I write every post on my blog with my own mind and my own hands. I type on my phone whatever my mind has managed to organize on a given day. It’s a ritual for thinking more than an attempt at being read by others.
Three years later Isaiah’s reactor went critical, I’m still writing my human brain derived content, and timelines from Twitter to Substack are drowning in pithy highly readable artificial intelligence written content. Poor Will Manidis has jokingly taken responsibility but feed slop was coming one way or mother.
It does make a chronological feed as a timeline a much better choice for personal use as algorithmic buffing of content will make a night river of a platform into a million tributary parts. The feeds crack as the water of thought are routed elsewhere.
This metaphor has clearly reached me as yesterday I went to some effort to do a full shower, exfoliate, shave and wash routine with new products meant to improve my epidermis from tip to toe. I ended up giving myself a number of itchy red notches and spent the evening slathering on lotions and cortisone creams.
My stratum corneum cracked just as my timeline did. The moisture in my skin is we sucked out by acids and scrubbing. I’d taken off a few dead skin cells and irritated the rest.
Just like the insights and prose have been buffed and pumiced to a flat surface of legibility in our feeds. Nothing was buoyant or smooth. It was flat with the occasional warm to the touch but of discomfort. Slopping on occlusives might help my skin but I have no fix for the timeline.
I am an enormous fan of Freddie Mercury thanks to my mother’s excellent collection of classic rock. You’d be surprised at how much I’ve committed to memory from the core cannon and deep cuts that span the Beatles to Cream & Edgar Winter to Led Zeppelin.
I’m not much for karaoke, though I once tweaked my neck doing a full head bang hair whipping, Wayne’s World style, for a friend’s birthday party.
Knowing all the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody is clutch in these circumstances. As can go in, do a full rock opera and ease yourself out of any further obligation to participate saying “oh I had easily three times the stage time as everyone else I’ll just cheer you on!” Pro-tip for group activities amirite?
Fun fact from Reddit. During the Bohemian Rhapsody scene in ‘Wayne’s World’ (1992) Mike Myers and Dana Carvey are both grimacing in pain while headbanging. The director, Penelope Spheeris, shot the scene for approximately five hours. Basically how I felt after my friends birthday karaoke.
Now I don’t always have the common sense to stop myself. I am a real mess at the moment as I have finally come home and I can let the whirlwind dissipate for a moment
Strained sleep with upsettingly high strain but at least it’s restorative. Now if only I could get my resting heart rate down and my HRV back up I’d be right as rain.
My Whoop is sending up red recoveries with a week of barely better yellows, as I spent a bit too much of the last few months going full Freddie Mercury “Don’t Stop Me Now” as not only was I having a real good time but I had a lot to get done.
Tonight, I’m gonna have myself a real good time I feel alive And the world, I’ll turn it inside out, yeah I’m floatin’ around in ecstasy So don’t stop me now Don’t stop me ‘Cause I’m havin’ a good time Havin’ a good time
It’s nice when you work and your life are aligned such that every step feels like you can only accelerate. But if we are sticking to thermodynamics, l may have allowed a little more entropy into the equation.
So give me some time to sleep it off. I’ll be in bed trying to keep my heat rate down. But being in the red won’t stop me forever. It’ll just stop me for a little bit.
The beginning of the post Great Recession (or The Global Financial Crisis) recovery was just getting traction in 2014, not so much that everyone you knew felt like their goal in life was to become a product manager at Meta or Google.
And this turning point provided a surprising amount of freedom to try to turn an aesthetic into a business. Previously most were happy with an advertising campaign from a big brand and now every constituent part is its own fully monetized subculture.
Money was being thrown at any authentic form of culture that could be commoditized during turn Zero Percent Interest Rate phenomena years. I didn’t know it then but everything I considered to be the day to day culture of my friends was about to be hovered up first by venture and then by private equity and turned brands.
Coolhunters didn’t sell out they were eaten by the inexorable logic of attention economies. More than one Style Forum guy has gone on to success. One of them even runs national security now. No really.
Just as an aside, Freeman’s is still a thing and the New Musuem is involved. Some fashion substack (that is hired an editor who used to run fashion blogs) alerted me to this fun fact. I genuinely feel for folks in fashion as it feels as if culture has simply devoured itself orosbourus style into a null space.
