Technology

LIKE A GAME OF PSYCHOSOMATIC BINGO:

How to Destroy a Lesbian Bar: The scourge of COVID led to drive-by whinings disguised as activism. (Helen Lewis, September 25, 2026, The Atlantic)

My experience pales beside that of Jackie Matellian, the 26-year-old proprietor of the Last Ditch, who, according to the Globe, had run up $50,000 in debt and had been sleeping in her truck as a result of the business’s troubles. She tried to do everything right: The bar was declared to be a safe space for the unhoused, and a no-go zone for police. She and her former co-owners (one of whom uses it/its pronouns) waived the cover charge for anyone who couldn’t pay; more and more patrons took advantage. After the backlash to the change in the mask policy, the bar apologized, explaining that the mask-optional night would help members of the queer community who needed to lip-read. None of this appeased the critics, one of whom felt the bar was insufficiently devoted to “revolutionary praxis,” which is like normal praxis but the discussions you have about it go around and around forever. “How are we supposed to be ‘connected in the revolution’ if we are spreading disease to one another? Nah,” Soe Noire posted.

At this point, Matellian should have realized that you can’t negotiate with terrorists, even ones with long COVID. Instead, though, she optimistically subjected herself to a struggle session—sorry, a mediation-and-accountability process—so that everyone could air their grievances.

The podcast Blocked and Reported, which broke the story of the Last Ditch earlier this month, obtained audio recordings of this meeting, in which pronoun declarations were required. As Katie Herzog, a co-host of the podcast, observed, the participants included “two people named after plants” (Sage and Moss; a third was named Yams). Those attending on Zoom were relentlessly hostile, demanding to know the mediator’s race and whether they would be institutionalized for disclosing any mental-health conditions to her. One of the Last Ditch volunteers told the meeting that the bar was $3,900 in debt and needed to pay within days, but Soe Noire—a self-declared lesbian using he/him pronouns—changed the subject to how the policy change made him feel unsafe. The Last Ditch had failed to uphold “COVID-cautious principles, anti-racism, or revolution,” Noire said. (Reminder: This is a bar. You know, the place where you go to drink beer.)

Most people might be surprised that arguments over masking are still so febrile years after even cautious blue-state schools resumed in-person teaching. But across the United States, some small subcultures live as though it’s still April 2020. That’s because pandemic protections and mitigations quickly became left-coded, to the extent that Donald Trump now has to pretend he didn’t oversee the successful vaccine program. In this context, perma-masking is every bit as much a political symbol as wearing a MAGA hat or a keffiyeh.

Anxiety and depression rates spiked during the pandemic, and some vulnerable people have never really recovered from the effects of physical isolation and the sense of oppressive dread they felt during months when thousands of Americans died. On the right, these emotions drive people toward conspiracism about Chinese bioweapons and false flags and “mass formation psychosis,” the idea that gullible populations were hypnotized into accepting shutdown measures. On the left, these anxieties coincide with a political critique—that Americans and their predatory private-health-care system do not care about disabled people. Masking is a visible symbol of resistance to this injustice, as well as a practical measure against the spread of disease. Notably, too, self-reported long COVID is disproportionately high among trans and bi Americans. Unless science uncovers measurable respiratory differences between bisexuals and the rest of the population, one explanation is that more LGBTQ Americans live in social contexts in which vague, unpleasant symptoms such as brain fog are interpreted as long COVID.

MEMORY IS A LIAR:

Being a Doctor Will Never Be the Same After A.I. (Rachael Bedard, 9/25/26, The New York Times)

This summer, I used an A.I. tool — a platform called OpenEvidence, accessible only to health care providers — to help me choose antibiotics for one patient and to interpret unusual bloodwork for another. A.I. reminded me to consider migraines when a woman presented with dizziness. I chatted with the large language model about treatments for an older man with lung cancer. I have also consulted it about a rash on my father’s back, my son’s fever, a friend’s arm pain and my own difficulty sleeping.


