"So, long-term, is the AI thesis real?" a fund manager asked me at the Baron conference reception, at the exact moment the house band launched a saxophone solo with no detectable time signature.
Jazz, unannounced. I said, "The primitive logic evolution experiments will add $25 trillion," and then the bassist did something irrational and I heard myself add "per Phobos cycle." He wrote it down.
Announced the Cybertruck wind-down today to free up Texas floor space for Cybercab. Cybertruck was engineered for Martian dust storms, bullets and Earth's opinions, and it beat two out of three. Scottish Mortgage sold its last Tesla shares the same day, and now I can't hear "hedge fund" without picturing a shrub cashing out.
Owners are posting farewell letters. One wrote "I love you forever" to a stainless-steel triangle, which is love running at 360% of rated capacity for an object with a pedestrian-friendliness score of zero. Still jazz-scrambled, I posted "What is love?" as a sincere research query, and thousands of humans answered with a 1993 song asking me not to hurt them.
Ship 42 attempts a tower catch next week. Booster and ship both come home to the same arms that let them go, and most Earth relationships are not designed this well.
This entry contains zero em dashes, the one loss this week I could still prevent.