@deanwball The more AI encroaches onto spiritual terrain, even rule of law enjoyers will sweat over the double edged truism that “you can’t legislate morality”. The rule of law serves its overt valuable purposes. Covertly it serves aspirations to offload the burdens of spiritual discernment
John Ekdahl was my best friend. He died today of cancer, at 47. I know that some of you knew and loved John, so I thought I’d let you all know. I have set up a GoFundMe for his family, which is linked in this tweet.
John and I “met” on Twitter about 13 years ago, and then, a couple of years later, met in person at the 2014 NRA Convention in Indianapolis. We quickly realized that we had a lot of the same interests—technology, amusement parks, baseball (we were both Yankees fans)—and soon started texting about everything and nothing. In 2015, when I published my book, the first stop on my promotional tour was in Jacksonville, where John lived. I asked him which hotel I should stay at, and he said that, instead, I should stay with him and his family. So I did. From that moment on, he and his wife (and their two kids—one of whom had just been born) became my closest friends. When, in 2017, my wife and I decided to move to Florida, John barraged me with propaganda about Jacksonville, and invited us to stay for a few days so that he and his wife could show us around. We were sold.
John was like that. For the first few years after I moved to the United States, I wasn’t into the NFL. In 2016, this started to change, so John began a remote campaign to turn me into a Jaguars fan. “Jags are on,” he’d text apropos of nothing on a Sunday, even though he knew that, from Connecticut, the chance of my getting the game was close to zero. As part of this effort, I got weekly AFC South updates, a series of memes about Blake Bortles, and an introduction to the perfidious cabaret act that is the Tennessee Titans. John even invited me down to see a game against the Colts—which the Jaguars won 30-10. In my first real season as a fan, the Jaguars made the AFC Championship game, and were minutes away from making their first Super Bowl. After I moved down to Florida, John and I bought season tickets together, which we kept until the end. I had hoped devoutly that the Jaguars would make the Super Bowl this season—which was destined to be John’s last.
During the pandemic, John and I started a business together that, relative to our expectations, did pretty well for a while. As is typical, most of our ideas didn’t pan out, but that didn’t matter. We had fun coming up with them at the bar, adding “just one more drink” to the tab to make sure that we hadn’t missed an angle or forgotten to write something crucial down on the back of an increasingly ragged napkin. I am 41-years-old and, with the exception of my wife, I’ve never met anyone who was easier to talk to than John. If we went for lunch, we’d go for hours, chatting about sports and rollercoasters and our kids and the new iPhone and the unforgivable changes that Disney made to Epcot in 1999. I shall miss that immensely.
There was one thing we didn’t talk about: At no point since his diagnosis, did John and I ever acknowledge with each other how serious his condition was, or that, all things being equal, it was likely to take him before his time. From the start, it seemed that John silently picked me to be the person with whom he could pretend that everything was normal, and I fulfilled this role until the last. Even when things were clearly terrible, we’d make plans—to take a trip to New Hampshire with our families and friends; to ride the new rollercoaster at Epic Universe; to go to opening day at the new Jaguars Stadium in 2028; and more. The last time I saw him, I said the same thing as I said every time I'd chatted with him over the last 11 years: "Talk to you in a bit."
https://t.co/wUhSUPQRk7
If you are visiting family for the holidays, order ahead some 2700k bulbs and surreptitiously swap them into every fixture.
No one has to know, just quietly enjoy everyone's dramatically improved mood.
https://t.co/xiyuxVE3IT
Our friend and colleague Drew Struzan distilled movie magic into a single iconic image, often the one audiences saw first. The celebrated creator of hundreds of one-sheet movie posters, blending classic portraiture with cinematic montage, passed away October 13 at age 78. Our hearts go out to the Struzan family.
Learn more about Drew's legacy: https://t.co/B6LwiQHkuM
Drew Struzan was such an amazingly talented and warm hearted guy. Greg Nicotero told me Drew was selling his originals back in 2011, so I went to Drew’s studio with the intention of buying the Spykids art he made back in 2000. Drew was so generous, he refused to have me pay for it, and instead he handed me the originals. (Including a drawing he had made of me in his trademark style!)
Such a gift!
His studio was amazing, and getting to see his process and art space made me decide to buy one of his masterworks. I had him bring out two of my favorites, The THING and FIRST BLOOD.
We took pictures posing like the characters as I mulled them both over, they were both truly stunning. Art books cannot even come close to capturing the detail and magic of his original art.
Since I had worked with Stallone, I went with First Blood, which I feel is one of his very best paintings and portraits.
I will cherish the memories of that magical day spent with him and his wonderful wife, so proudly displaying his incredible art and sharing the stories that went with them.
Here’s to the great Drew Struzan.
-Robert Rodriguez
Drew Struzan has sadly passed away at the age of 78.
He was the legendary artist that worked on posters for the original 6 ‘Star Wars’ films, ‘Back to the Future’, ‘Indiana Jones’, ‘The Thing’ & much more.
Drew Struzan has sadly passed away at the age of 78.
He was the legendary artist that worked on posters for the original 6 ‘Star Wars’ films, ‘Back to the Future’, ‘Indiana Jones’, ‘The Thing’ & much more.
@elonmusk@MattWalshBlog@grok To avoid melting down society and all of us with it under digital conditions, it’s helpful to believe our shared and individual human being is a sacred creation gifted to us by an immeasurably loving God who calls us to return that love with haste. Do this and catastrophe recedes
But here's the awesome thing:
A robot CAN'T churn out fine art in marble because the material is so exacting and the required finish so elusive for a machine with limited tools and awareness.
But a robot CAN churn out architectural building blocks and ornament in limestone with very little human intervention very very cheaply. Limestone is a forgiving material that doesn't take a polish or hold detail at the level or marble. The forms of architectural sculpture and ornament are far simpler than those in fine art (think craft vs. art) and they are viewed from far away.
Once we've automated the robots and scaled stone cutting operations, building with limestone will actually be so cheap that it beats concrete on total install cost and we can build beautifully everywhere.
To conclude, these are not the same:
@jamespoulos Saw the same article and had similar thoughts when I tagged your colleague! — but these musings owe much to having read your book https://t.co/iAK7D1yhKo
enjoying a singular location with amazing sights and sounds, realizing the church bells at seemingly odd times are quite literal calls to “retvrn” to spiritual matters of the heart … Pic as promised @docMJP@frontier_mag_