Or: How I Learned to Stop Comparing Almonds to AI and Start Asking Who Decides One Month Ago: I was arguing about whether AI images were "real art." That felt urgent. It felt like the center of the conversation. Today: I am writing about aquifers. I am writing about zoning variances. I am writing about data center cooling loops and the fact that a single large data center can evaporate more water in a day than a family of four uses in a decade. I am writing about the Lenape,

Or: How I Went From Debating AI Art to Worrying About the Aquifer in Less Than Two Weeks So, I wrote a post recently. A nice, measured, compassionate little essay comparing AI anxiety to the early Photoshop era. I talked about John Henry, dignity, labor, and my own neurodivergent joy in using these tools. It was a good post. I stand by it. It’s also, in retrospect, the intellectual equivalent of a sepia-toned photograph of a calmer time. Directionally correct, adorably unawar

The current AI conversation reminds me a lot of the early Photoshop era. People forget there was a time when digital art tools were considered “fake,” destructive, unethical, or the death of creativity itself. Today, Photoshop is simply part of the professional creative toolkit. That does not mean every criticism of AI is wrong. Some concerns are absolutely legitimate; labor displacement, exploitative corporate behavior, consent and training-data questions, surveillance syste