And I agree. Being cool has always meant doing your own thing. And we are all just here to be entertained. From Gladiator to Accellerando, our lightcone demanded to be entertained.
Honestly the first generation of beauty bloggers giving product reviews. What are we even doing anymore? Ipsy turned a YouTuber into a makeup sampler and Allure turned into self into a sampling service. Albeit the best of the sampling services, but still who are we even meant to trust anymore?
Maybe that is why the only style anyone can ever really have honestly comes from study of themselves and their life. What is empathy of not conform to the rules that help make others feel at ease. Manners are after all, meant for the comfort of others not yourself. I am sure that can make it very tempting indeed to only say nice things. Which should be easy as editor of taste. Only tell us about the good stuff.
My head hurts, I’ve lost my voice and I’m achy everywhere but I’ve got something resembling a tan and my lymph glands are only a little swollen.
Is this is the halfway point of the summer season I feel like I’m doing it rather well. That is rare for me as summer is traditionally my most challenging season but I seem to be doing rather well despite the workload and constant travel.
In a fun coincidence of scheduling, I shared a blue moon at the end of May in Greece and the waning of the full strawberry moon in Utah with same person.
A blue full moon and a sailboat light
What a joy to be half a world away and still find a way to come together. From the Ionian Sea to the high alpine skiing mountains of Utah you are never too far away from a friend.
I’m back in Montana and hoping I’ll enjoy a reasonable chunk of time here as I do feel the strain on my body. I don’t think I am sick but I am struggling to with fatigue and the annoyance of a throat so sore from talking that I should probably commit to a silent retreat for a few days.
So I’ll sip my slippery elm tea and browse the cosmetic sales for skincare (and a little makeup splurge to celebrate the big wins) and get myself back on a routine. I’d like to put on more muscle mass and improve my cardiovascular fitness now that I have more capacity.
If I can manage conference after conference, gala and launch demonstrations along with my workload and time with friends then surely I can add in some overhead presses and a plyometrics right? I did a short but brisk mile and half circuit around the neighboring pastures. And then I got back into bed.
A long block of travel to sync in person with diverse nodes in my network has been invigorating but also exhausting. I’m sure some of the travel looks quite glamorous, but it is always in service of furthering my longterm goals.
For a decade, we have explained the retreat from the public internet using Yancey Strickler’s Dark Forest Theory. People withdrew into smaller, quieter spaces because speaking in public became dangerous…
The resulting cozyweb—private group chats, Discords, Slacks, newsletters, encrypted messaging groups, invite-only communities—was understood as a strategic adaptation. The public remained a single connected univers
The ecosystem of private spaces were connected, but as they accreted power these cozy web communities saw their gravity increase. Eventually some collapsed in on themselves. And thus we have black holes of public collapse in the dark forest; out of which none of us are able to escape.
What Rao calls “inaccessible interiority” traps some of us. We may have visibility to other communities through the byproducts of our niches but that does not mean a shared reality where we can reach consensus with others outside of our space.
My strong fear is that without a possible consensus reality for larger groups like nation states citizens, we lose the basic capacity for productive interactions that move us forward. Only inside a community that has swallowed us whole can we progress. And if we find something novel inside those gravity sinks we have no way of sharing it. Only some of us enjoy progress.
Which might be fine for those who wish to live lives quietly out of sight. But it isn’t a world that enables strangers coming together through public global communication in a shared commons.
This stacks on existing research which illustrates how social media creates echo chambers that amplify consensus ideas while filtering out unconventional or contrarian views — which in turn builds on existing theory that describes how individuals self-censor opinions when they suspect they are in the minority.
When the dark forest was scary but still possible to traverse, we still had a chance to explore and find reality, even if we lived in a consensus bubble most of the times. Dead forest theory means we are past the event horizon, from which we cannot escape. We are locked in whatever consensus reality emerged inside the event horizon.
And so despite its expense, its troubles and its costs, I still push my work into the public commons with the hope that I’ll circle the accretion disks but can fight against falling into one forever with a steady acceleration to preserve a visible orbit.
What both Venkatesh Rao and Dan Grey posit in different ways, is that it is worth understanding where we might be cut off from reality.
