I feel the change all around me. I feel the change inside me. On Easter one feels the miraculous in big and small ways.
Having traveled a not insignificant portion of the Silk Road from Adriatic to Ionia to the Bosporus this week I feel the changing flows of commerce, empire and faith rather viscerally. It sounds grandiose and yet now else can one explain the gravity of time and place?
Being embodied is our human journey. To overcome it is the stuff of myth, faith and religious belief. Understanding its meaning is glimpsed here and there in the natural world but is mostly beyond our ken.
I do not know what is coming or what I will learn in the process. The glory is in being put on the path. Happy Easter.
I spent the night in a port city in Greece as I am making my way back to Western Europe. I’ll be crossing by airplane via polar routes on my way to Colorado next week for an academic conference at my home town university.
I feel like I’ve made it when I am invited to speak on topics like Renegade Futurism. I’m now old enough to have lived a couple rounds in the “dissident technology” discourse so I hope to have something of value to say to new generations.
“You can’t get the little pricks generation gap you.” Molly Millions Neuromancer
On the long drive backfrom Istanbul I am listening to William Gibson’s Neuromancer to set myself in the right mood after the mix of antiquity and modernity I encountered this week.
One doesn’t cross thousands of kilometers and centuries of empires without requiring a bit of an aesthetic change.
Sunnier ports than in Gibson’s Neuromancer
The weather is more sunny Mediterranean Easter weekend than the non-climate skies of a future Japan’s Chiba and Night City, but with really any port city at night I can’t help but think of the famous first line of cyperpunk’s foremost novel.
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.
William Gibson’s Neuromancer
And so I tuned in to a story of oligarchy, artificial intelligence, dissident coders and cyborgs with mirror shades. In that near future the protagonists make a stopover in Istanbul too and it involves medically advanced nervous system treatments too. Gibson’s cyborg chop shops are almost as advanced as what I saw this week.
Hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy
Gibson’s 1984 novel is as relevant in 2025 as it ever was. Our timeline has become his later work in uncanny ways but his cyperpunk aesthetic has become as timeless as the domes of Constantinople.
The elephants eye domes of a hammam
Whatever transition we are about to make as humans as our own Wintermute intelligences arrive will be rocky. I don’t know who will be the dissidents and how centralizing power may prove to be.
Overweighting the American markets has been the default in finance for decades. The growth of the magnificent 7, the “exorbitant privilege” of the American dollar, and the security of the defense umbrella of our alliances bolstered treasuries.
American exceptionalism has been rocked with Liberation Day and the subsequent fallout for many. Nobody in business in or with America slept for two weeks straight.
But for me it’s always traveling abroad that changes how I feel about America’s place in the world. If you’ve been following along with my hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy saga you may know I was in Istanbul touring a factory.
Seeing is believing. I’d heard Turkey’s clinics were the best in the world but now I know it. I cannot wait to come back for a more thorough look at my medical situation.
Being born an American has been the privilege of a lifetime. My passport has shown me the world. And even as I do what I can to help to make Montana the friendliest place to do the business of the future I can’t help but fear America has lost more than a step.
Istanbul feels like a modern city in the vein of Shenzen. Growth and construction is everywhere even as you can visit mosques and hammam from when Constantinople was the crossroad of empires.
I had not planned it this way but I had a repeat of the meiborn gland issue that got me sent to hospital in February. I had, in just four short days, a chalazion turn into hordeolum aka an infected cyst.
It’s probably a side effect of the IL-17 biological I am using. I had a mold exposure over the winter in our bed room so who knows. Sucks to be me. This is why I’m excited about new technology for healing like HBOT.
It needed a doctor to perform an incision and curettage. I asked the concierge at my hotel for a clinic and I walked five minutes to an enormous glittering skyscraper of a hospital. Many of those hospitals are run twenty four hours a day.
I walk in with no appointment. They immediately find me a medical translator. I’m checked in within fifteen minutes. I get a full eye exam and a seen by a doctor who instantly diagnoses it.
Next thing I know I’m in the chair with a local anesthetic and she is slicing, draining and disinfecting. She gets me my post treatment protocol. A pharmacy delivers the prescriptions in 9 minutes. Now this is healthcare.
Within the space of an hour I’m fixed up and sent home to eat. I’m sitting down to grilled octopus and prawns by the Bosporus in no time. I needed a protein filled lunch to take my antibiotics.
The road to Constantinople is long. Whether a knight on horseback crusade bound or a bitch in an Audi, it’s a long haul to Istanbul.
That’s not me flexing honest just that the rental guy sold me on the quattro as a comfortable ride for long hauls so for you cavalry types it’s the destrier of our times.
My route is basically hugging the Aegean. I drove down the Adriatic, nodded at the Ionian and spent an evening on the Aegean before breaking at Thessaloniki. The reverse was no picnic for Odysseus and he started in Troy. Which is around the corner relatively thinking.
Unlike our friends in antiquity, I have further to go to make it to the capital of empires that is Istanbul.
