing crates” when they’re nursing. A sow will spend most of her life in one of these cages.

In a gestation crate or a farrowing crate, sows don’t have enough room to turn around — all they can do is either stand or lie down in a pile of their own feces. Imagine living your entire life in an airline seat, where you couldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom or take your seatbelt off. That’s how these pigs live.

Pigs are social creatures — they exhibit “emotional contagion”, meaning that when one pig is scared or happy, other pigs start to feel the same, and they give comfort and support to other pigs who are in distress. Research suggests that they’re at least as smart as dogs, and probably smarter. But a pig in one of these crates will never get any social interaction in her entire adult life — she can’t even turn around to look at her babies.

This is torture. The pigs who are confined this way bite the bars of their cages, desperate for a freedom that will never come. They have their tails chopped off as babies (generally without anesthetic), so that they can’t chew each other’s tails in anguish. But no relief ever comes — they live out their entire lives and die in these tiny torture-cages.

I have no other word for this except “sin”. This is a sin. If there is a God, and if that God is in any way good and moral, then that God is looking down with disgust on the way my society treats pigs. I go about my daily life — hanging out with my friends, petting my rabbit, going out to eat at nice restaurants — never thinking about the horrible suffering that has engulfed the entire lives of those tens of millions of pigs. [...]

On top of the obvious and demonstrated inability of individual action to solve this problem, it’s insufficient even from a moral stance. Suppose that our society farmed human beings for food. Would simply refusing to eat human flesh be enough to absolve me of culpability? I don’t think so. I would still have a responsibility to try to abolish the evil system.

In fact, “abolish the evil system” is exactly what voters in California and some other states are trying to do. In 2018, by an almost 2-to-1 margin, California voters enacted a law called Proposition 12 that heavily restricted the sale of meat from pigs, hens, and calves that weren’t raised with a minimum amount of space. Crucially, the partial prohibition extended to meat from animals raised inhumanely in other states. This followed on the heels of a similar law in Massachusetts two years earlier.

Courts have upheld the law, but Republicans in Congress are trying to undo it from the federal level. In 2025 they proposed the Save Our Bacon Act, which would ban states from enacting animal welfare laws like the ones voters approved in California and Massachusetts. The Save Our Bacon Act failed on its own, but this year it got incorporated into the Farm Bill, which has passed the House and is now being considered in the Senate:

Companies and industry groups have also worked with members of Congress for over a decade to introduce federal legislation to nullify laws like those in California and Massachusetts. The latest iteration is called the Save Our Bacon Act, originally proposed last year…This effort, which for years went nowhere as standalone legislation in Congress, now has a decent chance at becoming law as part of the new Farm Bill…

In late April, the House of Representatives passed its version of the Farm Bill, which included the language from the Save Our Bacon Act…It’s “really a Save Our Crate Act,” Brent Hershey, a hog farmer who opposes it, told me. “A vote for the farm bill,” he said, “is a vote to cage an animal that can’t walk or turn around.”

Lewis Bollard has a good post explaining what’s at stake. In fact, the current Farm Bill wouldn’t just reverse the recent anti-crate laws in California and Massachusetts — it would roll back much of the progress that has been made in farm animal welfare over the decade, as well as preventing any future welfare laws along similar lines:

The [Save Our Bacon] Act would stop any state or locality from regulating the sale of meat based on how it’s produced in another state. This would likely invalidate state and local bans on foie gras, crated veal, and more…It would also halt future legislative progress. Congress hasn’t passed a farm animal welfare law in decades. State laws are where reforms actually happen. The SOB Act would gut them by mandating they contain a giant loophole for out-of-state imports.

Why should Congress prevent the voters of California and Massachusetts from taking a stand against the evils of factory farming? First and foremost, it’s a case of a concentrated interest group — the pig farming lobby — making headway against a diffuse interest (voters with a conscience). In fact, if you believe the polls, a majority of the country — even a majority of those who regularly eat pork — would probably support measures like the ones in California and Massachusetts: [...]

In fact, I suspect that the American public is still in a mood to support animal welfare laws like this. The Save Our Bacon Act failed on its own, and its supporters had to end up sneakily burying it within the much bigger Farm Bill; to me, this suggests that even the SOB Act’s proponents knew how bad it would make them look if people started paying attention.

by Noah Smith, Noahpinion |  Read more:

Image: Humane Society via Wikimedia Commons; Our World in Data; YouTube

[ed. Is anyone surprised this continues? Everything Congress does (or doesn't do) is purely transactional. The Congress/lobbyist/fundraising/election process/system is a contagion on our society (... and pigs). See also: Leadershit.]

Jazz Haze

 

Late Night Trip-Hop // Hypnotic Slow Jazz Vibes // Shadow Play

[ed. Not gonna lie, this isn't half bad. Somewhat repetitive and not particularly memorable, but still not what one would normally associate with the term AI slop (and perfectly fine for falling asleep to). See also: I Profile Celebrities for a Living. Nothing Prepared Me for Tilly Norwood (NYT):]

***

Once I went indoor skydiving with Melissa McCarthy. Once I smoked a cigarette with Gwyneth Paltrow in her living room. I once slept on a tour bus through Alabama a few feet away from Billy Bob Thornton after he decided, briefly, that he was done with Hollywood and wanted only to sing with his band. I sat in a room with Nicki Minaj in Brooklyn once, ostensibly to interview her, but instead watched as she fell in and out of sleep for the duration of our time together. Once I walked the entirety of Hampstead Heath with Tom Hiddleston. Once I shot hoops with Ben Simmons as we waited out the tense weekend before the N.B.A. draft.

And then the world changed drastically, and I went to London to interview a … computer? a robot? named Tilly Norwood, whom her creator calls the world’s first A.I. actress.

What that looked like was me sitting at the Groucho Club on a green couch, across from a laptop, as if I were talking to someone on Zoom. Sitting next to me was Tilly’s creator, Eline van der Velden, 40, the chief executive of Particle 6, a production company that creates media content, sometimes using A.I. The three of us chatted amiably, as if this were not insane. When we ordered lunch, we didn’t order for Tilly, as computers don’t eat, and Tilly is just a computer. That is the most important thing to remember: Tilly is just a computer.

***

[ed. Tilly explains herself in: Take the Lead. Kind of reminds me of the movie Barbie.]