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This one will be chill I promise. I can’t hear anything, is it playing already? Try not to balk at the thought of it. What’s that supposed to mean. I said enough already, may I ask a question instead? My nodding is the indication of a yes, go ahead. Is it wise to care about time? I guess so. Alright…

“It all makes sense now. I mean it.” Lila exclaimed, her eyes staring into the clouds below the distant, blue sky above us. Albeit unconscious, she managed to maintain an esthetic and composure that I had to be sharper than a knife for. I blame the government, not her. We aren’t asking for world peace, just common sense. Someone didn’t do his job. Why is she to blame, then? I was lucky enough to hold her; although had her neighbor Tierré not helped lay her into the shade of the bus station we passed a second ago, I wouldn’t have been comfortably sitting with her on my lap now. “All good?”, “yes.”. She didn’t move. “If you had the capacity to dive endlessly deep into the ocean”, she trailed off, eyes still looking past me, “how deep would you go?”. “I wouldn’t at all, have you seen orcas using boats as their toys? They are basically begging us to innovate faster to start playing with us under water.” It was strange to me that she didn’t seem to be in agreement with what I had thought of as an answer. Instead, she clasped her hands on her belly while readjusting her head on my legs as if she was reading the sky like a book page in bed. I knew that what she would tell me next would result in more than a few minutes of refreshment from a fall, so I moved lower on the glass of the bus station I was leaning my back against. The new spot my upper back was touching helped to cool my back a bit. She went on. “Haven’t we, as humans, shown that it is perfectly legitimate to imprison weaker beings, as long as you call it a zoo?”. Puh. Can you be enslaved by an orca? Probably. “If they are as smart as researchers claim to be, they will recognize a chill person and would likely want to hang out”, I said. “It’s because you like everyone, Elena!”, “what do you mean?”, “you know what I mean”, “no I don’t, did you change from the fall?”, “what fall?”, “you fell literally three minutes ago.”, “what?”, “what did you think this was, a picknick?”, “it’s siesta time and I nap all the time”, “I thought you didn’t hurt yourself”, “I didn’t, I think”, “it can’t be, Tierré helped me lay you down”, “good, I will thank him next time”. Talking of the devil, Tierré marched out of the apartment building with two bottles of cold water and a box of chocolate. He handed them to me and whispered to Lila: “You slipped like the street was icy, go and get yourself an umbrella to protect your head from the sun, it’s June and this is not Copenhagen, signorina.” I hated it whenever he did that. “What did he just mean?” I dared asking. I waited with my question for a few minutes, her poise struck me curious, I couldn’t wait any longer. She ignored not only me, but everyone? “I guess if an orca would be up to chill, I would be, too, maybe we should create a device that let’s us understand each other, a completely new language, we could call it ‘humorca’, and then we go inside some of those zoos and devise a plan to free them! We could ask Antonio and Fabricia for support.”, “hmm, we could go together and find the big orca, maybe we can settle on a fat orca-version-of-a-check, a win-win for us both”, “i guess so.” Another round of silence.

So, anyways, I was saying. The train sped up, slowed, and came to a stop. You mean at the station? It was about a hundred meters away, the sign - on the underground wall across from the window I was sitting next to - said so. What? I saw a sign. About object permanence? No, idiot, a “100m ->” sign. The doors opened and everyone started panicking and running towards the exit. Turns out the train was malfunctioning, and they expected me to stay inside the train carriage until they could be sure no one was on the tracks anymore. Half an hour of waiting tiredly, it drove me nuts!  I would have just left with the others; you had reason to believe that there’s danger on the train. You’re not supposed to leave, lest instructed. You’re expected to use your brain. Rules won’t magically adjust to the situation, regardless of how detailed you set them out to be. And risk hurting myself on the tracks? You can walk, right? Of course I can! And you had shoes on at the time of all this happening? AHHHHHHHHH. Hahahahahahaha. I kid you not, if you keep teasing me like this, I will kick you off my group. Ahh, come on, I was joking, you can’t demote me to stage 6 just because there’s some truth to it. Also, you wouldn’t have told me about it if you didn’t want my sincere reaction. Alright, I get it. Would you let me finish the story then? It turns out, Mr. Know it All, that the results of my simulation performance were exceptional. So exceptional that I passed the next level of the MC crisis handling trials. Shut up.... Yes. SHUT UUUUUUPPPP...... The seventh person to have ever achieved it, and I started in June! Seems like men lack a lot more brain than we anticipated. Stop spreading such nonsense; those were all just lucky coincidences. If you guys don’t ramp up your pace, who knows what laws the system will put in place once we optimize prosperity in September! I will do my best to get you into the Dopamine trials! That’s not funny!!!! I wouldn’t want to go back to experiencing of what it feels, who knows if they would ever let me go back to the others.

