We spent the early part of the decade screaming into the void of chatbots. We asked them to write sonnets about our cats and got back plastic poetry. We demanded the death of the five-paragraph essay and were handed a mediocre B-minus.
Welcome to the November of everything, nothing, and the ghost in the machine. Take your morning commute. If you drove into the office today (November 15, 2024—a Friday, incidentally the most accident-prone day of the week, though your car won't tell you that), your vehicle’s collision avoidance system processed 2,400 potential trajectories in the time it took you to sneeze into your elbow.
How AI changed your daily life in 2024 without you noticing a thing. Assorted Magazines - November 15 2024 -True PDF-
You didn't notice. You were thinking about coffee.
But perhaps that is the point.
To download a high-resolution True PDF of this article (including hidden alt-text for the charts), visit assortedmag[dot]nov/111524/archive.
Carbon capture credits are trading like baseball cards. Every major airline promises "net zero" by 2035, but the fine print on page 12 of the annual report admits the technology required doesn't exist yet. It’s the 2024 version of "the check is in the mail." We spent the early part of the decade
Why? Because they can. Because 2024 is the year we realized we don't need permission to be archivists, critics, or lunatics. Of course, the silence is not universal. There is a war happening in the margins.
November 15, 2024, is a day of maintenance. Of software updates that run in the background. Of realizing that your dishwasher has learned your rinse cycle preferences. Of understanding that the "True PDF" of your life—the high-resolution, non-negotiable document of who you are—is no longer written by you. Welcome to the November of everything, nothing, and