
An Unweeded Garden
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fye on’t! O Fye! ’tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! Hamlet [Act I, Scene 2] About an hour ago (as I begin writing), I finished watching a presentation posted yesterday by two engineers from OpenAI: Black Hat USA 2026: The ‘Breaking’ News: The OpenAI–Hugging Face Incident I’m still reeling from the implications. After spamming friends and family with text links to the video, I sat down away from a computer and wrote some notes in longhand, trying to gather my thoughts. ...