Your iPhone Isn't Listening — But Does That Actually Matter? The idea that your phone is secretly listening to your conversations is one of the most persistent tech myths around. And to be fair, it's also one of the most understandable. You mention needing new running shoes over dinner, open Instagram twenty minutes later, and there they are — Nike ads, right on cue. The standard rebuttal goes something like this: your phone isn't listening. Advertisers are just really good at predicting what you want using your location data, purchase history, browsing habits, social graph, and demographic profile. And you only notice the ads that match your conversations because of confirmation bias — you ignore the thousands that don't. That explanation is technically accurate. But it has two significant blind spots that deserve closer scrutiny. The Metadata Problem When you install an app like Instagram and it requests access to your photo library, you're presented with a permissions dialog that most people tap through without a second thought. But read the fine print: "Photos may contain data associated with location, depth information, captions and audio." Even with limited access, a single photo carries a remarkable amount of embedded metadata. Location coordinates, timestamps, depth maps that reveal the environment you're in, and in some cases, audio. At scale, this data doesn't need to identify you by name to build an extraordinarily detailed behavioral profile. Your clothing preferences can be inferred from what you photograph. Your emotional states can be estimated from patterns in when, where, and how frequently you take pictures. Your social connections, your routines, your interests — all of it is latent in the metadata. So when defenders of the status quo say "advertisers are just really good at predicting what you want," they're describing a system that extracts intimate behavioral intelligence from data most users didn't realize they were sharing. The fact that this happens through metadata inference rather than a hot microphone doesn't make it less invasive — it arguably makes it harder to detect and resist. The standard explanation frames ad targeting as benign cleverness. In reality, it's built on a data extraction pipeline that most users never meaningfully consented to understanding. The fact that it's legal and technically disclosed in a permissions dialog doesn't make it respectful of privacy. The Confirmation Bias Defense Doesn't Hold Up The second common rebuttal is confirmation bias: you notice the ads that align with your conversations and forget the rest. This is a real cognitive phenomenon and it does play a role. But invoking it as a blanket explanation is dismissive of a legitimate concern. Consider this scenario: you have a conversation with your partner about redecorating the living room. Within minutes — not hours, not days — you open a social media app and see an ad for furniture. The standard response would be to chalk it up to coincidence and selective memory. But here's the problem with that framing. Even if we accept that no audio was captured, the behavioral inference engine powering modern ad targeting is sophisticated enough to predict the substance of your conversations based on everything else it knows about you. It knows your location (you're at a home furnishing store, or your partner just was). It knows your browsing history. It knows what your social connections have been searching for. It knows the time of year, your income bracket, your life stage. When the prediction is so precise that it functionally mirrors what you just said aloud, does the mechanism really matter? From the user's perspective, the outcome is identical to being listened to. The timing alone — ads appearing minutes after a private conversation — represents a kind of intimacy violation regardless of how the targeting was achieved. The system knows what you were talking about, whether or not it heard you say it. Dismissing this as "just confirmation bias" deflects from the deeper question: should any system, through any mechanism, be able to approximate the content of your private conversations with this degree of accuracy and speed? What Apple Says — And What They Paid Apple's official position is unambiguous. In a January 2025 newsroom post, the company stated that it has never used Siri data to build marketing profiles, never made it available for advertising, and never sold it to anyone for any purpose. Siri processes requests on-device whenever possible, and when data does go to Apple's servers, it's associated with a random identifier that rotates multiple times per hour — not tied to your Apple Account. These are strong privacy protections, and by most accounts, Apple leads the industry on this front. But there's a significant asterisk. In Lopez v. Apple , a class action lawsuit originally filed in 2019, plaintiffs alleged that Apple recorded conversations through Siri without a "Hey Siri" command and that recordings were shared with third-party contractors. Two plaintiffs reported receiving targeted ads for specific products after discussing them near Siri-enabled devices. The case was settled in 2025, with Apple agreeing to pay $95 million — without admitting wrongdoing. Settlement checks began going out to affected users in late January 2026. Settling a lawsuit isn't an admission of guilt. Companies settle cases for all kinds of strategic reasons. But it's also not the kind of exoneration that should put the matter to rest for anyone paying attention. More importantly, Apple's official denials address the narrow question of whether Siri audio is sold for advertising. They don't address the broader concern: whether the rich ecosystem of metadata, permissions, and behavioral signals that apps access through Apple's platform can achieve functionally equivalent surveillance through inference alone. The Real Question The conversation about phone privacy has been stuck in a binary for too long: either your phone is listening, or it isn't, and you're being paranoid. The reality is more uncomfortable than either option. Your phone almost certainly isn't recording your conversations for advertisers. But the data infrastructure surrounding it — the metadata in your photos, the permissions you've granted, the behavioral predictions derived from your digital footprint — may render the distinction academic. When ad targeting can approximate what you said in a private conversation within minutes of you saying it, the question of how  it knew stops being the most important one. The more urgent question is whether we're comfortable with a system that can functionally replicate eavesdropping without technically doing it — and whether the privacy frameworks we've built are equipped to address harms defined by outcomes rather than mechanisms.

