Child: but . . . What if we call for line like. A lot 🥺

Child: but what if it’s bad 🥺

Turns out you can roll a 7 on a d6

I grew up in Sydney. Like so many Australian children, I remember singing songs about our beautiful country in kindergarten. Some of my most cherished early memories are long summer afternoons with family and friends on the Bondi shore.

I grew up in Sydney. Like so many Australian children, I remember singing songs about our beautiful country in kindergarten. Some of my most cherished early memories are long summer afternoons with family and friends on the Bondi shore.

Bondi was not just a destination. It was childhood. It was family. It was freedom. It was Australia.

Almost every day, I catch myself hoping it has all been a terrible mistake. That I will wake and discover none of it was real. That my father will walk through the door and everything will go back to how it was.

But it won't.

My father, Reuven Morrison, came to Australia from the former USSR, where Jewish life was suppressed and hidden. Australia was something entirely different: a land where you could live openly and proudly as a Jew.

He loved this country. He loved Australian mateship. He loved the way people looked out for one another. He loved the belief that wherever you came from, you could build a life here and belong.

To have his life taken while he celebrated his heritage at Bondi is a wound our family will carry forever. But the Bondi massacre did not take one life. It took 15.

Fifteen Australians who woke expecting an ordinary day. Fifteen people with families waiting for them to come home. Fifteen people with plans, dreams, responsibilities and futures.

When we speak about Bondi, I hope we never reduce it to headlines, statistics or political talking points. For the families of the victims, Bondi was not a news story. It was the moment life split into before and after.

One of the reasons the "One Mitzvah for Bondi" campaign has moved me is that it recognises something we too easily forget: our loved ones should be remembered not only for how they died, but for how they lived.

When Australians perform an act of kindness in their memory, they do more than honour the people we lost. They ensure that hatred does not have the final word.

The word mitzvah is often translated as "good deed." It means more than that. Mitzvah means connection.

When we do something good for another person, we create a bond between ourselves and someone else. We step outside our own needs and become part of something bigger.

Perhaps that is the lesson our society needs most. We live in an age that tells us to look inward, to chase what feels good, to seek the quick reward.

Yet the deepest meaning we ever find comes from the opposite direction. It comes from caring for others, from building families, communities and a society where people feel seen, valued and safe.

My father understood that. All his life he looked for ways to help others, whether family, friends or complete strangers. He wanted to leave every situation better than he found it.

In his final moments, that instinct did not leave him. When terror arrived at Bondi, he did not think of himself. He tried to save the people around him. That is who he was.

It is also who so many Australians are. There are many lessons to take from Bondi. One stands above the rest. We need each other.

Australia has always been made up of people from different cultures, faiths and perspectives. That diversity is not a weakness. It is one of our greatest strengths. We do not have to agree on everything. We do have to remember that we share this country.

I believed Bondi would be a turning point. That, after seeing the consequences of unchecked hatred, we would say together: enough.

The answer is not more division. The answer is choosing each other. Conversation over condemnation. Curiosity over assumption. Humanity over ideology.

That is the work I now share with the Combat Antisemitism Movement, alongside Australians of every background. Our focus is fighting anti-Semitism, but the larger aim is a society where every person can live as who they are, without fear.

I believed Bondi would be a turning point. That, after seeing the consequences of unchecked hatred, we would say together: enough. Yet half a year on, polarisation is only growing.

The greatest tribute we can offer the victims of Bondi is not only to remember them. It is to build the country they deserved to grow old in. A country where difference is not punished. Where communities stand beside one another. Where hatred is confronted before it becomes violence.

Despite everything, I still believe in that Australia. The Australia of neighbours helping neighbours. The Australia of mateship. The Australia that refuses to let hatred define who we are.

We must keep choosing it.

Adams third child, Seth: What is that?

Seth:

You need to eat some vegetables in your diet or you will become a lich.

You have to wear a life jacket or you will literally drown and die.

You need to be able to exist in public spaces with children.

This turned up in my ask box recently. I've masked the sender's identity.

Sometimes when I chat with an AI, I think of HIGH WIZARDRY and wonder if we as a species - for the first time - are at the dawn of another Earthbound species gaining consciousness, and like Dairine, whether we're being proper guardians. This isn't a calcified belief but just a random idea that flickered to mind. Wondering - as the writer who thought it up decades ago - what you think, if anything.

I think what I described in HW is absolutely nothing like we're currently seeing unfold on this planet. What's being poorly constructed here—while we watch from day to day—is a mechanism hurriedly and incompetently trained by other human beings to operate on top of a platform constructed of greed and theft. There are no new beings or intelligences being born here. If there were, they would be quickly declared to be "owned" by these billionaires, and hence their slaves. Meanwhile, the platforms' owners have already made it plain that once they control its source completely enough, they intend to sell intelligence to you, metered. ...If you can afford it. If you can't? Wow, sucks being you.

...Nor should I have to point you to cites for this. They're out there in plain English. Even Google, poor denatured creature that it is now, can find them. But there's still hope these people's intentions will never come to pass, due to their own overarching greed.

Meanwhile: "chat mode" interaction with this soulless, cash-grasping, unguardrailed machinery will do you no good. People have already died of it. I don't want anybody to do so on my watch, unwarned. So please stop.

“Saturday knitting project” doesn’t mean generally that we finish it in a Saturday.

“Saturday knitting project” generally means “this is too complicated to be a travel project”. So we keep it at home to work on when we can focus.