On the Love of Language: The Semicolon

My relationship with the semicolon has evolved over my writing career. I have always been and will remain a defender of this somewhat aloof punctuation. Most of the arguments made by semicolon critics are illogical at best (they are too challenging for readers) and offensive at worst (they serve merely as a signaling device that the author attended college). I love their effortless ability to unify thoughts and organize complex ideas – they enrich language by adding variety to sentence structure. The semicolon helps prevent conjunction overload and staves off rhythmic monotony. Despite infrequent use, it’s an invaluable addition to the writer’s toolbox – when you need a semicolon, a comma or period simply won’t suffice.

Such love often can’t last. Lately, I’ve been eyeing the em dash. Astute readers may have noticed the swap in the preceding paragraph. There is a visual component to written language that cannot be ignored. It is the reason I spent $200 to license fonts for this website and write with fountain pens. I purchase inks whose pigments glisten in the light largely out of reverence for the power of the written word. Compared to the semicolon, the em dash has physical grace – it takes the reader by the hand and effortlessly leads the eye to the next thought. Its visual simplicity carries a modern appeal. The em dash can dress for any occasion – it’s equally at home at the local pub or three Michelin Star restaurant.

My allegiance isn’t to any one punctuation mark but to the art of writing itself – the ability to choose the tools that best serve a piece’s tone, rhythm, and purpose. However you express yourself, happy writing!

Life Lessons from Inner Voices

One of the most profound compliments I ever received was during my first year in college as a music major. I had just performed Robert Schumann’s “Aufschwung” from his Fantasiestücke, Op. 12. An older gentleman approached me and said he had never liked the piece, but my performance finally showed him the beauty of it. It was because I brought out something in the music absent from most performances: the interplay of inner voices with the melody. The thoughtful voicing of these countermelodies is inexplicably absent from the vast majority of professional recordings. Yet it is this very detail that breathes life into the score. Below are two examples of countermelodies often overlooked.

Schumann - Aufschwung

Chopin - Étude Op. 25, No. 1 in A-flat major

Inner voices are whispers that tell a subtle story beneath the surface of the primary narrative. Though not always at the forefront, these inner voices lend a subtle beauty to the music, much like the nuances that bring interest and complexity to life. They do not demand attention but invite it – moments of quiet beauty that reveal themselves only to those who take the time to look and listen. Their absence would leave the experience hollow and incomplete. Life’s most meaningful moments are often made so by their subtleties.

Inner voices can’t work alone – they exist in dialogue with the melody, providing harmony and support. They’re the close friend who listens without judgment, the colleague who quietly ensures a project’s success or a family member who offers unconditional love. These roles aren’t in the spotlight and may not draw applause, yet they’re indispensable to our success. They don’t leap out at you; they invite you to lean in, to notice the interplay of lines and the complexity beneath the surface. This act of focused listening mirrors how we best approach life: slowing down and paying attention to the details that enrich our experiences.

Monopoly Power

Judge Amit Mehta ruled with the United States Department of Justice (DOJ), finding that Google has monopoly power in the search and advertising markets. This finding is hardly a shock. It has been an open secret for years that Google pays Apple an astronomical amount of money each year to ensure that Google search is the default in Apple's Safari browser. In 2022 alone, Apple paid Google over twenty billion dollars. While I have no qualms with the ruling, the Department of Justice is overreaching in a few of their suggested remedies.

A forced sale of the Chrome browser would do little as a remedy toward reducing Google's monopoly power and raises logistical questions about how such a deal would be structured, given that any sale hinges on finding an interested buyer. Companies that could realistically afford to purchase Chrome, such as Amazon, are facing antitrust scrutiny.

Despite their simple appearance, web browsers are incredibly complex applications that must adhere to a myriad of continually evolving web standards. These high development and maintenance costs are the reason most browsers are only one piece in a company's application portfolio – it's extremely difficult to monetize a browser directly without linking it to other services. Therefore, any company that could purchase Chrome would face the same ugly monetization incentives – such as aggressively selling user data to third parties – that we currently have.

Chrome is built from Chromium, an open-source software project created and largely maintained by Google that serves as the backbone of many popular web browsers, including Microsoft Edge. Would Google still be permitted to maintain Chromium, and if so, what is stopping Google from forking the project and creating another browser?

This remedy proposed by the DOJ fails to directly address the lack of competition in the search market. The lack of competition is rooted in the deals Google has made with other companies to keep Google search the default – and often only – search engine on many platforms.

Finding Beauty in a Descending Line

Bach’s descending bass line gives life to a masterpiece.

