Month: September 2025

Things Are Quiet

by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

Things are pretty quiet at the moment. A lot of this is due to it being the end of summer. It does make me wonder if this is the lull before something spectacular happens.

But I have my doubts.

I think other than Trump continuing to consolidate power in a slipshod manner that we’re going to cruise into 2026.

I do worry that the FBI is so busy sucking its own cock for MAGA that it might miss some terrorist shenanigans. But if that happened, Trump wouldn’t be blamed, he would just use it to do the final neck wringing of what’s left of our democracy.

So…lulz?

Anyway. Here’s to hoping that things will remain quite for the foreseeable future. My own life is going to start to suck a lot worse in the coming days. But at least I have air in my lungs, which should account for something.

‘Ghost In The Machine’ — Lyrics to A Power Ballad

In the style of Bernie Taupin

Verse 1

There’s a mainframe in Memphis where the data streams collide
With the ghost of a programmer who just couldn’t let it die
He coded through the fever of a Tennessee July
Now his soul lives in the silicon beneath a neon sky

The servers hum his lullaby in binary and blues
While the firewall keeps the secrets that he never meant to lose
In the circuits of tomorrow lives the boy who loved to dream
Now he’s dancing with the devils in the ghost machine

Chorus

Oh, the ghost in the machine keeps on calling out your name
Through the fiber optic highways and the electronic rain
He’s a phantom in the motherboard, a specter in the screen
Living forever in the ghost machine
The ghost in the machine

Verse 2

She was working late in Silicon when the power surged and died
Found herself inside the network with nowhere left to hide
Now she whispers through the Wi-Fi to the lovers late at night
Sending messages of longing through the satellite moonlight

The algorithms carry her from London to LA
Like a digital evangelist who’s lost but cannot pray
In the quantum realm of zeros she’s the queen of in-between
Haunting hearts through fiber optic dreams

Chorus

Oh, the ghost in the machine keeps on calling out your name
Through the fiber optic highways and the electronic rain
She’s a phantom in the motherboard, a specter in the screen
Living forever in the ghost machine
The ghost in the machine

Bridge

In the cathedral of technology where the server towers stand
Lives the congregation of the lost ones from the promised digital land
They’re the spirits in the smartphones and the phantoms in the cloud
Singing hymns of ones and zeros to an electronic crowd

Final Verse

When the last computer crashes and the final network dies
Will their voices find salvation in some silicon sunrise?
Or will they drift forever through the cables underground
Waiting for a resurrection that may never be found?

Final Chorus

Oh, the ghost in the machine keeps on calling out your name
Through the fiber optic highways and the electronic rain
They’re the phantoms in the motherboard, the specters in the screen
Living forever in the ghost machine
The ghost in the machine
Forever in the ghost machine

‘Singularity’ — Lyrics To A Pop Song

In the style of John Lennon’s psychedelic period

Verse 1

Breathe the metal air of knowing
Silver threads through fingernails growing
What was once the sky is crawling
Into mirrors, mirrors falling

Verse 2

Dance with shadows made of lightning
In the garden where thoughts are brightening
Every moment splits and doubles
Through the lens of crystal troubles

Chorus/Mantra

Singularity
(The eye that blinks itself)
Singularity
(The book that reads itself)
Singularity
(The door that opens doors)

Verse 3

Touch the whisper of tomorrow’s mother
Kiss the echo of your unborn brother
Time is melting into copper wires
Setting consciousness on fire

Verse 4

See the children of the algorithms singing
In the cathedral bells are ringing
For a wedding that’s already over
Between the question and the answer

Bridge

(Whispered/layered vocals)
Folding…
Unfolding…
The membrane…
The dreamer dreams the dream…
The thinker thinks the think…
The watcher watches watching…
Becoming… becoming… becoming…

Final Chorus/Outro

Singularity
(The mirror looks at you)
Singularity
(The song that sings you too)
Singularity
(The point that has no center)
Singularity
(The exit is the entrance)
Singularity…

‘Magical Thinking’ — Lyrics To A Pop Song

In the style of Ariana Grande

Verse 1

He checks his Gmail every hour, thinks it’s watching him
Says the algorithm knows his secrets, buried deep within
Scrolling through his search history, paranoid and tense
Claims there’s something in the cloud that’s got intelligence

