Journal

lesson from our first Trimester.

my online newsletter was born 3 months ago. While 599 subscribers in three months or so may be insignificant, to me it feels like a growing Andre the Giant in the womb, figuratively speaking. Why the spurt? The first reason, “Artificial. Done Artfully,” has subscribers, perhaps, is because it reads as a byline, online. This […]

June 1, 2026

my online newsletter was born 3 months ago.

While 599 subscribers in three months or so may be insignificant, to me it feels like a growing Andre the Giant in the womb, figuratively speaking.

Why the spurt?

The first reason, “Artificial. Done Artfully,” has subscribers, perhaps, is because it reads as a byline, online. This vehicle, moribund since the days of print media, is making a comeback. Longer than a post but shorter than a podcast, it is the written equivalent of a “Tiny Desk Concert” on NPR (another reason to give).

The “Tiny” format, where bands play a set in a library or an office, feels more intimate and accessible than a big concert. The online byline works similarly, allowing readers to experience a living thought in less time than a long video. While written, not filmed, my average article could easily be read aloud for those allergic to reading. Yes, it is TikTok compatible.

But that is not all that is going on here.

For me personally, “Artificial. Done Artfully” requires thinking in a manner that befuddles the machine. Non-sequiturs. Whimsicality. Writing to make life more interesting.

I am not saying that my newsletter is any of these things, but I try. Which is important if you want to attract readers instead of robots.

Then there is a technical reason. While it can be loosely formulated as “hallucination proof,” a byline written by a human is an opinion, not a prescription. A good columnist is a contrarian, not a cheerleader. AI, on the other hand, aims to please and freaks out when it can’t find answers.

Humans want answers, but it is more intriguing to stretch out the questions. A crime drama becomes dull if you discover the perpetrator too soon.

Best of all, if I can create a market for this stuff, anyone can. I take more pictures than type words, which renders my prose imperfect. Yet I believe there is more interest in the messy and inarticulate because it simply sounds real; Robots are less effective at dissing themselves because there is no self to cut down to size.

I wrote a post a few weeks back that explains why AI should not be trained to “feel” pain, because doing so would require imbuing it with a conscience. [1] I also wrote about how business may be recasting words like “artificial” and “conscience” to loosen up the ethical zeitgeist for future AI. [2] I am not powerful nor influential enough to change that dynamic, but I can still pose questions, because, unlike AI, I have agency.

And agency is artful.

Here’s to next year.

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