September 28. 2024: Clearly that didn’t happen. WordPress is completely different than it was the last time I logged in, to boot. For one, there’s an ominous little widget over in the right-hand column of the edit window that says “AI Assistant.” That’s not a welcome addition in my book, and it’s possible I’ll even get salty enough about it to write about it at length. But I’ve made enough empty threats to write this or that over the years that I won’t do so now. (AI seemed fun at first, I started playing around with it, and then I came to understand the consequences of my actions, fortunately without doing anything stupid or public-facing involving its use).

I’m back this time for the reason I’d cited in April 2022, my love-hate relationship with social media. In the interim, the agency’s intra-office Slack has gotten the lion’s share of the nonsense I would otherwise have posted on Twitter. I’m not sure the world at large has missed much, but at this point I think my co-workers think of me as that weird guy in the office who’s obsessed with his pets. That’s the sort of thing the internet should believe, not the person who signs my paychecks.

So I come once again to you, oh Internet, to scratch a different ruminative itch than my feelings journal can provide. (I’m not joking about that; sometimes I process stuff by swearing quite a lot and then I can move on.) Maybe it’ll be here, maybe it’ll be more Bluesky activity (sorry, Mastodon, you’re too comfortable, at least in 2024), but I seem to always have something to say, and it feels like a waste to relegate that to smart remarks and references to our family pets.

April 25, 2022: We’ll see! My personal site has been preserved in amber since about 2017, but with certain people buying out certain social media sites, I’m contemplating using this a little more.

If I do, I’ll get rid of the ads and/or switch to a publishing platform that’s a little more 2020s and a little less late 2000s. . .