When Gary Kasparov lost to a chess playing computer in 1997 I recall the paranoia people felt as they assumed this marked the moment where machines became smarter than humans. Of course it wasn’t, but it was a reminder that humans can be as dumb as machines.

As we progress through what we hope is the latter stages of this pandemic, it’s worth revisiting something that was self-evident this time last year, but since then we may have subconsciously adjusted. We’re talking about our perception of time.

There’s usually a point, early on, in any administration, when peak hope is reached. This is the moment when supporters of said regime reach the highest point of optimism, euphoria, and hope. It’s usually not appreciated in the moment, but tragically recognized afterwards, when hopes are dashed, and expectations plummet.

The forests on our property are about to be devastated by gypsy moths, an invasive species that is poised to devastate a lot of forests across Ontario and North America. While a home owner with one or two trees might stand a chance, there’s little for us to do, short of documenting it. It was with this in mind that I bought a mini drone last year, one capable enough of flying over the tree tops and recording video, but light enough that it did not require a drone pilot’s license or registration.

This isn’t a newsletter issue but more of an acknowledgement. In the form of a day of mourning.
An acknowledgement of a deep trauma, and horrific crimes, carried out by the Canadian state and the Catholic Church.

Following up on an issue from a couple of weeks ago, that argued cyber crime is a post-national activity, let’s briefly delve into the larger argument, or frame, that Russia is emerging as a rogue network state.