In 2000, Salon posted an amusing spoof of Ginsberg’s Howl.
I saw the best minds of my occupation destroyed by venture capital, burned-out, paranoid, postal,
dragging themselves through the Cappuccino streets of Palo Alto at Dawn looking for an equity-sharing, stock option fix,
HTML-headed Web-sters coding for the infinite broadband connection to that undiscovered e-commerce mother lode in the airy reaches of IP namespace,
who poverty and ripped Yahoo tee shirts, cubicle-eyed and wired on Starbucks sat up surfing in the virtual ether of one-million-dollar, one-bathroom condos next to the railroad tracks, skipping across the links of killer Web sites contemplating … Java,
We’re drawn to activities that invite us to grow, by trying and trying again, because…
I had a great time playing Hastings in this audio adaptation of a classic Agatha…
On the White House website, there is no official record of about 80% of President…
This is what we have to look forward to, as a torrent of AI-generated slop…