I say I don’t mind it, but I do, momentarily, when a spandrel steps in. Not a real spandrel, but I can sort of believe a body existists behind the voice of an authoritative intervention. I have no issue with AI, although I may have many issues with its manipulation and control. Still I stand human and thinkful. When I click, as I have done for a very long time, onto my blog access, I meet a load of not fluff, but more like doors with controls. I don’t like it. I remember, once, at 17, negotiating my way beyond a butler (human) who was not up for letting me through. It thinks me.

We, it seems, are living in the melee of something we can’t explain. That doesn’t phase me. I’ve been there most of my life. However, this has a differentiouness, more shapes, more colours, more promises and more threats than in the before of my days. It also doesn’t please me, and why would it. No question mark required. What works for us is the us of us. We know our way around it, the rules easy, the safety prescient. Still does. If we still know who we are in this, our ethics and beliefs and, more, if we don’t pretend it’s not happening, we can stay in the game.

I remember learning once in my only office job, that the only way to change anything was to be in the room. I still believe it.

We have all been invaded before.