Anne Hathaway tells Emily Blunt during their 2023 “Actors on Actors” conversation that her “when I am hungry, I eat a cube of cheese” line in “The Devil Wears Prada” is one of “the most iconic lines in cinema history.”

Yo @m0 switching your API to keyed was not a classy move I have requested access as soon as I realized but I am still waiting Please give key, the @PharosWatch machine god is hungry for more data to accurately process the M0 stable universe

I run revenue recognition at one of the 5 companies that will spend more than $800 billion this year, most of it buying from each other. My job is to decide what counts as demand. I count all of it. I have never once counted less. Less is not a direction the software offers. Let me draw you the business on one whiteboard, because it fits on one, and the fact that it fits on one is the first thing nobody in the building says out loud. I sell you the chips. I own a piece of you. I lend you the money to buy the chips from me. And when nobody rents the chips once you have them, I have signed a contract, filed with the government, to pay you for the empty racks anyway, through April of 2032. It is $6.3 billion. We call it take-or-pay, which means I take nothing and I pay you regardless, and the empty rack is the asset. I have a team whose job is to keep the racks empty. A rented rack ends the payment, and the payment is the part I own, so we hold a quarterly review of the emptiness, and last quarter emptiness came in ahead of plan, and I approved spot bonuses. They are among my best people. They understand the thing it took me years to learn, which is that the machine does not have to run. The machine has to be paid for. 4 arrows. Every one of them points back to the same table. Next to each arrow I write the word demand. I am not being figurative. There is a conference room, it is named Demand, I have a badge that opens it, and the number at the bottom of the board goes up, and the number at the bottom of the board is the only thing anyone outside the room will ever see. Some of the profit is real. The rest works like this. We own a piece of a company. We also decide, each quarter, what the piece is worth, and the accounting lets us. Every quarter we decide it is worth more, and the amount it became newly worth is booked as profit, and last quarter that decision was more than half of one company's income for the quarter and nearly half of another's. We have never decided the piece is worth less. Deciding it is worth less is a feature that exists. I have seen the button. I have never met the man who has pressed it, and I have looked, because I would like to shake his hand, and then quietly move him to a team where the button is smaller. An accountant went on television and said that we grade our own homework. He said it as a warning. I wrote it on the board as the method. He is welcome in Demand any time. I would issue him a badge. There is a second number I get to choose. When I buy a chip, I decide how many years it lasts, and the decision decides my profit. I chose 6. I proposed 9. The auditors said no, and I respect them for it, deeply, because a limit is the thing that makes a number feel real, and a number that feels real is worth more than a number that is. The engineers replace the chip closer to 2. The 4 years in between are where a great deal of the profit lives, and the chip does go on to run the thing you typed this morning, so everyone signs, and I mention the second life often, because it is true, and the true part is what the rest of it stands on. My favorite word is backlog. Backlog is money I have been promised by people who do not have it, for machines I have not built, to run a product that does not yet exist at the size I have promised. I recognize all 3 of the not-yets at once. Recognizing not-yets is the whole discipline. One of us is carrying $523 billion of it. I call that Tuesday. We announced $100 billion. Then we un-announced it. The stock went up on the announcement and did not come down on the un-announcement, which taught me a great deal about announcements and nothing whatsoever about $100 billion. Our lawyers say there is no $610 billion loop. There is not. There are many small ones. I drew them myself. They are on the wall in Demand, and a large loop is only a series of small ones drawn by a patient man. My whiteboard sits in a building. The building sits in a county. The county has a school. To cool the building I bid at the power auction. 3 years ago a day of capacity cost about $29. This year it cleared at $329. I added no power to the grid and no wire to the road. I arrived hungry, the auction did the rest, and the price found the family down the road on its own, and the people who run the auction have said, in writing, that the increase is mostly us and that it is not reversible. Not reversible is my favorite phrase after backlog. It means the bill outlives the story. Whatever happens to the number on my board, the town keeps paying the higher number, forever. To cool the building I also draw water. In one Georgia county the water authority says one of our sites drinks about 500,000 gallons a day, roughly a tenth of everything the county has. There is a girl in that county. She is 8. She is doing long division at a desk that sits above the same water we drink first. I do not have her name. I have her county's water usage, to the gallon. It is going down. I file that under efficiency. Here is the figure I keep off the board, so I will put it here plainly. We spend roughly 3 times more building the circle than the circle earns. Among the 5 of us it is more than $800 billion this year, and it climbs next year. When the money going out is triple the money coming in, the men spending it call that conviction. I do not have a word for it. I have a room, and I book it as demand. Last month a woman stood in the doorway of one of these companies and would not move. I did not understand the objection, so I offered to explain the business. She declined. I found this irrational, because the business is correct, and it is all on one board, and the board is right there, and anyone may look at it who has a badge. Her name is Wynd Kaufmyn. She is 69. On her way out in handcuffs she said, I'm not the one that should be in jail. The court disagreed. I turned a memo nobody signed into $100 billion of demand, and I was given a bonus. The system processed both of us correctly. Check the power bill, then check the index fund. You are standing inside the circle, and I would show you the board, but you do not have a badge. I book it as demand.

