TomHill

When the whole world’s a casino, everybody’s the house money.
A MacArthur Genius just proved we’ve been flushing fertilizer and metals down the drain while corporations sell it back to us—now the only question is who patents the neighborhood refinery first.
When your kid signed up for brain scans and wound up in somebody’s racist PowerPoint.
Why the same AI shock barely dents well‑paid, well‑networked workers—but leaves millions of clerical and admin workers, mostly women in smaller cities, standing in the floodwater.
So the whole science game turned into a group chat where nobody doing the homework, they just letting ChatGPT copy off itself and calling it “peer review.”
Media got a style guide for love stories, and it’s exactly what you think.
When baseline care requires a law degree and WebMD scholarship, that’s not medicine—that’s a test.
It’s not deep, it’s just you crowned one “neutral” voice the grown‑up in the room and now you’re surprised it keeps backing its own friends.
AI art ain’t the villain, it’s just the new unpaid intern for the same old bosses.
Who’s really eating when you confess your whole life to a chatbot?