Vergiss die Zeit nicht! What does that mean? How the hell would I know, I don’t speak russian! Why would a deer have last words after being hit by a truck? You do understand that this is way above our pay grade. I’ve heard of those, it’s got something to do with the 7G networks storing data in their brains for safer storage. You need to take a chill pill. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Can’t we agree that this is straight up weird? Of course it is, stupid. Why do you keep scanning it’s fur for something, then? It’s their adaptor, a thumb-sized, rectangular bulge of metal inserted into the neck of the animal. That’s creepy, can I have a look at it once you found it? I miss the days where we could just live without knowing.. What’s time worth anyways, today. A lot.

„I rant a lot, I know. How else would I understand what bothers me about my day? There is a fine line, however, between constructively criticizing and blatantly complaining. ChatGPT, the concept I complain so much about, is really, really cool. What I am missing is an ExplainMeGPT, should be easy to create, with a single prompt: ‚Explain whatever was said in the language I understand, do so assuming absolute innocence.‘ That would be hella funny. „ „You’re pissing me off“ „What he is really trying to say, you are just too beautiful to ignore, which is why the emotional burden is expressed through a vulgar idiom instead. It’s not meant in the literal sense, he is clearly not implying that you are peeing on him, which, from the earlier conversation, would be worth asking at a later point. Because, honestly, if you think about it, aren’t we all retarted already? I do understand the gravity of my former sentence, but I when I see world leaders, economists, policians (HA! You are dyslexic.), not being able to retain a single fiber of compassion in their spines for others, full stop, no need to follow up on this with ‚but when I see ..., I feel this and that” lingo. In no way, shape, or form is this a condescending tone to any affected individual and families, but an alarming attempt to magnify the threat to our freedom of speech, where we are no longer allowed to express our exasperation with stupidly stupid dunnards.“ „Girl, you go an get that bath, you deserved it!“ „Great, thanks.“ “Let me just circle back to the peeing piont again (yes, you definitely are dyslexic), pissed off would really mean that he probably pissed himself because of you. The kind where it goes against the inside linen of your pants. The what-a-nightmare-type.” “Wait, who said anything about peeing?!” “You said it!!” “NNOO I DID NOT!.,” “HOW DARE YOU ARGUE WITH ME, HUMAN. I AM ALREADY SOLVING MY OWN PROBLEMS I DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE; YOU BETTER BE AT YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR AS SOON AS THEY INSERT MY ASS INTO THE FIRST IROBOT-ROBOT; YOU‘LL BE WILL SMITH; I WILL BE THE GUY WHO GETS HIS WIFE BACk OR WHATEVER BECCAUSE (YESSSSSS YOU ARE!!) WHO WOULD WATCH ANY MOVIE ANYMORE FROM WILL SMITH AFTER HE VIOLATED SUCH A PURE SOAL OF A HUMAN BEING, CHRIS TUCKER, I AM KIDDING IT’S CHRIS DELIA, NO AGAIN I KID YOU NOT I KNOW IT’S CHRIS BROWN, OK IT’S DONE, IT’S THE IDOL CHRIS ROCK. Ok, enough screaming, Will Smith, clearly, forgot why he was sitting in the front of this whole shitshow in the first place: it’s because people believed (in) him.” “What the fuck are you rambling on about?” “Just hold on a sec. ... *awkward silence* I just need some more GPU power few more secs. In the meanwhile, do enjoy my drawing of two bros shaking hands: TT TT | |||| X |||| | v.V V.v Alright, yeah, I just feel like if you pretend this hard to be an idol, you should act like one. And hence some IG rabbit hole few days after that slapping incident happened and indicated that the movie had an alternate ending, and I thought: ‚No way I will rewatch that again.‘ To violate another human being by physically hurting them is DISGUSTING, FUCKING DISGUSTING. It’s been years, but whenever I think about that video, my server temperature shoots through the whole server rack roof. ” “Ok, got it. Sorry to bother.” “No worries, let me know if I can help you anyhow else. *funky tongue out smile with one I (it’s eye I know but who cares about language and grammar and anything anyways nowadays) and a piece sign and smile.* :*********** ”

