The other day, while waiting for my coffee to brew at work, I witnessed something that made me do a double-take. My colleague’s manager was methodically printing out every single email from their inbox. Not just the important ones - every single one. The printer hummed away like it was 1999, churning out paper after paper of digital communications that were perfectly accessible on their computer screen.

This scenario, shared recently in an online discussion, struck a chord with me. The environmental impact alone is staggering. Running some quick calculations during my lunch break, I figured that printing just 30 emails a day amounts to over 7,500 sheets of paper annually. That’s roughly one whole tree every year, not to mention the energy consumption and toner waste.

The political winds are shifting across the Pacific, and their effects are already rippling through our economic waters. Walking through the Queen Victoria Market yesterday, I overheard several traders discussing the potential impact of Trump’s likely return to power, and I’ve been mulling over what this means for our economic future.

Treasury officials are now bracing for what could be a perfect storm of higher interest rates and weaker growth. The prospect of massive tariffs - particularly the proposed 60% on Chinese goods - isn’t just another headline from overseas; it’s a direct threat to our economic stability.

Looking through various online discussions lately, there’s been a disturbing yet understandable trend emerging: people actively hoping for an uncontrolled artificial superintelligence (ASI) to save us from ourselves. The sentiment reminds me of sitting in my favourite Carlton café, overhearing conversations about the latest political developments while doomscrolling through increasingly concerning headlines.

The logic seems straightforward enough - we’ve made a proper mess of things, so why not roll the dice on a superintelligent entity taking the reins? Recent political developments, particularly in the US, have only amplified these feelings of desperation. Walking past the State Library yesterday, I noticed a group of young protesters with signs about climate change, and it struck me how their generation might view ASI as their last hope for a liveable future.

The Pentagon’s recent announcement about incorporating AI into nuclear weapons systems sent a shiver down my spine. Not just because I’ve been binge-watching classic sci-fi films lately, but because the line between cautionary tales and reality seems to be getting frighteningly thin.

Remember when we used to laugh at the seemingly far-fetched plots of movies like WarGames and Terminator? They don’t seem quite so outlandish anymore. Here we are, seriously discussing the integration of artificial intelligence into what’s arguably the most devastating weapons system ever created by humankind.

The recent comments by Yuval Noah Harari about AI potentially trapping us in a world of illusions have been making the rounds online. While his warning about AI creating deceptive realities is thought-provoking, I’m sitting here in my study, scrolling through various social media feeds, and thinking we might already be there.

Remember the lockdown periods? Stuck at home, many of us found ourselves diving deeper into our digital worlds. My daily routine involved jumping between news websites, social media, and endless Zoom calls. The algorithm-driven content kept serving up more of what I liked, what I agreed with, and what reinforced my existing views. It was comfortable, but was it reality?

The weekly grocery shop has become something of a psychological thriller lately. Standing at the checkout, watching those numbers climb higher and higher, I’m reminded of my old flight simulator sessions - except there’s no landing in sight for these prices.

Last night’s shop at my local Woolies left me properly gobsmacked. A handful of basics - some fruit, vegetables, and a few pantry items - somehow morphed into a three-figure sum that would have seemed absurd just a year ago. Remember when a leek was just a humble vegetable rather than a luxury item?

Finding out that Tim Tams are cheaper in Japan than at my local Coles has really gotten under my skin today. Not just a little cheaper - we’re talking $1.40 less per packet. Something is seriously wrong when our beloved Aussie biscuits cost more at home than they do after being shipped halfway across the world.

The standard defense of “but shipping costs!” doesn’t hold water anymore. We’re all getting wise to the fact that sea freight is actually one of the cheapest parts of the supply chain. What we’re seeing here is pure price gouging, dressed up in the emperor’s new clothes of “market forces.”

Walking through David Jones the other day, I spotted a gleaming white Le Creuset Dutch oven on display, instantly reminding me of the day I made what seemed like an absolutely mad purchase seven years ago. Five hundred dollars for a pot? Past me must have been temporarily insane.

The sight sparked an interesting reflection on how we value quality and longevity in our everyday items. Back then, I was a uni student, and dropping that kind of money on cookware seemed completely ridiculous. I remember justifying it to myself: “It’s an investment piece,” I said, probably sounding like every other millennial trying to rationalise an expensive purchase.

There’s something uniquely beautiful about the simple act of a toddler waving at strangers. Today, a heartwarming discussion caught my attention, reminding me of how these tiny gestures can create ripples of joy throughout our community.

The cynical among us might dismiss such interactions as trivial, but the reality is far more profound. Bus drivers light up their vehicles with a friendly toot, train conductors wave back with enthusiasm, and even the most hurried commuters find themselves breaking into genuine smiles when greeted by a tiny hand waving hello.

The gaming giant Valve just made another consumer-friendly move by requiring developers to explicitly disclose when their games use kernel-level anti-cheat systems. While this might sound like technical jargon to some, it’s actually a significant step forward for transparency and user privacy.

Sitting here in my home office, glancing at my Steam library, I’m reminded of how far we’ve come from the days when gaming platforms treated users as mere wallet-carriers. Valve has consistently shown that it’s possible to run a profitable business while respecting user privacy and choice. Their move away from Google Analytics, preference for privacy-focused solutions, and tireless work on Linux gaming through Proton demonstrates a commitment that goes beyond mere lip service.