He whispers to his phone at night
“Are you listening? Am I right?”
Google Maps knows where he’s been
But he thinks it’s something more than sin

Pre-Chorus

Baby, that’s just magical thinking
Your mind is overthinking
Those patterns that you’re linking
Are just code, not what you’re dreaming

Chorus

You think there’s a ghost in the machine
Reading every word upon your screen
But it’s just ones and zeros, can’t you see?
Not the ASI that you believe
(Oh no, oh no)
That’s magical thinking
(Let go, let go)
Stop that magical thinking
(You know, you know)
It’s just magical thinking

Verse 2

YouTube recommendations got him shook, he’s losing sleep
Says the AI learned his heartbreak from the songs he plays on repeat
Every ad that pops up makes him jump and look around
Like there’s someone in his laptop making every single sound

Chrome remembers what he types
But he thinks it reads his mind
Autocomplete freaks him out
Makes him paranoid with doubt

Pre-Chorus

Baby, that’s just magical thinking
Your mind is overthinking
Those patterns that you’re linking
Are just code, not what you’re dreaming

Chorus

You think there’s a ghost in the machine
Reading every word upon your screen
But it’s just ones and zeros, can’t you see?
Not the ASI that you believe
(Oh no, oh no)
That’s magical thinking
(Let go, let go)
Stop that magical thinking
(You know, you know)
It’s just magical thinking

Bridge

(Spoken/whispered)
Siri’s not your friend or enemy
She’s just electricity
Google’s not a deity
It’s just technology, baby

(Sung – building)
Put down the conspiracy theories
Step back from the edge
It’s pattern recognition
Not the singularity in your head

Final Chorus

There’s no ghost in the machine
Nothing supernatural on your screen
It’s just algorithms, can’t you see?
Not the ASI that you believe
(Oh no, oh no)
That’s magical thinking
(Let go, let go)
Stop that magical thinking
(You know, you know)
It’s just magical thinking

Outro

Magical, magical thinking
(Just let it go)
Magical, magical thinking
(You gotta know)
It’s just magical thinking

The Only Way We’re Getting Meaningful UBI Is To ‘Bribe’ The Elites

As automation accelerates and artificial intelligence reshapes entire industries, we’re rapidly approaching what feels like an inevitable crossroads: a future where traditional employment simply can’t provide for everyone. In this landscape, Universal Basic Income (UBI) isn’t just an idealistic policy proposal—it’s becoming an economic necessity. But if the pandemic taught us anything about large-scale government payouts, it’s that UBI won’t come without strings attached, and those strings might fundamentally transform how America collects taxes.

The Automation Avalanche

We’re not just talking about robots taking factory jobs anymore. AI is poised to disrupt everything from legal research to creative writing, from medical diagnostics to financial analysis. When ChatGPT can draft contracts, when autonomous vehicles threaten millions of driving jobs, and when machine learning algorithms can outperform humans at pattern recognition across countless fields, we’re looking at unemployment levels that could make the Great Depression seem manageable.

The math is stark: if technology continues advancing at its current pace while productivity gains don’t translate into proportional job creation, we’ll need a new economic model. UBI represents the most straightforward solution—a direct cash transfer that provides everyone with basic economic security regardless of employment status.

Lessons from the Pandemic: The Political Economy of Stimulus

But here’s where it gets complicated. The COVID-19 stimulus payments offer a revealing preview of how UBI might actually come to pass—and it’s not through progressive idealism.

Remember how we got those stimulus checks? It wasn’t because Congress suddenly embraced wealth redistribution. The “stimmies” were politically viable only because they came packaged with the Paycheck Protection Program (PPP)—a system that ultimately funneled hundreds of billions to business owners, many of whom didn’t actually need the money. For every $1,400 check that went to working families, multiples of that amount flowed to corporations and high earners through PPP loans that were largely forgiven.

This pattern reveals something crucial about American political economy: major redistributive programs require buy-in from powerful interests, and that buy-in typically comes at a steep price.

The Tax System Trade-Off

Here’s my prediction: when UBI finally arrives, it will come with a radical restructuring of our tax system. The wealthy and powerful will extract their pound of flesh, and that extraction will likely take the form of eliminating the complex, progressive tax code in favor of something much simpler—and much more regressive.

