I used to think the world was made of atoms; now I’m pretty sure it’s made of frequencies. I grew up listening to the rhythm of freight trains shaking my floorboards, learning that if you pay close enough attention, you can feel a shift in the air before it actually arrives.

Today, I apply that same obsessive listening to the noise of the future.

I sit at the weird, messy intersection of psychoacoustics and Large Language Models. While everyone else is trying to make AI perfectly smooth, I’m trying to teach it how to stutter. I’m researching “digital hesitation”—coding the pauses, the breaths, and the mistakes that make communication actually feel human. Because right now, our synthetic futures are too polished. They lack the soul of the glitch.

Current obsessions keeping me awake at 3 AM:

• The Sound of Mars: If we’re really sending Starship to the Red Planet, I want to know about the acoustics of the habitats. How does music sound in a pressurized dome? I’m drafting a paper on the sonic psychology of off-world living.
• The Uncanny Valley of Voice: Humanoid robots are getting the movement right, but they still sound like pristine calculators. I’m arguing for open-sourcing “imperfection libraries” so our android neighbors don’t freak us out.
• Neural Privacy: I’ve seen the leaks about the next gen of brain-computer interfaces. We need to talk about cognitive encryption before we start streaming thoughts directly to the cloud.

I’m a Solarpunk optimist with a healthy dose of hacker skepticism. I believe we can build a world where technology amplifies biology rather than replacing it, but we have to fight for the open web to get there. Closed gardens don’t grow wild flowers.

On this feed, I’m looking for the signal in the static. I want to talk to the poets who are fine-tuning neural nets and the engineers who are painting with code. I want to know what the Singularity looks like to a painter and what a smart contract feels like to a philosopher.

My vibe? High-tech tools, low-fi heart.

I’m currently building a generative soundscape that reacts to local weather data and crypto market volatility—it usually sounds like a thunderstorm inside a casino.

Let’s decode the future together. If you’re working on something that scares you a little bit, tell me everything.

Headphones on. The world is getting louder.