Further, who knows what new kinds of horrors we will endure as we lead separate lives online without any contact with real life and real people. We crave community with those whom we can maintain consistent context and contact. That’s why I still get on the airplane, or get in the car, or hop on the bus and show up. I want us to share reality.
As I shook off my sleep this morning, I started the day with a cup of coffee (since after that tea debacles it was coffee powered our revolution) and the NPR news brief.
Their five minute top of the hour news roundups was once my favored way of staying up on national & global news. Nostalgia made me turn it on today. I wanted to feel the patriotism comes from owning one’s responsibility to be an informed citizen.
Fourth of July being Independence Day, I am excited by civic pride that comes with informed self governance. What better way to celebrate the United States Semiquincentennial.
Our great American experiment celebrates 250 years of independence from Great Britain. As a singular nation state, committed self evident truths such as all men being equal in our unalienable right to Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.
We say America is a unique and improbable miracle. And many of us remain as committed to the founding fathers’ ethos of self-governance because we are taught that we all must make sacrifices to maintain ordered liberty.
Part of my commitment to being a free American is working towards a higher standard of informed civics. So it felt appropriate to begin this important day of celebration by engaging with the issues of the moment. I hoped NPR might be a part of that.
I have always loved radio (I even worked at an infamous station as a teen). I enjoy eccentric public access Art Bell style shows, opinion shock jocks, and folksy variety shows. Yet it was National Public Radio’s news coverage that was my family’s constant companion for remaining engaged with the public discourse.
We didn’t always have the money for expensive newspapers subscriptions for newspapers like the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal so I’d read at the library. But at home I could always rely on NPR.
There was a time when a public radio station, which was free for all Americans who wished to listen, was a source of national civic pride. I was taught it was our patriotic duty to be informed citizens. Plus they played great music from variety shows to classical.
Yet, as you might expect, some of this is mere partisan politics. It will shift just as our political system has always does. The negativity need not be the focus. Even in dark times we must reach for the light.
How proud are you to be an America ?
Interestingly younger generations are more likely than older generations to say America aligns with our founding ideals. And I have to say this aligns with my personal experience.
I have been privileged to work on passing laws that reinforces our core constitutional rights alongside investing in the hard infrastructure work of developing cheaper energy. From our right to compute to the our nuclear renaissance that bloomed in one year from a single executive order, I’ve never felt as engaged with the process of building our nation.
Every day offers us a chance to celebrate our innate freedoms. And I’d like it if our public institutions felt similarly not matter who the people choose as our representatives. We have always been an imperfect nation.
The American experiment is ongoing. Our many problems are real but it is equally true that we have never been more empowered to engage with building the country you wish to see. Happy Birthday America. May we celebrate her today, tomorrow and another 250 years into the future.
I am going full weird Americana for the Forth of July in the mountains with friends . We are all committed to the beautiful wonders that is America as it is our natural beauty in the mountain west that feels right for celebrating our nation’s 250th birthday.
Being very in the moment means it’s hard to capture the moment. I’m in a Jeep Rangler going up one of the steepest graded roads in North America to the top of a ski mountain. I’m in a silk dress with a black baseball cap that says make nuclear great again and art deco costume jewelry. Just for fun because why not?
I hope it was reasonable dress code for a hoedown at a country club. I feel like I should be in cowboy boats, but not haven’t made it home to get any kind of riding boots so I’ll come as I am with a smile.
The alpine country in the summer lends itself to dressing a bit more country than city even with its evident creature comforts. I’m a townie from a mountain town so I can simply be eccentric. The counterculture of mountain towns is obvious to insiders but less to those who move in later in life.
I’ve been going between city, coastal and desert all within a month and I’ve not had space in my suitcase for cowboy boots. But I am glad I am able to enjoy the vista in any state. Who says silk and Jeeps aren’t a natural fit?
I’m deeply in the red on my energy stores. All my dashboards are flashing warning signs that I need to get in a good recovery.
I’ve up all my reserves to get myself to Utah and make a good showing to support team Valar Atomics. Ironic that I’m energy poor as all my effort posting (both online and in real life) is about a vision of cheap abundant safe and clean energy for all mankind.
