a website that wants to delete itself
a website that was crafted in the untamed pagan wilderness, one thousand years before our king ascended to the throne, and which will live on in the furtive, secret shadows of the realm, one thousand years after that throne is naught but dust
a website that always seems to be in far worse condition than when you left it. the stones fall from its very walls, and the raw HTML peeks through in places. it shouldn’t be this decrepit — you just updated the codebase last week, didn’t you? didn’t you? but that can’t be right...this dust looks years old...
a website that allows you to watch it as it fearlessly ages; watch the shifting gazes of countless browser generations shape and malform it, from the fifty percent grey mists of our distant digital past, far into the hyperlink blue yonder
a website with a small cadre of close, personal friends
a website that is pivoting to a career in forestry and conservation
a website with unfinished business, doomed forever to haunt the ‘Net
Ultimately, whether LLMs "work" as a technology or not doesn't matter. The widespread adoption and deployment should be regarded firstly as a threat to the labor force.
On the eve of the new year, 2025, I was possessed by the spirit of adventure, and drove to Wyoming in the middle of the night. Hijinks, as is eternally their way, ensued.
Plenty of work was done, plenty of websites made. Here's a recap of everything I did that has nothing at all to do with work or websites.
There's a growing attitude in the technology industry is that LLM technology is or will be the next great innovation to our work, but uncritical adoption will be disastrous for labor rights.
It's time for a new paradigm for how we treat folks that ask us for help.