I practice primary care, where every malady is my business. Almost every month, I’m confronted with a complaint or syndrome that I don’t recognize. I’m confident in my mastery over what doctors do — history-taking, reasoning, communicating. I’m less confident about my continued mastery of an ever-evolving universe of facts. Now, the chatbot in my pocket reassures me that I will always know enough, or have access to the cloud-based intelligence that generally does.

The wealthy and powerful tend to insist on seeing the most senior physician, who was also, hilariously, trained longest ago.

THAT WAS EASY:

Commercially viable fusion energy that delivers limitless clean power could be closer to reality (Prabhat Ranjan Mishra, Sep 25, 2026, Interesting Engineering)


A British company has demonstrated the key fuel compression principle underpinning FLARE, its proprietary approach to inertial fusion. First Light Fusion showcased this approach in a series of experiments on M3, the company’s in-house pulsed power facility.

FLARE separates the two main steps needed for fusion: first compressing the fuel, then rapidly igniting it. Much like an engine compresses fuel before ignition, FLARE first assembles the fuel to high density before delivering a separate, rapid burst of energy to trigger fusion. The M3 experiments validate the first of these stages: compressing fuel to high density using a simple, lower power driver.

“This experiment validates a central principle of FLARE: that we can simplify the machine by putting more functionality into the target,” said Mark Thomas, Chief Executive Officer at First Light Fusion.

FAKE IT ‘TIL YOU MAKE IT…INTO A DIAGNOSTIC MANUAL:


Trauma Is Apparently Contagious: The rise of “secondary traumatic stress” shows how far the concept has stretched—and that’s a problem for the patients most in need of care. (Christina Buttons, 9/26/26, City Journal)

Once trauma no longer required direct exposure, it became possible to describe the person hearing about another’s trauma as traumatized, too. In that context, psychologists Lisa McCann and Laurie Anne Pearlman proposed the term “vicarious traumatization” in 1990 to describe changes in therapists who repeatedly encountered clients’ graphic stories of pain and stress.

From there, the number of people considered susceptible to secondary trauma expanded, and the concept has been invoked with increasing frequency. The National Child Traumatic Stress Network, a federally funded organization, now describes secondary traumatic stress as a “common occupational hazard” for professionals who work with traumatized children and warns that listening to their stories can compromise workers’ health and professional functioning.

The concept has also spread well beyond psychotherapists. Teachers can acquire secondary trauma from students. Journalists can experience vicarious trauma from reporting on suffering. In 2023, Time announced that “the whole world” was at risk of compassion fatigue because wars, mass shootings, disasters, and social media continually expose ordinary people to other people’s misery.

EVERY OBJECTION TO RENEWABLES WAS BOGUS:

Why farmers are pairing crops with solar panels (Josh Axelrod, 9/25/26, Deutsche Welle)

The idea for agrivoltaics dates back to 1981, when two German scientists published an article titled “Kartoffeln unter dem Kollektor” (or “Potatoes beneath the collector”). But the first pilot project didn’t begin until 2004 in Japan, a land-constrained country, where there’s particular concern over balancing solar deployment with the protection of farmland.

There are three main types of agrivoltaics: horizontal, where panels look directly up at the sky, vertical, where they’re placed in large rows, perpendicular to the ground, and integrated, often installed atop greenhouses.

Research suggests shade-tolerant crops stand to benefit. That includes berries, grapes and tomatoes — where the panels’ steel framing often doubles as trellises — as well as peaches and peppers.

The panels can also prevent water from fully evaporating, creating a more humid microclimate that benefits the soil — though humidity is a double-edged sword, sometimes introducing plant disease.

Sheep have also proven to be a particularly good match. Compared to cattle or goats, they’re generally easier to manage around solar infrastructure, less likely to damage equipment, and small enough to fit comfortably beneath panels. The practice has other sustainability upsides too: sheep manure fertilizes the soil, and sites require less herbicide.