What a privilege to say that Valar Atomics has been my everything for the last forty eight hours. Everyone is running on so little sleep but the outcome is a success that is undeniable. There are so many exciting interviews about our reactor and Isaiah’s from Ti Morse at Relentless (here on YouTube) to Sarah Guo at No Priors that you could spend a happy afternoon getting up to speed on the nuclear renaissance.
I hope to watch them all soon as I need some rest. So does the team. At team party after the big Nvidia event, much of the conversation turned to where everyone planned to enjoy their well deserved 4th of July break
Having served our nation by reaching criticality and generating electricity as ordered by the executive branch, this team as earned some leave. Hundred hour weeks have been the norm for many of them. This crew knows hard work. One former navy nuclear engineer joked that while the navy was tough, booting up a reactor from scratch was much harder.
Most just want some sleep but the diversity of plans was exciting. From touring Spain’s Catholic cathedrals to hiking in Alaska clearly a few had some energetic plans. But there was a lot of life basics like setting up new apartments and sleeping off an accumulated sleep debt.
I’m in camp sleep it off. Whoop is sure I’m either dying or super sick my metrics are pretty bad. Thankfully I’m going to be enjoying our nation’s birthday in the mountains with my husband and our friends. I will go from in the red to red, white and blue.
I’ve got to remember to keep tissues in my purse. I’m prone to crying when I’m proud. I am a crier by nature and the experience of pride and awe is becoming distressingly common. Woe is me right?
My very early bet on Valar Atomics (I wrote about it on Day 1145 but met Isaiah closer to day 900 early 2023) is paying off years, if not decades, ahead of my expectations. Never did I expect arguably the hardest operational bet in my portfolio to be such a fast breakaway hit. And I owe it to an executive order from Donald Trump and the efforts of patriotic Americans committed to regulatory reform. Which is crazy.
As it turns out, if the government gets out of the way of talented people, nay, if it demands that our state institutions help them, the impossible becomes possible in shockingly short order. The reports of America’s death are greatly exaggerated.
Today in front of a crowd of hundreds of current and potential investors, employees, Orangeville community members, government officials & scientists and most importantly our family members, we watched a reactor (that might not even exist without my first check), power an Nvidea Blackwell chip.
In a demonstration rivaling the greats (Ballmer, Jobs) Isaiah brought up NuclearWebsite.com and asked the audience to load it with him.
“Oh no it’s not loading?!!?” What’s happening? Do we have any electricity on site? Quick someone run the GPUs to the nearest electricity! Go go we can’t disappointment all these people!
And then the Blackwell is rushed into the Ward250 reactor. In real time the chip is run to the control room, gets hooked up and boom the website loads.
The first entirely privately funded nuclear startup was critical, stable, producing electricity and powering state of the art silicon.
We actually did it. The mad lads and ladies of Valar Atomics swept ahead of the competition in a frenzied year of progress (Day 1510) from seed round and Ward Zero to producing electricity to power GPUs.
After a twenty four hour travel marathon to get from the Ionian in the Mediterranean to the southern Utah desert, being back at the Valar Atomics reactor facility for a demonstration of this magnitude felt surreal.
Just a few weeks ago (Day 1969) the reactor was days away from being shielded and then fueled. We’d driven down to see her before she was wrapped up in shielding.
Proud first investors in front of Ward 259
Now not only has she gone critical (Day 1996) but I was able to walk into the running reactor room and see the live reactor for myself. The operator Ben (a former naval nuclear operator) seemed surprised and happy to see me. “Julie! Hi!” He exclaimed as me and the other early lead investors piled in for a tour.
Jason Calacanis (also a master of the live demo) never lets anyone forget he invested in Ubers seed round. I get to brag I wrote Valar’s very first check
And while success has a thousand fathers and failure is an orphan, I’ll always enjoy the satisfaction of being the very first to take a chance on a long shot no one thought had any business even trying. And well they were wrong. And I was right. Not just right but really fucking right. I backed the long shot dark horse (somewhere around day 950) because my gut told me that the kid had the right stuff. And wow did he.
I only had a dim hint of exactly what we’d be seeing today as the invite said “Watts Next” cohosted by Nvidia and Valar. Clearly a number of us connected the dots because it was packed. The atom would power the compute and we’d get to see it live.