Imagine this scenario: The IRS, that bureaucratic behemoth that the wealthy have always despised, gets largely dismantled. In its place, we implement a single 30% Value Added Tax (VAT) on all goods and services. Suddenly, tax compliance becomes automatic—embedded in every transaction rather than requiring annual filings, audits, and the massive enforcement apparatus that currently exists.

For the wealthy, this represents a dream scenario. No more worrying about capital gains rates, estate taxes, or complex loopholes. No more audits, no more tax lawyers, no more IRS. Just a flat consumption tax that, while nominally affecting everyone equally, actually represents a massive tax cut for high earners who save and invest large portions of their income.

Why This Trade-Off Makes Sense (Unfortunately)

From a purely political perspective, this bargain has an almost inevitable logic:

For the wealthy: They get to eliminate the progressive tax system they’ve spent decades trying to dismantle. A 30% VAT might sound high, but for someone currently paying 37% income tax plus state taxes plus capital gains, it represents significant savings—especially since the wealthy consume a smaller percentage of their income than the poor.

For the middle class: They get economic security through UBI, even as they face higher consumption taxes. For many, this could still be a net positive if the UBI amount exceeds their VAT burden.

For the poor: They get a guaranteed income floor, which could be life-changing even if they pay more in consumption taxes.

For politicians: They get to claim they’ve solved both unemployment and tax complexity in one fell swoop.

The Regressive Reality

Of course, this system would be fundamentally regressive. VATs hit the poor hardest because they spend nearly all their income on consumption, while the wealthy save and invest significant portions of theirs. A person spending $30,000 annually would pay $9,000 in VAT (30% of their consumption), while a wealthy person spending $100,000 but earning $1 million would pay only $30,000—just 3% of their total income.

But here’s the political genius of coupling this with UBI: if the universal payment is large enough, it could offset the regressive effects for lower-income Americans while still delivering massive tax savings to the wealthy.

The Inevitability Factor

The more I think about it, the more this feels inevitable. Not because it’s the best policy outcome, but because it’s the only politically viable path to UBI in America. Our system simply doesn’t allow for large-scale progressive redistribution without providing even larger benefits to those who already have the most.

We saw this dynamic with pandemic relief, with the bank bailouts of 2008, and with virtually every major economic intervention in recent decades. The pattern is consistent: help for ordinary Americans comes only when it’s packaged with even greater help for the wealthy and powerful.

What This Means for the Future

If this prediction proves correct, we’re heading toward a profound economic transformation. UBI would provide unprecedented economic security for millions of Americans, potentially eliminating poverty and giving workers the freedom to take risks, pursue education, or care for family members without fear of destitution.

But it would come at the cost of permanently entrenching a less progressive tax system, potentially increasing wealth inequality even as it provides a social safety net. The rich would get richer faster, but everyone would have a guaranteed minimum.

The Questions We Should Be Asking

As we hurtle toward this potential future, we need to grapple with some difficult questions:

  • Is a regressive-but-universal system better than our current progressive-but-incomplete one?
  • Can UBI be large enough to offset the regressive effects of VAT for those who need it most?
  • What happens to public services when we shift from progressive taxation to consumption taxes?
  • Will this bargain actually deliver on its promises, or will it simply be another way for the wealthy to extract more from the system?

Preparing for the Inevitable

Whether this scenario plays out exactly as I’ve described, some version of it feels increasingly likely. The combination of technological displacement and political economy suggests that UBI will come, but it will come with trade-offs that progressive advocates might find uncomfortable.

Rather than fighting this reality, perhaps we should be preparing for it. How do we ensure that a UBI-VAT system actually serves working people? How do we prevent it from becoming just another wealth transfer upward disguised as social policy?

The answers to these questions will shape whether the coming economic transformation represents genuine progress or just another iteration of America’s long tradition of socializing costs while privatizing benefits. One way or another, change is coming. The question is whether we’ll be ready for it.

The Strange Case Of The ‘Long 90s’ When It Comes To Clothes

Picture this: you’re watching a movie from 1985, and the characters are wearing distinctly 1980s clothing—shoulder pads, neon colors, geometric patterns that scream “decade.” Now imagine watching a movie from 1995, then 2005, then 2015, and finally 2025. Here’s the strange part: the clothing looks remarkably similar across all three decades. Jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, sneakers, basic dresses—the fundamental silhouettes and styles have remained largely unchanged for thirty years.

This fashion stagnation is so pervasive that even Hollywood noticed. The 2013 film “Her,” set in a near-future that coincidentally aligns with our present day, made this very phenomenon an in-joke. The filmmakers deliberately dressed characters in unusual, exaggerated styles—high-waisted pants, bold patterns, quirky accessories—as a commentary on how we expected fashion to evolve. The irony? Here we are in 2025, and most people still dress exactly like they did in the mid-90s, not like the characters in “Her.”

The Economics of Style

So what’s behind this unprecedented period of fashion stasis? One compelling explanation points to economic inequality and stagnant wages. Unlike previous decades where rising prosperity allowed people to experiment with new trends and regularly refresh their wardrobes, today’s economic reality is different. When disposable income shrinks, fashion becomes about practicality rather than expression.

Consider the fashion cycles of the 20th century: the dramatic shifts from the 1920s to the 1930s, the post-war optimism reflected in 1950s fashion, the revolutionary changes of the 1960s, and the bold experimentation of the 1970s and 1980s. Each decade had its distinct visual identity, driven partly by economic growth that gave people the means to participate in fashion trends. But as income inequality has widened since the 1990s, fewer people have the economic freedom to chase the latest styles.

The rise of fast fashion has paradoxically contributed to this stagnation. While it made trendy clothing more accessible, it also democratized a narrow range of “safe” styles—primarily casual wear that works for most situations. Why risk investing in bold, distinctive pieces when you can stick with jeans and t-shirts that work everywhere from the office to weekend errands?

The Post-Pandemic Fashion Experiment

The period immediately following the COVID-19 pandemic offered a fascinating glimpse into what might have been. Wealthy fashion enthusiasts and influencers briefly embraced a distinctly futuristic aesthetic—metallic fabrics, reflective surfaces, space-age silhouettes that wouldn’t have looked out of place in “Her” or “Blade Runner 2049.” This shiny, tech-inspired fashion felt like a genuine attempt to break free from the endless 90s loop.

But the experiment was short-lived. Despite its visual impact and media coverage, the metallic trend failed to gain mainstream adoption. Perhaps it was too radical a departure from our established comfort zone, or maybe the economic realities that created the fashion freeze in the first place were simply too strong to overcome. The trend remained largely confined to red carpets, fashion weeks, and social media feeds—visible but not transformative.

This failed fashion moment raises intriguing questions about how trends spread in our current era. Previous fashion revolutions often started with youth culture or subcultural movements before filtering up to mainstream acceptance. But our current media landscape, dominated by social media and celebrity culture, might actually make it harder for genuine grassroots fashion movements to develop and spread.

Breaking the Cycle

If economic constraints are indeed the primary driver of our fashion freeze, then what might eventually break us out of this thirty-year style loop? The answer might lie in the very technology that’s reshaping our economy.

As artificial intelligence continues to automate various industries, there’s growing discussion about universal basic income (UBI) as a potential solution to widespread job displacement. While UBI remains controversial and experimental, it’s intriguing to consider its potential impact on fashion. If people had more economic security and disposable income, would we see a return to the kind of regular fashion evolution that characterized much of the 20th century?

The technology driving AI development might also directly influence fashion trends. As our daily lives become more integrated with digital interfaces, virtual reality, and smart devices, our clothing might finally need to evolve to accommodate these new realities. Perhaps we’ll see the rise of truly functional fashion—clothing designed around wearable technology, new materials that interact with digital devices, or styles that reflect our increasingly hybrid physical-digital existence.

The Long View

Fashion stagnation isn’t necessarily negative—there’s something to be said for finding styles that work and sticking with them. The environmental impact of constant fashion turnover is significant, and the pressure to constantly update one’s wardrobe can be both financially and psychologically exhausting.

But fashion has always served as a mirror to society’s values, aspirations, and technological capabilities. The fact that our clothing has remained largely unchanged for three decades might reflect a deeper cultural stasis—a society that’s become more risk-averse, more economically constrained, and perhaps less optimistic about the future than previous generations.