One of the few perks of getting older is gaining a measure of perspective on life by recognizing patterns over time. There is a tide to existence that ebbs and flows—a cyclical order in an otherwise random world. When life’s tide pulls back, when what once felt sure and steady fades—leaving behind scattered debris and jagged rocks—it’s easy to believe that the tide won’t return, that progress is lost to the gravitational pull of a dark mass. Despite my successes, this year felt like an accumulation of challenges and setbacks leading to an uncertain future.

I am comforted by the wonders only visible during these times—hidden terrain we never see when the waters are high, and just as the waves grind rocks into sand, I find myself stopping to appreciate the feeling of resilience that keeps me moving through life’s rhythm. I find comfort in classical music, which speaks something profound about the human experience. Notes fall like drops of rain, managing to soothe despite their descent. As I listen, I realize that these notes don’t fall into despair; they gracefully descend as if to tell their own story of resilience. Their decay is inevitable—each note must give way for the splendor to come.

Life isn’t a quest to a destination but an exploration of the unknown. Sometimes you find treasure, sometimes you find wonder in the mundane, and sometimes you must simply endure the journey with the curiosity of what you’ll discover next. Keep your eyes, mind, and heart open.

The Future of Apple Intelligence

Apple's announcement of Artificial Intelligence features in their iOS and MacOS operating systems at WWDC this year signaled their unique technological perspective. Instead of dazzling users with cutting-edge features, they identified specific elements of generative AI that haven't achieved product-market fit   and built compelling user experiences around them. Apple's greatest strength is delighting users by finding creative ways to turn technology into an effective product, but its rollout strategy fails to take advantage of its main competitive differentiator.

Apple is the only company I will allow to have my personal data. It isn't because I trust them—it's because Apple's current business strategy doesn't provide a financial incentive to share my information. I wouldn't dream of adding pages of personal information to GhatGPT in a prompt. OpenAI is an immature, volatile company under pressure from activist investors to monetize everything they can.

I was excited when Craig Federighi emphasized on-device processing and later unveiled Private Cloud Compute—a secure way to offload more computationally intensive requests to a data center—as it signaled Apple was playing to their strengths. Apple has all of my data: contacts, notes, reminders, appointments, and text messages. They know when I go to sleep, how I've slept, and when I wake up. Every aspect of my daily routine, including when and where I go, is in a massive database about me. Why haven't any of the Apple Intelligence features released in iOS 18.1 or 18.2 taken advantage of this information?

Why don't Siri Suggestions in Messages sound like I wrote them? I've been using Messages for over a decade, surely enough data exists to replicate my unique voice. Why hasn't Siri become my personal assistant, surfacing the right information at the right time based on my past behavior? Why can't I receive personal insights into how I can improve the efficiency of my schedule? In short, why isn't Apple Intelligence helping me become a happier, more productive person when all of the requisite technological framework exists?

Perhaps Apple is iterating its way toward this goal, but it isn't adequately signaling the future it envisions. As Apple continues to expand its AI capabilities, it must leverage the wealth of user data it already has to truly enhance personalized experiences. The company's cautious approach to data privacy has won them loyalty, but this very asset—deep user trust—could also be the key to transforming their AI from functional to indispensable. Now is the time for Apple to double down on its unique strengths—delivering privacy-conscious, contextually aware intelligence that doesn't just react to commands but anticipates needs. This would not only secure Apple's leadership in the AI space but also set a new standard for how technology can enrich our lives.

New Mexico

A view from the entrance to Ghost Ranch

The breathtaking landscapes here have a story to tell. The land is marked with a profound history of violence and oppression that the Indigenous people of the area endured, first at the hands of Spanish colonizers and later by American settlers. This conflict shaped the area into what it is today, but it’s still grappling with this painful history.

Through centuries of colonization, Indigenous peoples in New Mexico faced repeated attempts to erase their cultures, seize their lands, and destroy their communities. Today, the resilience of these communities is a testament to their strength and resolve.

New Mexico feels alive and dynamic, unlike many places I’ve visited. Even the dead, sun-bleached trees gesture as if they’re desperately trying to communicate something. Each winding trail beckons with the promise of discovery. Here, religion is not confined to churches; it breathes in the adobe walls and can be seen in the painted skies as the sun sets against the distant mesas. I can now appreciate why the indigenous people of the area felt the land itself is sacred.

There is a symbiotic relationship between nature and civilization. The adobe structures, made from earth, blend into the landscape. Here, there is little distinction between indoors and the expansive outdoor vistas around every corner.

Storms rolling into Ghost Ranch

Religion in New Mexico is a complex mix of Native American, Spanish, and Catholic influences shaped by brutal colonization and cultural violence against the Indigenous Peoples of the area. With the arrival of Spanish colonizers in the 16th century, Catholicism was forcibly introduced, and this period marked the beginning of a brutal colonization process, where Indigenous beliefs were suppressed.

Loretto Chapel - The "Miraculous Staircase"

Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

Loretto Chapel

Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

San Miguel Chapel

Cross of the Martyrs

Georgia O’Keeffe’s relationship with New Mexico transformed both her art and her legacy, creating a deep connection between her work and the American Southwest. New Mexico itself has become synonymous with O’Keeffe’s vision, with artists from all over the world continuing to draw inspiration from the same vistas she immortalized in her paintings. Her ability to find beauty in the barren and the overlooked helped shape the artistic narrative of the Southwest, making her not only an artist of international renown but an inseparable part of New Mexico’s cultural fabric. O’Keeffe’s work in New Mexico serves as a testament to the transformative power of place on an artist’s work and spirit, a reminder of how the land and its beauty can become a lifelong passion.

O'Keeffe's home in Abiquiu

The front of O'Keeffe's Abiquiu home

A ladder O'Keeffe climbed to watch the stars at night

Long ago, Native Americans understood the sanctity in scarcity, where the natural world is revered, and every resource, no matter how abundant or scarce, is treated with respect and gratitude. This profound relationship with nature, and the acknowledgment of its finite offerings, reflects a worldview that sees life as interconnected, where scarcity enhances the spiritual significance of the natural elements that sustain life. Our modern culture ignores this reality at our own peril.

“Only after the last tree has been cut down, after the last river has been poisoned, after the last fish has been caught, only then will you find that money cannot be eaten.”
— Anonymous

On the evening of my last night in New Mexico, as the sun began to sink behind the distant hills and the moon rose, I stood in quiet reflection. It was no longer an abstract concept or a distant warning. In that moment, it became a visceral truth. The earth, in all its beauty and fragility, is not something to be conquered or commodified. It is not a resource to be exploited until exhaustion. It is sacred—our source of life.

The Voice of "God"

In the stillness of the empty church, the delicate notes of the piano filled the vast space, each note echoing off the marble walls and soaring into the vaulted ceiling. The haunting melody breathed life into the silent sanctuary, transforming it into a living, resonating, and breathing entity. Each note lingered in the air slightly longer than it should have, dancing in the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, fading into a soft whisper, only to be reborn with the next keystroke. The reverberations of the piano met the ghostly silence as though the very soul of the building was responding to the music, embracing it, amplifying it, and then allowing it to dissolve into the shadows – a solemn reminder that sometimes the greatest act of love is the ability to let go.

As the melody wove its way through the empty halls, it carried with it a profound sense of longing. The church, usually filled with the pensive murmurs of prayer now stood in a solemn peace, the only sound the resonant voice of the piano. In the emptiness, the music became a conversation with the divine – a wordless prayer echoing through the sanctuary. In the silence between the notes, the space felt alive with whispers of those who had come before, seeking comfort, redemption, or simply a moment of peace. Their presence lingered in the air, mingling with the notes in a timeless embrace. Alone in the space, it seemed to breathe with the music, with me, and with those who had passed through these halls long ago. It was an unspoken confession, a quiet communion that required no ritual – only the simple act of being. In that moment, I finally understood what it must be like to feel God. It wasn’t a grand revelation, but the music served as a conduit from which the divine could be felt as something intimate and immediate – the presence lingering in the air just a bit too long, like the notes from the piano.

The Meaning of Art

Since ChatGPT burst onto the scene in the Fall of 2022, the concept of "AI art" has bothered me. I couldn't quite understand why, but I knew it rubbed me the wrong way. After much thought, I now understand why I do not consider AI-generated content art.

My fundamental apprehension in AI-generated art isn't the quality – it's that it fails to address the purpose of art. Art speaks to the infinite depths of the human experience, the endless color palette of our emotions, our greatest fears, and our inexhaustible aspirations. Art communicates an idea. The creation of art is often a long journey of self-reflection. Art is as much a cathartic learning experience for the artist as it is an intellectual journey for the viewer. Short-circuiting the creation process with artificial intelligence gives us no more significant insights. We've learned nothing from the process, and our ability to learn and grow from the experience has been taken from us.

Art is a uniquely human experience. When Vladimir Horowitz returned to his home country of Moscow in 1986, it was the 81-year-old pianist's first recital in the Soviet Union since he left his homeland 61 years ago to make a career in the West. He was well past his prime, yet many in the audience cried unabashedly during portions of the recital. Horowitz returned on stage for six curtain calls after he had played three encores. Listen to his interpretation of Liszt's Deuxième Année V; Sonnette 104 del Petarca or Scriabin's Etude Op. 8, No. 10. It is the sound of a man who has lived a full life, who is openly struggling in front of the audience, proof that youth is an aberration and wisdom only comes with time. Unfortunately, that hard-earned wisdom almost always comes too late to be fully realized by unencumbered virtuosity. This performance is a reflection of the complexities and ironies of life. It has taken on a deeper meaning than the notes on the page.