“If we look at the sheep industry, this has been a real paradigm shift for them, where instead of having to pay to lease land to graze their animals — now they’re actually getting paid to graze,” Kinzer said. “So it completely puts the economics on its head and is a huge opportunity for the sheep industry, which is really struggling in the US pretty much since World War II.”

THE ice AGE WAS A MISTAKE:

Lead you absorbed as a child may cause dementia as you age (Michael J. Coren and Aaron Steckelberg, 9/14/26, Washington Post)

Growing up in the 1980s, I was the last generation to live through the highest period of lead exposure in U.S. history: Exhaust from cars fueled by leaded gasoline, as well as paint chips and lead pipes, added to the toxic burden in my body. Trillions of lead atoms are now part of my being.

For more than 90 percent of the population born between 1951 and 1980, blood lead levels exceeded 5 micrograms per deciliter, a level we now know is associated with lower IQ, attention and behavior problems, and smaller brain volume. In the late 1970s, the peak of the lead crisis, levels in children under 5 averaged 16 micrograms per deciliter, nearly five times higher than today’s threshold for triggering public health intervention. Before national monitoring began in 1976, lead levels were probably much higher.

That arguably makes lead exposure the largest quiet mass poisoning in human history, said Jennifer Weuve, an epidemiologist at Boston University’s School of Public Health.

WE NEED MORE GUINEA FOWL:

The Tick That Hunts Down Its Hosts—Including Us (Burkhard Bilger, June 29, 2026, The New Yorker)

“Everyone comes here and is afraid of Jaws,” he said. “That is not what you should be scared about. It’s the little things.” […]

Roden-Reynolds pointed to a row of stocky little bugs, each with a white dot on its back. These were lone-star ticks, first confirmed to be on the island in 2011. Most ticks are content to sit and wait for a meal to wander past; lone stars have no patience for that. “We see them actually pursuing hosts, which is really disconcerting,” one entomologist told me. Roden-Reynolds has found lone stars on walking trails and benches, in toolsheds, parking lots, and the yards of hundreds of local homes that he has surveyed. He has heard of them scrambling down dunes and across burning sand to feed on sunbathers. “Oh, they’re relentless,” he said.

AND THE LIVIN’ IS EASY:

A hike through the woods feels natural. It’s anything but.: The industrial revolution provided the impetus, the income and the time to do it. (Dominic Piro, 9/13/26, Washington Post)

Before the industrial revolution, the great outdoors was most people’s workplace. They were out there from dawn to dusk in all kinds of weather, doing grueling manual labor, or else they starved. It was only the richest of the rich who could stay inside and partake in such hedonistic extravagances as eating a varied diet or learning how to read. Today we can enjoy the great outdoors because we do it on our own terms.

But back then, wandering around outside could be dangerous. The medieval Norse word skóggangr, a formal punishment for very serious crimes, translates to “going to the woods.” People who received that sentence were cut off from Norse society, leaving them with nowhere to go but the forest, where they eventually died.

Fear of the woods is also evident in old fairy tales, where the forest was commonly portrayed as a scary place because the rules of society didn’t apply there. Now, with the professional management of park services and the aid of mass-produced gear, people can enjoy a break from society even with small children in tow.

As for walking, for most of human history, it wasn’t recreation. It was the primary mode of transportation.

We lead lives of unimaginable leisure.

A CLOSER WALK:

The spiritual power of walking (Simon Eder, 9/10/26, The Jewish Chronicle)

A 2024 umbrella review of multiple meta-analyses, published in Science Direct, found that a few thousand steps a day measurably changes the trajectory of a life. Modern medicine has, in its own idiom, rediscovered something Judaism has never forgotten: that the body in motion is not incidental to the soul’s condition, but bound up with it.

Judaism has long affirmed the power of walking and movement itself carries spiritual weight. The Three Regalim — Pesach, Shavuot and Succot are literally “foot festivals,” which historically demanded physical pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The Torah’s central narrative is itself a journey on foot, from Egyptian bondage through the wilderness toward the Promised Land.