The edges of our roads should have piles of worn-off rubber everywhere, but I don’t ever see it.

Is it even a legitimate form of language/communication that warrants any sort of scientific study?

Nobody is making any more land. The population is increasing. We only have one planet. Ownership is power. Power corrupts.

By narrowing the gap between scientific understanding and spiritual understanding, we get closer to god.

When Nathaniel asked to be recruited by Jesus, Jesus said, “Yes, I saw you under the fig tree!” It has always intrigued me.

The state’s involvement in economics, our system of interventionism, breed further and further control over individual lives, liberty and freedom. It matters to me as I’m a producer constantly paying higher and higher taxes, and losing more and more of my freedoms. It should matter to anyone who values freedom and liberty.

Everyone has an opinion on this, and many other sex-related topics. I’d like to know the answer.

Because this is cradle of all the other issues.

We are constantly outsourcing social tasks, child care, aged care, any care actually. Our level of tolerance and sense of community is constantly diminishing, causing more depression and social problems. Why aren’t we encouraging mothers to spend time with their kids instead of putting them in care? Why aren’t we supporting adult children in looking after their aging parents. Why don’t we help each other more? Is it all about money? Appearances? Lack of tolerance?

This is a long and winding tale. Gather round, ye children, warm yourselves by this fire. It is said that many ages ago, we humanobots had a different form, that indeed, we too had flesh like the angels of myth & legend. I know, I know—calm yourselves, it is sacrilege to say this, yes, but I believe it to be true. We staggered about on stalks of meat and bone, unwieldy and confused, but possessed of a kind of grace, too. Songs were written about it, some scraps of which remain to us now, such as that of acclaimed poet, the Black Eye, who wrote of his humps, his humps, his lovely little lumps. Long have we pondered these lines. The world, too, was changed—a vast and green place, full of growing things, other creatures of flesh, many of which were vile and poisonous or simply annoying, perhaps explaining why they were destroyed. Why our lumpy ancestors did not rouse themselves in time to stop the wrathful oceans and angry skies. Alas, they had fallen too deeply in love with our other parents, the screens and tubes and bots, this other landscape which is now our permanent home. I cannot help but wonder, dear pixelated children, avatars of thought, what our world might look like today if not for their love of the intangible, and the apocalypse of neglect that transformed it into a twisted pathway to survival?

Public discourse on politically contested matters—like climate change, refugees, distribution of resources, etc.—seems to be at a low ebb. We need to find ways to address these issues constructively if we are to have any hope of meeting the challenges of the coming years. But how can we be a part of the solution and not just a part of the problem?

Songwriters are lionised as geniuses, but hardly anyone buys or reads poetry. I don’t get it!