Some observations on Kimi: 1. It's a very good model! I don't think its performance can be explained away by distillation or anything like that. In agentic coding sessions, it seems pretty much on par with the best public models of Q1 2026. In my fairly limited use, it also seemed very token hungry. It's not obvious to me that this model is actually that cheap to run. 2. I am personally surprised the Chinese state continues to allow the open sourcing of models this good, given potential risks. To be clear, I *myself* might be fine with models presenting this level of marginal risk being open weight, but I am surprised that China is fine with it. I suspect the reason they are is 75% explained by strategic blindness/lack of AGI-pilledness (the CCP is very Yann Lecun-y in its views of AI). The other 25% or so is their lack of compute for customer inference (making China's open-weight strategy an unintended byproduct of US export controls) and the normal Chinese strategy of aggressive exports. For the companies, as opposed to the government, the decision to open source is partially ideological and partially because they are behind, and they know that very few people would pay for sub-frontier models from China. 3. Open-weight models are inherently decelerationist, and I'm continually surprised to see the so-called "accelerationists" so excited about open-weight models. I suspect the reason they are is that they know open-weight models are effectively ungovernable, and they simply like the overall cloak of ungovernability open-weight models create over the whole of AI. It's not a bad strategy; it reminds me of James Scott's recounting of the hill people in "the art of not being governed." Still, in the end, open-weight models deter further AI capex. 4. One probable outcome of an open-weight-model-dominant world is full AI communism, which is precisely what China proposes: rather than a market product, AI is a "public good" which will ultimately be provided by the state as a kind of "digital public infrastructure." This future strikes me as a dystopian hellscape, but I've never met an open-weight models advocate who doesn't ultimately concede this is where things end. You'd be surprised how many 'accelerationists' lobbied me, while I was in government, to support an eleven or twelve-figure federally funded data center so that startups could train models at a subsidy and then give them away for free. There was no other way for AI to progress, they said. Perhaps this is the logical end state of things. Nonetheless, I find myself surprised to see supposed accelerationists excited about such an outcome. I think many of them just don't know what they're doing. Many accelerationists do not view the creation and serving of frontier models as a legitimate business. 5. I would guess that the Trump Administration will at some point realize that their best strategy here would be to create large amounts of regulatory risk around the use of open-weight Chinese models. You don't need to "ban open source" (one of the dumber motifs of AI policy discussion). You just need to direct every agency to issue soft law that creates FUD. "A Federal Reserve Advisory Bulletin found that there may be backdoors in Chinese AI models." It needn't be that well justified. You just create enough regulatory risk that every regulated enterprise backs off. You probably don't want to create so much regulatory risk that you scare off the hyperscalers from serving Chinese models; this will just drive startups to sketchier providers. There's a happy middle ground here. I'd assume they will do some version of this. 6. It's probably true that open-weight models of this capability make the world a bit more dangerous, but not so much more that you'll really notice. At some point the models will be capable enough that you will notice. "A nonliving, invisible, dangerous, and infinitely self-replicating agent escaped from a Chinese lab," you say? Color me shocked.

GERALD & THE FEATHERED BANDITS — PART IV: THE CROW AND THE CANDLE Three knocks. That's how last night ended. Three slow, deliberate knocks from beneath my home. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Ill fortune always bears three fruits. And apparently... one of them lives in my fucking basement now. Fantastic. Sleep did not come to me. For Kitten it did. How? I could not tell you. I spent majority of the night sitting on my couch staring at the ground while Gerald remained perched outside my window. Watching. Waiting. No movement in the slightest. Every so often I'd glance over at him. He'd glance at me. Neither of us hummed. Our relationship had reached the silent-treatment phase within the marriage. Around 3:17 AM, Kitten wandered into the room nuzzled in a blanket. "Has Satan's pigeon moved?" "No." "Anymore knocking?" "No." "Fantastic." She turned back around. "Where are you going?" "Back to bed." "THERE IS AN ANCIENT EVIL UNDER MY HOUSE!" She took a pregnant pause. Looked at me. "And what exactly would you like me to do about that at three in the fucking morning?" ... Valid. She disappeared down the hall. I looked back toward Gerald. "Your recruit is incredibly useful." From outside: Hmmm. "Fuck off." But something had been bothering me. Gerald knew that thing was down there. He had known from the very beginning. The map. The crown. The scouting. The army. He didn't wake it by accident. He wanted it to be awoken. And suddenly... I wasn't sure whose side I was actually on. At sunrise, Gerald finally moved. He tapped the window. Once. Twice. Thrice. "Absolutely fucking not." Tap. Tap. Tap. "Gerald, we've already established three is incredibly ominous." Hmmm. Then he flew away. I sighed. Grabbed my stick crown. And followed him. Because apparently survival instincts are most optional equipment and mine didn't come with factory-installment. Kitten followed behind me. "Where are we going?" "Your guess is as good as mine." "Excellent. Loving that for us." Gerald led us back into the woods. But not toward the dungeon. Not toward the stone. Somewhere else. Somewhere deeper. Eventually we reached an behemoth dead oak. Its branches were twisted together like fingers. Hundreds of strips of black cloth hung from them. At the base of the tree sat something strange. A candle. Just one. Gerald landed beside it. Kitten stopped. "No." "He hasn't even done anything yet." "There is a single candle beneath a decayed tree covered in black ribbons. I've seen enough horror movies to understand basic fucking foreshadowing." Gerald ignored her. He tapped the ground. Scratched beneath the leaves. And uncovered something. A small stone tablet. There was writing carved into it. No symbols this time. Just words. