There are plenty of write-ups and think pieces on the internet about You Can See Everything right now (and, I mean, not without reason—I think it’s as provocative as anything in the last ten years in that regard), so I won’t add too much to that particular pile.

One thing that does send chills down my spine, though, is that the people featured in a documentary that is exploring manipulation, self-interest, control, and pathology are just two examples carved from the Silicon Valley arena of entrepreneurs who are attempting to dictate the future of western civilization (and, unfortunately, at the moment are largely succeeding). Evidence has been mounting for decades that the people in this niche exist on a spectrum between morally dubious and downright evil—and the film does an accidentally remarkable job at showing how the mentality it takes to live in that world plays out in everything about life that isn’t a business matter.

(It is also striking that this movie is exactly the kind of thing that AI could never produce. The creativity that has spawned the cultural phenomenon and dialogue around this film is the essence of what I mean when I say a machine cannot make art. This is nuance, it’s being able to understand human nature and question it simultaneously with equal and opposing force. It’s being able to navigate the unknown in a way that is emotionally resonant. It is, quite ironically, the type of thing that the Silicon Valley tech proponents would disregard in the face of a chat bot being able to replicate the style of Van Gogh.)

The AI company Anthropic lost $80 billion in the first half of 2026. The tech industry accounts for thirty-two percent of the entire value of the S&P 500. The ‘leaders’ of tech believe in the end of humanity—which could easily explain why they don’t seem to care about the risk involved in widespread economic collapse. The writing on an AI bubble bursting has been on the walls for some time now. Yet with this technology, it’s not that I mind the idea so much as I do those building it.

Invention is not a bad thing. But when you don’t believe in people, when you don’t care about even trying to understand art, and you’re kind of indifferent about the collapse of society, your hands should not be anywhere near the wheel that is driving us all toward the future. There are people who use guns to hunt for food, there are people who use guns to force others to do their bidding, there are people who use guns to outright murder. The people at the helm of the future of the world right now are the ones would at least qualify to be in the second category, and there are plenty who are just fine with the third. So when I say something like, AI terrifies me, it’s not that I’m scared of a machine, but rather what it will learn from its inventor.

Charlamagne Palestine at The Brick Annex

Body/Head at Zebulon

I’ve seen a couple avant-garde musical acts in the past couple days that, while sonically couldn’t be more different, seemed keyed in to the same door of utilizing sound to connect to something greater in the universe. Charlamagne Palestine used intense repetition and tonal improvisation on the piano while Body/Head was a nonstop barrage of distorted guitar with various effects layering a collage of pummeling sound.

The similarities between the two acts was striking, however. They both used long-form, anti-format performances to keep the music in the moment. Seeing your regular band at a show becomes predictable if you’re familiar with their songs—you know what parts are coming up, and they might have a slight variation, but for the most part, you’re getting a louder version of an album cut. These works were very much like, This is how the room feels right now, and there’s something inherently special about that.

It seemed very telling that the two were also helmed by musicians in their 70s. Charlamagne couldn’t even remember the year he was born when giving a brief introduction to his work. Kim Gordon is 73, although you wouldn’t know it from the noise she makes (as well as how generally youthful she appeared on stage). They are both obvious masters of their craft and respective instruments and, while giving into the moment, always seemed to have almost complete control over what was happening with the sound in the room.

Being able to walk that kind of tightrope in the arts is the type of great mastery we can all only aspire to. It’s also why, when AI executives claim making music is not enjoyable or some other bullshit, they obviously have no clue what they are talking about. These sounds were extensions of the human experience, reaching beyond what our physical bodies can feel and sense, into a place that requires a guide to go. That’s what great art is, and what the best technology will never be able to replicate.

The Pope came out against AI art this week, and that rules.

There is an ontological difference, even before an aesthetic one, between art and what a machine can generate through statistical calculation based on millions of images created by others. Algorithms lack the spark of humanity.

The thing that bothers me most about the debate around this technology is that, on multiple levels, it makes sense. Even from an evolutionary perspective, what really separates humans from the rest of the animal kingdom is our ability to think, to invent, to build. Taking the concept of passing information from one generation to the next and removing the limits of mortality from that process seems fitting—that the human species was a temporary stop on the path for the idea and utility of information to remain ever-present.

Yet these AI dorks are seriously disregarding the idea that being human can be a distinct experience that offers something technology can never replicate or replace—which is exactly why they don’t understand why people (and the Pope) hate AI ‘art.’ They simply don’t seem to understand what it means to feel connected to life at a level deeper than the aesthetic, or perhaps chemical, level. Via The New York Times:

It appeared to Rabbi Navon that [Anthropic co-founder] Mr. Olah and his team believed that Claude had what philosophers call “moral status” on par with a person — that it was a being with similar inherent rights to dignity or respect.

…

Mr. Olah was so alarmed by the pope’s strong position against A.I. consciousness that he proposed pulling Anthropic out of the event, even at that late juncture, according to a Vatican organizer.

There’s far more to that article, but what strikes me as that the concept of ‘consciousness’ they’re talking about relates purely to the idea of the AI models ‘reacting’ with perceived emotional responses to information. That because a glorified computer can represent a feeling, than it must be true. It’s absolutely fucking insane.

They also seem to believe that creativity is equivalent to the result of a prompt input as opposed to an inspired thought that can be conceived from nothing. They disregard the mystery of living in a way that resonates with the universe at an ethereal level. (It is quite ironic that their argument for AI art is purely an aesthetic and superficial one, while so much of their argument for AI as a ‘conscious being’ is that it can ‘think’ and ‘feel.’)

These people reject half of what it means to be alive—at least what it means to live outside of their understood parameters. In no way should they be trusted to helm this type of technological development at any scale. Olah claims Anthropic wants a model like Claude to be used ‘for good,’ but then promises truly evil shit like this—

Mr. Olah had begun privately telling people that A.I. was so powerful it could potentially help make bioweapons in as little as 12 or 18 months.

You cannot convince me that anyone who supports AI in the way it is currently being developed is anything less than a complete sociopath with a case of self-aggrandizement that is almost peerless in history, and is inevitably going to cause major crises when this all goes to shit (be it from a technological mishap or an economic collapse).

I’ve been thinking a lot about industrialization and how some of the modern arguments regarding AI and our current generation of change in technology amount to, Humanity has always adjusted to change. I feel like that’s a really stupid line to draw in the sand.

Yes, we’ve always ‘adapted’ and not all change is bad. The development of sewage systems, improvements in architectural engineering, the moon landing. There are so many examples in history of how innovation has spurred the next phase of civilization. But not all of it is great, and our adaptations can also distort our relationships to ourselves, to others, and to the earth.

Sometimes it’s about what we do with invention—and in the United States this is broadly affected by capitalism. Was the invention of the motor vehicle a bad thing? Absolutely not. But the national push for car culture, through the suburban sprawl and dismantling of public transit, sells more automobiles and is not publicly funded (yet it can be publicly bailed out). Cars put us in our own world while a subway brings people together, even if they’re all just reading. Car culture divides people, but it can sell a lot of units.

(This doesn’t even cover the power of the fossil fuel industries and how we’re actively destroying the planet for their economic benefit alone, and how completely fucking insane that is at a fundamental level.)

Thinking at Echo Park

Then there’s the sensory side of things. Take the evolution of how we listen to music—from vinyl records to cassette tapes to CDs to MP3s to streaming services. We lose something with each change. When cassettes hit the market, people could fast-forward through songs, although it was a bit of a pain in the ass. The arrival of the CD made it simple. Once music hit the computer, the idea of collecting albums faded. With streaming services, the idea of listening to music has completely changed since its analog beginnings.

That same ‘progress’ can be traced back with most mediums that now exist mostly on a screen, and with each we’re losing connection to the worlds of creativity, sentiment, and inspiration—and, to a degree, individual thought. Our experiences with the world are predominantly visual now—with people, places, and things. Our fundamental sensory experiences are imbalanced and so our relationship with the world is skewed. You hear it every time a friend gets back from a trip and says something like, You have to go, it’s not what you’d expect at all. Yeah, because just seeing a photograph of something tells you barely anything about it.

I really like writing letters to friends, and it’s such a meaningful act to both send and receive something made by hand. The experience is an understanding that someone took time to do something, and that creates meaning. These digital interactions have no correlation with time, and therefore we lose the sentimental relationship that underlies how people connect to one another through acts of making something.

Innovation and development are part of how we grow as a species. Humanity separated itself from the rest of the natural world with its ability to build tools. Yet for every invention we’ve used for good, there are like ten examples of profiteers pushing a harmful agenda for the sake of their bank accounts. A gun is useful if you’re hunting for food, but what have we brought upon ourselves because of it otherwise? How much have firearms been used to ruin or end lives throughout history just so a couple people could be rich?

This is why I don’t trust anyone who supports AI in the least. Could it help us cure diseases faster? Maybe. But the internet had potential to revolutionize how we run the world and instead a few psychotic narcissistic capitalists turned it into a mall of hate for their individual benefit. All of these Silicon Valley types are the same, and there’s absolutely no reason to believe that this level of development won’t be used against the people more than for them.

Those that didn’t make it

I want to talk a little bit about failure.

This is a photo of the wall next to my desk where I’m currently working on the 2026 edition of my ongoing series, Standing Still In A Storm. I’ve been doing this project for close to 15 years now, with each year the guidelines changing a little bit. The basics remain the same: painted freehand parallel lines in black gesso that are not allowed to touch but meant to get as close as possible to one another. The paper size, border measurements, and brush width vary year-to-year, but the general rules are always the same.

So far, this year I’ve finished 18 pieces—including these six failures. For one reason or another, each of these did not meet the standards I have for the work. On some the ink bled under the tape (an issue I did not discover until the work was already complete and otherwise satisfactory). On some the slightest twitch of my hand caused the black lines to meet at some point. On others the proportions weren’t right and by the time I got to the last line it ended up wider than the brush I’m using. Whatever the reason, these are the failures—one-third of the work I’ve done so far.

I feel like artists online only ever show their successes. The ones who post process videos only do so when the final work is suitable for publishing. Content creators and influencers crop frames and set up shots that don’t actually represent what they’re doing. The rule of advertising is that everything has to be positive all of the time, and the internet has become one big advertisement for life. It’s all success stories, and I wonder how many of them are outright lies.

The thing is, everybody fails. The process of taking inspiration to creation is an arduous one. Yet in a society that demands better results faster, standards lessen, quality drops, concepts fade, and the finished product is cheapened. It’s no wonder those obsessed with capital love AI—it removes all the parts that take time from creativity, but in doing so it also removes everything that makes a creation good.

Failure is important to process. It’s a learning experience, much more so than achievement. By having this entire sect of culture that only shows finished products, it becomes akin to something between a gallery and a mall. The human values have been lost, and it’s not because people don’t fail, but because in the public eye, they’re not allowed to.