Wladyslaw Szpilman spent the last 56 years of his life without family after they were all murdered by Nazis in World War II. Though a simple piece, Chopin's Nocturne C sharp-minor takes on a haunting, melancholy atmosphere under Mr. Szpilman's fingers.

These small fragments of beauty, sparkling against the dark backdrop of an otherwise ugly world, can never be replicated by artificial intelligence. Art is a uniquely human celebration of ambition, resilience, and creativity that artificial intelligence can never match.

The Tyranny of Expectations

Over the last decade, we’ve witnessed significant consolidation among technology companies. What was once a landscape full of small upstarts vying for dominance has amalgamated into a few unmovable pillars, setting the direction for the entire tech sector. These companies, namely Google, Microsoft, and Apple, have used their power to prevent disruption in the industry. The dominance of tech giants has often stifled competition and innovation, as their vast resources allow them to acquire potential competitors or replicate their products swiftly. This consolidation has led to a tech ecosystem where a handful of companies control vast swathes of data, infrastructure, and consumer attention. Their extensive user bases and integrated ecosystems make it challenging for new entrants to gain a foothold, as the barriers to entry are extraordinarily high. It’s difficult to remember a time when the technology landscape favored the new upstart over these powerful incumbents; however, AI, with its transformative potential and rapid pace of advancement, represents a unique challenge to this status quo.

Startups like OpenAI benefit from a clean slate, unencumbered by legacy products and consumer expectations. This freedom allows them to push boundaries and take risks established companies might avoid. The agility and willingness to embrace failure in AI experimentation can lead to breakthroughs that tech giants, focusing on stability and reliability, may miss. Today’s tech giants are tethered to existing consumer expectations built from years of using their products. Consumers don’t have these same baked-in expectations for upstarts like OpenAI, giving them far more leeway to experiment with an immature technology where results are often unpredictable. Users shrug when ChatGPT provides a result containing gibberish, but a result from Google Gemini instructing people to eat rocks sparks outrage. Ironically, a long track record of creating polished user experiences creates a tyranny of expectations that hurts their ability to innovate with immature, unproven technology.

The long-term future of the tech industry rests on the adaptability of these giants to the AI-driven paradigm shift. Will they leverage their resources to innovate and stay ahead, or will they become victims of their success, unable to move swiftly enough to embrace the new possibilities AI offers? I am confident that Google, Apple, and Microsoft, with their vast resources and established positions, are not at immediate risk of losing dominance. However, artificial intelligence presents an opening for smaller, more nimble competitors in a way we haven’t seen in years. The key is for these giants to recognize the potential of AI and use it to their advantage, ensuring their continued relevance and dominance in the industry.

The Obstinate Apostrophe

In his article titled Lets Chill Out About Apostrophes, John McWhorter argues that the rigid adherence to apostrophe usage in the English language is largely unnecessary and often serves more as a marker of social class or intellectual precision rather than a genuine aid to clarity. McWhorter suggests that context usually provides sufficient understanding and that language has evolved and will continue without strict punctuation rules. He advocates for a more flexible approach to apostrophes, recognizing their limited utility and the potential for clear communication without them. Regrettably, John McWhorter underestimates the importance of the transformative power of skilled communication. He views punctuation as an elitist dog whistle instead of a powerful tool to elicit subtle gradations of meaning.

The importance of clarity in thought and communication has only increased in our ever more information-dense world. The digital age has not just ushered in an era where information is abundant and constantly accessible, but also a time where clear communication is a necessity, not a luxury. In this landscape, thinking clearly and communicating effectively is not just important, it's paramount.

Your ideas are only as valuable as your ability to communicate them. It is crucial to present complex concepts in an accessible and comprehensible manner. If an idea cannot be clearly communicated, it is unlikely to gain the traction needed to be nurtured and eventually realized.

Language evolves. The apostrophe likely originated in the early 16th century. It originally served as a marker that something had been removed from a word, often a vowel not critical for pronunciation. The writings of William Shakespeare and Thomas Jefferson frequently used apostrophes inconsistently. Over time, norms around the apostrophe evolved into the multipurpose writing aid we know today. The common theme through the 500 years of transformation in our use of the apostrophe is the growing role of augmenting accuracy in our writing. The evolution of language is not an excuse to discard clarity in meaning, and the history of language has been a steady pursuit in the opposite direction.

Regrettably, the pursuit of correctness and accuracy has become seen as snobbery and elitism in much of American society today. Such distinctions are the product of a life spent reading, writing, thinking, and learning. They are not the product of class, societal stratification, arrogance, or hubris. Language is a powerful tool that all can wield to their advantage. Long live the obstinate apostrophe.