I feel like you should at least be in business class?

I’m trying not to stare, since I know there are cameras he can see through. There’s a beautiful sunset. I shan’t describe the golden ichor painted across the sky or the pillowy skyscape beneath us. You know what a sunset is and I wouldn’t do it justice. For it was beautiful. I felt lucky to gaze upon it. Flying always fills me with wonder. Our people make miracles for each other.

Did he see that sunset? He faced the window for quite some time. The mirage refracted through sensors and processors and diodes. Was that a sunset? It feels less Real than mine. Transmuted. Processed. Recreated, as Theseus’ ship.

Yet my view was processed too. Transformed by a technology light enough that I forget it rests on my face. My sunset was processed, yes. But only by refraction. It wasn’t remade. The real sunset reached my eyes. It didn’t reach his. His was intercepted. He got a mirage. His was less Real. Right?

The attendant comes by. I ask for apple juice (as always). I get it without ice (a treat). He asks for club soda. The visor stays on. Does he see her? Does she feel seen? His face is obscured. Yet eyes still meet hers. Eyes-like-his meet hers. Like-eyes-like-his meet hers. It doesn’t feel human. It feels disrespectful.

He has a partner. They wave at each other through the visor (she doesn’t have one). He looks at her as she sleeps. Does it feel as Real for him as it does when I watch my partner sleep. Does the visor plug the wellspring of love? I doubt it. He adjusts her hair as she begins to wake. He stares into her eyes. What does she stare back at. Is it Real? Does it matter? It doesn’t stop love. He leans in. She leans forward. A quick peck — they adjust around the visor. Does it get in the way, or is it just something they needed to adapt to?

[Author’s note: If I’m wearing an Apple Vision Pro, I don’t deserve to be kissed. Information that will surely be relevant for many readers of this newsletter.]

He goes to the bathroom. The visor comes off. His cheeks are red. Not a blush, but a similitude. A weight is lifted off him. Is he happier, seeing — really seeing — the rest of us? Even if it is while queueing to piss.

I think I’d be blushing too once that came off. I never feel good about my time spent away from The Real.

I like humans. It’s why I love my bike to work. I don’t talk, but I see trench coat guy and one-cuff-woman and cargo parent. We are a people. And I am in The Real. The journey is from me. I make the journey. It wouldn’t be without me. I make the journey Real. My technology doesn’t get in the way of that. Right?

I wish I had more than twenty pages left in my book. I want to stay in the world of The Real. But I am a hypocrite.

Other News

I’m supposed to tell y’all about trench foot

But to be honest, I’m scared to actually do research because what if the feet are gross. (Famously, I don’t watch R-rated movies because I’m afraid they’ll have blood.) So… here’s a wikipedia page

(I removed the image from the embedded link, you’re welcome babes)

LITERAL PROOF I HAVE MORE. THAN ONE OUTFIT

Just… not many more. I think all the Vilest Rags for the year have come out. And I was very brave and wore something different in each one. SO THERE IS VIDEO PROOF I WEAR MORE THAN ONE THING, GUYS. Have you now seen basically my whole closet? Let’s not talk about that. The point is, anyone who says “you’re wearing literally the same thing every time we see you” or “you wore that outfit last time. except maybe the pants. wait turn around I want to look at the embroidery you did on your ass” is verifiably WRONG. And a bad person.

Anyways go listen to the Vilest Rag. The Caleb episode may be longer than the Spencer episode, but the Spencer episode has more one sided bullying.

(I was having dinner with my Canadian relatives the other week and my uncle went “how’s the podcast going?” “oh yeah I guess it’s goin—” “I watched a couple.” me, gagged)

I’m going bowling tonight

manifesting 100+

That’s All!

I wasn’t sure what that was gonna be until I started writing. I took some quick notes on the plane but I didn’t want him to seeeeeeeee. I’m happy with how she turned out given I gave her less than an hour. (I owe you folks another Point of Inquiry. It’s been too long.)

This is the last newsletter of 2025. It’s been a crazy time. I hope you all know I’m grateful for all of y’all. This has been a really great year. I fell short of a fair few of my goals (I wanted to be better about maintaining relationships but… oops sometimes you ignore people for months). But I’ve also met challenges I hadn’t even dreamed of. I’m proud of myself this year. I hope the rest of you feel similarly about yourselves.

Enjoy your families and your sloths and your festivities and whatever brief respites you’re afforded. 2026 is gonna be great :DDD. I’m excited

See y’all NEXT YEAR (Jan. 4) at 10:03 pm (or Jan. 5, 12:03 am for me). Until then, buzz on, my busy bees!

“Fuck you Kellogg” novelty vibrator since 2025