About
I'm someone who can't stop asking "but how does this actually work?"—whether it's America's corporate oligopolies, Israel's hidden security taxes, or why my perfectly good tweets get zero traction.
I'm obsessed with invisible systems. I want to map the hidden architecture of power—the stuff that shapes our lives but stays conveniently out of view. If there's an economic structure quietly extracting wealth or a political framework pretending to be neutral, I probably want to write 5,000 words about it.
I care deeply about structural inequality. Poor kids have a 7.5% chance of making it into the top 20%, while rich kids have a 40%+ chance of staying there. Rich kids are more likely to graduate college even when they have worse test scores than poor kids. The game is rigged, and it means we're wasting enormous amounts of American talent. I write and dream about an America where opportunity isn't predetermined by your zip code—where the plumber can build the plumbing software, and domain experts don't need to cosplay as engineers. AI might finally let people with actual knowledge build solutions, instead of watching well-connected grads spend two weeks learning an industry then raising millions. That possibility excites me.
I'll engage with anyone's ideas seriously. I've spent time with Chomsky, Yarvin, and everyone in between—not because I agree with them all (I definitely don't), but because I'd rather understand the strongest version of an argument than dismiss it. Even when someone's conclusions are terrible, their reasoning might be interesting.
I care about trade-offs more than principles. Don't tell me something is "necessary" or "for safety"—tell me what it costs per unit of good achieved and what else we could buy for the same money. Every dollar misallocated is a dollar not spent on something better. This makes me insufferable at dinner parties.
I think about conflict without picking teams. Whether it's Israel-Palestine or American politics, I want to understand power dynamics, historical context, and what different frameworks reveal. Simple hero-villain narratives bore me. Messy reality fascinates me.
I'm a pragmatic idealist. Yes, our systems are deeply broken. Yes, incremental improvements still matter. No, these aren't contradictory. I want to understand how power actually works and imagine how it could work differently. Revolutionary thinking meets spreadsheet analysis.
Music is central to how I understand the world. It's how I engage with history, transcendence, and everything that doesn't fit neatly into analytical frameworks. Whether I'm running a recording studio in Gowanus or listening to something that rewires how I think, music is where I find the patterns that logic can't quite reach.
I'm not above the frivolous. I'll debate the greatest sportswriters of all time and lose repeatedly to Ethiopian players in Age of Empires 2.
Mostly, I'm curious. About systems, incentives, second-order effects, and why everyone seems to accept obviously broken things. I'd rather wrestle with uncomfortable complexity than embrace comfortable certainty.
I'm trying to see clearly. Even when—especially when—I don't like what I see.