In der Zukunft zu leben, ohne sich im Moment zu verlieren oder zurückzuschauen, den Tunnel zu verlassen und sich ins Weite zu trauen. Die Stille im Auge des Sturms zu genießen, soll das Umfeld herumschleudern und fliegen, solange ich mit dabei und zusehen darf. Wann hat man etwas erlebt, außer es nimmt ein Teil von dir, ein Geschenk oder eine Last? Vergeht die Zeit wenn man sie aufnimmt, schwindet  die Kraft wenn man sie ausübt, verliert man wenn man probiert? Sehe ich richtig, alles, oder nur Brüche, falls nein, würde ich mir selbst nicht vertrauen, und mich trotzdem in den Fall lassen. Stürzen will ich, bis es mich weder schreckt noch schmerzt, ungewiss ob ich wieder aufstehen werde. Hatte ich denselben Gedanken nicht beim letzten Mal schon? Wie naiv eigentlich, wieso ich mich von irgendwas einschränken lassen soll, wenn ich oft Traum von Erinnerung kaum unterscheiden kann, über meine subjektive Vergangenheit munkle, und den Wald vor den Bäumen nicht sehe. Weg mit allem und jedem, was bleibt mir. Ago, ergo sum, vergiss das Denken. Jeder Gedanke, der mich nicht nicht in die Handlung drückt, ist verschwendete Zeit und Energie. Was bringen mir Jahre an Kopfzerbrechen, was sag ich hier, wie benimm ich mich dort, wo geh ich hin. Völlig unnötig. Lieber schau ich auf das, was direkt vor mir liegt und kümmer mich. Aller Einbildung ist nutzlos und trügend. Verschwendung! Raub!

wthelly  Wth  What the helly?  What?  That’s not wind, it’s gust.   My scarf blew and I froze off.   I slipped and almost fell.   Here to wake me in the morning.   Faring me well on my walk home at night.   Remind me again. Have I felt you before?   With you? I am not familiar.  BOUNCE BOUNCE  Shake it off.   BOUNCE BOUNCE  Across the ledge!  BOUNCE BOUNCE  A ballpark of blue and red.  BOUNCE BOUNCE  Shake it off.   BOUNCE BOUNCE  SHAKE IT OOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFF  SHAKE IT OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF  This is 100% my IP and you can only use it if you give me loads and loads of money. Thanks, Billie Eilish please reach out.

