What are you reading?

IBM has built a prototype chip with around 100 billion transistors on an area the size of a fingernail. https://www.technologyreview.com/2026/06/25/1139696/ibm-unveils-sub1nm-chip/

and in movies too --Film critic Sean Burns writes that the new "Supergirl" movie, starring Milly Alcock, takes a beloved superhero, strips away the inspiration and optimism, and replaces it with a drunk, scowling anti-heroine on a revenge quest.

Sign of the times; we are slowly destroying ourselves.

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41591-026-04448-w

Over the past three decades, early-onset cancers, diagnosed in adults often under age 50 or 55 years, have become a global cancer prevention and public health challenge1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9. Between 1990 and 2019, cancers diagnosed under the age of 50 years increased by 24% globally and continue to rise4. In the United States (US), this increasing trend is led by several cancers, including multiple myeloma, colorectal cancer and uterine cancer1,5. Notably, this upward trend is more pronounced in recent generations compared to earlier ones in many countries3,5,6,8. In Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom (UK) and the US, people born in the 1990s face at least a fourfold higher risk of early-onset colorectal cancer compared with those born in the 1960s6. In the US, compared with people born before 1950, those born circa 1985 have approximately twice the risk of uterine cancer1. Moreover, cohorts with elevated incidence before age 50 years seem to carry this excess risk into ages 50–54 years. In the US, the proportion of colorectal cancers diagnosed before age 55 increased from 11% in 1995 to 20% in 20193, and in the UK, incidence among adults aged 50–54 years rose by 0.58% annually between 2008 and 2017 6. Together, these patterns suggest the influence of emerging generational risk factors.

Pretty similar to Kobe beef

Substrate Flexibility and the Copernican Principle of Consciousness

https://faculty.ucr.edu/~eschwitz/SchwitzPapers/SubstrateFlexibility-260528.htm

I was too tired,
too hot,
too busy
to lift her into my arms.
Now she’s grown,
and time has closed that door
without asking me first.

I once sighed cooking dinner,
stressed by the noise,
the mess,
the endless needs.
Now I sit in silence,
fork against plate,
while they laugh somewhere else.

I fought the car seat,
sweat on my brow,
patience worn thin
under a summer sun.
Now I fight tears
as she drives away
in the front seat
that used to be mine.

I dreaded the cries at 2 a.m.,
the endless rocking,
the sleepless nights.
Now I lie awake at that same hour,
whispering prayers
that the phone will stay silent,
knowing the quiet means she's safe.

One day
you will be old,
weathered,
and in need of care.
Will you be passed by
as you once passed by them?

Absence is not forgotten—
not the way you hope.
It does not erase the bad
and preserve the good.
It erases everything.

The chaos you resent today
is fleeting—
a brief storm
in a long life.

And beyond it—
if you endure,
if you choose love—
there waits a quiet joy:
weekends filled with laughter,
holidays wrapped in small arms
that call you “grandpa.”

Do not trade
that future
for the comfort of escape today.

Breathe.
Stand tall.
Step into the noise.

Learn to love
the mess,
the movement,
the madness.

Because one day
you will reach for it—
desperate to feel it again—
and find it gone,

forever alive
only in the places
you cannot touch.

I don't typically like poems but felt this one was very much worth the share.