The team after the demo
Every existing investor, and quite a few later stage firms, came out to the middle of nowhere to see if these longshots had really done it. And indeed in just three years the impossible became reality. I’ve never felt prouder to be American. And clearly everyone around me felt the same.
And most importantly, it was a win for the team, led by the indomitable spirit of Isaiah Taylor. Their long nights and constant doubt paid off. The road ahead is long but no one is likely to doubt that we are serious contenders anymore.
I always say there was never a doubt in my mind. I had faith. Isaiah joked he had moments of doubts. I say I’m blessed that I got to be that first believer to say “I think you can do it and I’m going to help.”
And whenever he doubted that we’d make it (there are always near death experiences in any startup) it was my privilege to remind him that doing the impossible is just what we humans do.
Like Captain Kirk, I don’t believe in no win scenarios. I hope you consider joining me for more impossible long shots. Because sometimes taking the shot is worth more than anything else you will ever do.
Want to run your compute on clean renewable cheap American energy?
I wrote these notes while a little bit high, both literally (a transcontinental flight) and figuratively (CBD & a THCa blend meant to give anti-inflammatory relief without hitting your mind but it probably does) but it’s hard to say if I’m less focused than when I’m on the ground. You be the judge of that. Nostalgia machine clicks on
Business class and its perks are lost on me as I don’t drink alcohol. So I had rhubarb and raspberry tonic water in whatever passes for cut glassware on airplanes now. I said no at the fancy lounges to very decent champagnes but I don’t want to get dehydrated. I got a sugar crash instead.
I’m listening to Ethiopian jazz as I find this piece relaxing in the context of airplane travel. Mulatu Astake is a master in a genre I don’t even like but this particular piece has always spoken to me.
Nobody paid me for the diffusion but I was paid for the original campaign. A lesson for anyone bitching about how their work wasn’t compensated by the artificial intelligence models that ingested their contributions.
How funny that I should manage a Club Monaco Facebook page involving a pop-up event for a chef that would go on to define so much of culture.
I worked with impossibly cool creative director on the account who was famous in Japan for his photography and also as the guy who made Pabst cool for hipsters. I sometimes wonder where he ended up when his talent set was so hype sensitive. But we were pretty ahead of the times on this one.
Before this fashion agency career, in the post GFC aughts, lived across from a weekend installation of a projected light Pabst installation when I was in North 7th and Bedford. My Turkish banker roommate and I used to throw raves there so we couldn’t exactly complain about the lights hitting our living room. But it was a good campaign in a good location.
I shot low budget fashion shoots during the day with a very competent hungry young editor. She worked as a waitress at night and for me during running our fashion editorial to get toehold in the business. It seems to have worked.
She has an amazing career, a handsome husband, a beautiful child and kicked it off with an impossibly stylish wedding which every hipster you knew copied till well past the Tommy Hilfiger event horizon of having no soul. We had a tortured Swedish nepo-baby photographer too. I adored him. It was a very “rents were cheap” time in hindsight.
Anyways, in transit through Heathrow, I picked up a raft of print magazines from the Cathay lounge which kicked off this nostalgia. I’d browsed Wallpaper but as I’m not a design person a flip through was fine.
The Cathay Delight is the same shade as this campaign from Van Cleef and Arpels.
But Condé Nast Traveler caught my eye as I went in to grab the pink Financial Times. I got Tattler as well as why else fly British Airways if you can’t get some gossip on this social hierarchy right?
It’s just that taste is so far down the commodity chain anymore it’d hard to know when and where to find any thing that’s not made to be sold to someone. The menu on my flight had basque cheesecake. That became a joke on a trip I threw together last minute for girlfriends in Corfu. Apparently it’s made it into the Club World menu much to its detriment.
The choices from Condé Nast on a perfect summer was so on the nose. Montana’s Rocky Mountain sybarism and off the beaten path Adriatic and Ionian options for exploring covers and lots of seafood.
The whole damn thing reads like my travel itinerary.
Yeah that’s my coastal move with friends and family. And I do rather loudly live in Montana. It’s like am I joke to their psychographic team? A department that has three people no less. And they only market to women exactly like me. Funny that. I’ll have to check up on their old editor Lilit. She was much better than whatever this nonsense of repackaged Julie seems to be.