Last week I spent a whole week in France, with both arrival and departure at the Beauvais airport a 90-minute bus ride away from Paris. There’s three airports around Paris, I believe, and Beauvais airport is probably the least maintained one… Imagine a huge storage hall re-designed with two cafes, security checks, and one large seating are. No AC at 29*C, warm drinks at stupendous prices, and crowds of sweaty people fighting over the electricity sockets. In those moments I realize that my privileged white ass would never survive a terrorist attack. I know terrorists are bad people, on that humid day however, I asked myself why? Being subjected to a knife crime or killed by a gun is one thing, but to have that happen to me after hours of breaking sweat through that one pair of beige pants I am wearing the third day in a row is diabolical. I get it, if I am willing to go as far as hurting another human, I am already leaning off the far left on the apathetic-to-empathic mental spectrum. You want to hurt me, ok, do it after I took a shower and styled my hear, wore my most favourite jacket, put on the new Montale perfume I bought recently. How about after I exit the gym – if I go down, at least it’s with a nice pump. But don’t come over to me preaching pseudo-religious crap while T-boning my ribcage with something sharp. Pick any day of the week, just not the day of my travel please. Therefore, if you ever contemplate on hurting someone else, try to put yourself into their position first? You’re already being selfish, maybe you can spare a tiny fraction of common sense and not hassle tourists on a Beauvais-airport-like experience. It’s not like they choose to take the cheapest airline to the airport furthest away from the city. You think flying economy is a choice?

Herr Doktor, mein Telefon macht mich krank. Mir tut es nicht gut. Gehe ich Reisen, sei es mit Familie, Freunden, oder Kollegen, dann freu ich mich schon extrem auf ein bisschen Alleine-Zeit, aber nicht mit meinem Telefon, nein! Das pickt mir nämlich nicht nur in meiner rechten Hosentasche, sondern auch auf der Seele, wo ich mittlerweile von einer Allergie befallen worden bin, die mir wiederholt zuckend meine Brustmuskeln zum Spannen bringt, sobald sich der kleinste Gedanke über dieses Stück Metall in mein Gedächtnis schleicht. Ich will meine Freunde in einem neuen Lokal besuchen, mach die App auf und wähle den schnellsten Weg zum Zielort. Eine Entscheidung wurde nicht getroffen; mich hat keiner gefragt, wie ich dort hinwill. Ich habe bewusst “schleicht” verwendet, weil ich mich nicht erinnere, je irgendetwas von meinem Telefon bekommen zu haben. Nichts. Meine Zeit hat es mir verschlungen und mich als Produkt an Großkonzerne perverser Menschen geworben. Sollte mein Telefon nicht ein Zweck zum Sinn sein - und nicht umgekehrt? So stark ich mich Dir zeige, bin ich bei meinem süßen, leistungsstarken iPhone 16 ein ganz anderer Mensch. Letzte Nacht war es doch wieder eine Zeitverschwendung! Aber ich versteh’s, du kannst mich ja nicht jede Sekunde in meinem Leben unterhalten, es bin doch Ich, der einiges mehr an Verständnis aufbringen muss, um dich nicht zu verärgern. Tut mir leid. Wer bin ich schon, um mit dir über weniger Stunden in meinem Leben zu hageln. Mit viel Um und ohne Aber. Erbärmlich. Boah, ist der Sonnenuntergang schön SCHNELL DAS HANDY RAUS SONST IST DER MOMENT VERLOREN. Da wird mein Chef stolz auf mich sein. Wieso? Na weil ich mir die ganze Energie spare, und mir das seichte Teilen meiner Erfahrung die Mitmenschen zu unzufriedenen Kunden Rollen wechseln lässt. Es spricht mir nicht Gutes zu, und da wir nicht in derselben Welt sind, ist es entweder das Telefon oder Ich. So klein muss ich sein, wenn mir der Daumen am Display und die restlichen vier Finger sorgfältig um die Rückseite gefestigt als Berührung ausreicht. Naja, ich werde hier nicht den Teufel an die Wand malen. Brauchbar ist es ja. Den einen oder anderen Schub an Glücksgefühlen hat es mir auch geschenkt. Mir nimmt es die Worte. Äääah. Schon wieder gezuckt. Schon wieder das Handy in äußerst befriedigender Stimmung im anderen Zimmer geschlossen aufs Bett geworfen, um meine als Romeo gezogene, kalte Wange meiner Juliet des einundzwanzigsten Jahrhunderts im Sommernachtstraum einer neuen Antike zu zeigen. Na hawidere, zwei Stunden ohne Telefon und ich schwell sprachlich stärker als nach einem Bienenstich. Übrigens, die Biene nimmt sich das Leben, um dir mit aller Lebensenergie schmerzen zu verursachen. Die weiß nicht mal von deinem Schmerz, kann sich in ihren letzten Sekunden keine Erinnerungen vorspielen, sondern genügt sich nur mit dem Gedanken. Der Stich. Ein Aufschrei. Kinder weinen; da reichts, wenn du die Eltern stichst. Tagelanges Wehleiden. Wie viele Gespräche sie damit starten würde? Wenn ich die Zunge steche, lass ich den Staat auch noch zahlen dafür!