I’m excited for both the work on the ground but also to see the sights. Making it across multiple border crossings is absolutely worth to see the intersection of so much history. Oh and also to tour a factory.
Concurrently we are moving through a massive global economic reorganization that impacts how one plans for even local businesses like a med spa.
So while we’ve purchased our first chamber before the tariffs have gone into effect, it seems reasonable to get ahead of the game and begin the sourcing process.
In a twist that one of my friends described as “an extremely Julie situation” I’m heading to Istanbul tomorrow. I’m in Europe so I’m actually going to drive. Any recommendations for hotels, great meals and must see sights are most welcome.
This then turned into an offer of a tour of the factory by their team (since we are in the market as we plan out our Montana medical spa) that was topped off by an offer to discuss the experience on my favorite podcast.
Apparently manufacturing complex medical equipment in this new era of tariffs and bilateral trade agreements is a topic of interest to many people as Turkey may end up a better trading partner than China for many categories of sophisticated equipment.
The Trump administration is making attempts to reorient more of the world under our trade & defense umbrella rather than China is obviously on everyone’s mind. Turkey is an advanced manufacturing industry from which I have imported in the distant past for textiles so I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from this trip.
I’m recovering today from transcontinental travel. My body is reconciling itself with my soul after moving through the liminal spaces of German airports through the threshold of Chicago’s regional transit on to my home in Montana.
Travel always feels otherworldly to me and it’s not just the amazement of being above the clouds. The dreamscape surreality of time changing is disorienting to me. Time shifts ambiguously on long journeys which lends an added dimension of unease that comes with the change of place.
It doesn’t help that I’m already feeling the end of the political interregnum in America especially strongly. We may have vibe shifted but it’s unclear what comes next.
It seems appropriate to be uneasy. Everything as a Joker-esque “and here we go” craziness aesthetic to it. Memecoins and the Village People and algorithmic inflections makes the topology of the now impossible to map.
I spent most of last evening wandering the empty halls of the Frankfurt International Airport. If you’ve never had the chance to do your ten thousand steps in the privacy of the off hours of a travel hub I recommend it highly.
I am entranced by empty industrial spaces, particularly when it comes to transportation and logistics. Whole worlds of people and goods being ferried to destinations near and far from the mundane to the exotic.
Walking empty corridors at London’s Heathrow can feel like you’ve stepped into your own private world. They have an enormous amount of hallways that never seem to have a soul in them. And apparently so does Frankfurt after a certain hour.
An empty corridor in an airport at 6pm
I had arranged for a morning flight out of Frankfurt after flying in the night before from elsewhere. There was little to do as most of the airport beyond convenience stores was closed so I made my way from A to Z.
American chairs never recline but Germany lets its tourists nap comfortably in the liminal spaces
Frankfurt has a “pod” hotel in their Z terminal. I walked the empty halls from A with a brief ride on an equally empty train. I went through security (the only time I saw anyone) as I plodded through with suitcase and backpack. Liminal spaces just for me.
Finding my way through roundabouts
My destination had a flavor somewhere between Japanese pod hotel and a Norwegian prison. It is called MyCloud. That it runs upwards of $250 a night and is only for international transit should tell you a lot about how expenses in Europe and the quality of the Nordic justice system.
Industrial comfort for felons and first class passengers alike at MyCloud
It’s meant as an airport hotel only for those booked onto international flights and is located in the transit area of the airport in Terminal 1, Gate Z25. And yes it is behind the security checkpoint.
I was absolutely enthralled by it and recommend it if you feel comforted by small spaces. I deliberately chose a room without any windows on the interior for the quiet. It was a cool 16 C. The toilet and shower contraption unfolded elegantly when in use.
Opaqueness is good in pod grooming
I wore earplugs and an eye mask to sleep and felt like I was ensconced in a tiny module on my way to a mining mission for the Waylund Yutani corporation.
I briefly was overtaken by the desire to travel to Washington D.C for the inauguration. I am however more focused on the work in front of me for chaotic capital and on my 2025 goals of putting my ankylosis back to remission.
I finished a ten day hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy course which has made me feel significantly better.
I found a new potential candidate for an IL-17 inhibitor that has recently been released in Europe.
I’d had a disappointing set of bloodwork and I was determined to push forward on new improvements. I want a personal life that is more than lying prone in bed working on my professional passions.
I want more time with my family. I want the capital to pursue children. I’ve had embryos on ice for years and been too ill to carry them. I may be too old. I have family that live outside the United States with no easy visa solutions at and that I’d like to have near me.
If we are able to put together the capital investment required for surrogacy (or the miracle of being able to carry myself) a family means having everyone able to be a part of the children’s lives.
Maybe my health will never support the strain of this with the workload I choose. But I pray that visas will come, that health can be granted, that capital will be liquid, and the possibilities of getting it all together isn’t impossible even in this crazy moment. Pray for my family if you are so inclined