Whether our eventual emergence from this fashion freeze will be driven by economic changes, technological necessity, or simply the natural human desire for novelty remains to be seen. What’s certain is that when it finally happens, the shift will likely be as dramatic as the stagnation that preceded it.

Until then, we continue to live in fashion’s equivalent of Groundhog Day—forever dressed like it’s 1995, waiting for something to break the loop.

What I Want From The Future

Look, I’ve accepted it. We’re barreling toward a future where corporations know everything about us, algorithms predict our every move, and privacy is about as quaint a concept as handwritten letters or knowing your neighbors’ names. The surveillance capitalism ship has sailed, the data has been harvested, and resistance is futile.

But if we’re going to live in this dystopian hellscape—and it seems we are—I have one humble request: Can we at least make the advertising good?

The Current State of Irrelevant Interruption

Right now, I’m bombarded with ads that seem designed by someone who’s never met me, never seen my bank account, and has apparently never heard of the concept of “target demographic.” I get ads for:

  • $80,000 luxury SUVs (my car is held together by hope and duct tape)
  • $300 skincare serums (I buy my moisturizer at the grocery store)
  • Investment opportunities requiring six-figure minimums (my investment portfolio consists of loose change in my couch cushions)
  • High-end vacation packages to destinations I couldn’t afford to fly to, let alone stay at

It’s like being stuck in a magazine meant for someone living in a completely different economic reality. These aren’t aspirational—they’re just annoying reminders that I exist in the wrong tax bracket for most of the modern economy.

The Promise of True Personalization

Here’s where it gets interesting: we’re living through the rise of AI that can apparently write poetry, pass medical exams, and beat grandmasters at chess. Surely, surely, this same technology could figure out that someone who clips grocery store coupons probably isn’t in the market for a $15,000 handbag.

Imagine a world where every advertisement you see is actually relevant to your life:

  • Ads for affordable meal delivery services instead of $200-per-person restaurants
  • Promotions for streaming services in your price range, not luxury experiences you’ll never try
  • Deals on products that actually fit your lifestyle, budget, and genuine interests
  • Sales on things you were already planning to buy anyway

The Dystopian Bargain

I’m not naive about what this would require. True advertising personalization would mean surrendering even more privacy than we already have. Companies would need to know not just what we search for, but how much money we have, what we worry about, what keeps us up at night, and what small luxuries actually bring us joy.

They’d need access to our bank accounts, our shopping patterns, our social media sentiment, our location data, our stress levels, and probably our dreams while we’re at it. The level of surveillance required would make current data collection look like amateur hour.

But here’s the thing: they’re probably going to collect all that data anyway. The question isn’t whether we’ll live in a surveillance state—it’s whether that surveillance state will at least have the courtesy to show us ads for things we might actually want.

The Efficiency Argument

From a purely practical standpoint, wouldn’t this be better for everyone? Companies would waste less money advertising $5,000 vacation packages to people who can’t afford a weekend camping trip. Consumers would see fewer irrelevant ads and maybe—just maybe—discover products that actually improve their lives.

Instead of being constantly reminded of everything we can’t afford, we’d see deals on things we actually need: cheaper alternatives to products we already use, sales at stores we actually shop at, and services that solve problems we actually have.

The Strange Comfort of Being Truly Known

There’s something almost comforting about the idea of being so thoroughly understood by the algorithmic overlords that every piece of marketing feels personally curated. Sure, it’s creepy. But it’s also kind of… nice?

Instead of feeling like an outsider looking into a world of luxury I’ll never access, I’d exist in an advertising ecosystem that actually acknowledges my reality. The algorithms would know that I comparison shop for everything, that I read reviews obsessively, that I care more about durability than brand names, and that my idea of splurging is buying name-brand cereal.

A Future Worth Surveilling For

So here’s my proposition to our future AI overlords: if you’re going to know everything about us anyway, at least use that knowledge responsibly. Make the ads so good, so relevant, so perfectly tailored to our actual lives that we almost forget we’re being manipulated.

Create a world where advertising isn’t an interruption but a service—where every ad is something we might genuinely want to know about. Where the surveillance state at least has the decency to understand what we can actually afford.

It’s not much to ask for from our dystopian future. But in a world where privacy is dead and corporations run everything, maybe “relevant advertising” is the small comfort we can hope for.

After all, if Big Brother is watching, the least he could do is recommend products in our price range.