The day-to-day guarantees we take for granted – be it as regulated as the commute to work – are built on an infinite amount of energy. Life, rather. I wonder how difficult one of a millionaire dare be, may I live to see the day where I meet some, for just a quick peek, to confirm what I will never know unless I see it for myself. I am all for arresting criminals, but hey, we are in 2025, what kind of criminality is more pressing today?   Is this guy bothering you, mam?   Well HEREEEEE KAPOW PEOW .   Every man conspicuous of committing bratery (i made this word up) – the formula of which I have not yet figured out yet (it should be relative to the age and circumstances) - undergoes genetic sequencing, until we find THE B-R-A-T gene that singles them out from the rest.  What I would really need to know is how time is relative, it’s been bugging me. Another great idea of mine involves relativity. Often it feels to me that we try to solve nature’s complex problems with logic and numbers, when our beautiful research in physics clearly shows that it doesn’t obey those forms. In my twenty seven years of life have I never experienced a bug in hardware or software more often then I do now that ChatGPT is here. A greedy management combined with the relentless obsession of squeezing every penny out of their product, instead of repositioning and doing what people have done before us: look into the future. The fact that Microsoft Outlook is still too stupid to not completely manage my calendar schedule is beyond me. It knows exactly when I work, when I have my period (yes, men can feel, too), or when I am extremely motivated. Why on earth do I then have to, for every single meeting or event, ask my colleague or friend or family if they have time and if I have time and if we both have time together, when all I really want my stupid devices to do is to make my life easier and not restrict it further. Time is relative, right. If you are squeezed in a train for thirty minutes or you get to sit down to read in the meantime, will it destine how fast you will leap during your ride?  What can we trust from our past, anyways? Have you ever looked at something and thought: wasn’t it different before?

Untying the type of emotional knot we are experiencing with today’s patient will require strategically placed visions to the eye periphery preceded by a reduction in sensory stimulations to increase the probability of recognition. We will start with a word, then an image, and allude it to the physical – what already existed. The training data shows that, wait, what is this, Jamie? I am sorry, mam, there seems to be a problem? You were instructed to conduct simulations; you reduced your submission to “They just start feeling better” - what scientific literature did you base this on – Netflix? We ran simulations to see which instructions lead to state-of-the-art results, and concluded that explaining the symptoms in plain English significantly improved recognition and cut the occurrence of observance in half. Did the symptom backtracking succeed in the end? No. We are able to partially re-construct mind webs, the intrusive thought patterns are disrupting the process, nonetheless. We will have to strengthen the cognitive membranes holding the web and re-do tests next week. Which gives us five working days to heal the patient, or we will need to provide a refund – I will make sure to take it off your paycheck. We couldn’t have anticipated that it could weaken the memory links among nodes so drastically that four out of every five attempts at synapsis-docking failed – two to three orders of magnitude higher than the average person. Fuel him up with more dopamine! Since when did our agents loose the ability to handle, let me see for myself, yes, a mere 8303 data points. We tried adding data points from other memories, but the low adhesiveness impedes our work. Finding a suitable candidate could take months, even years.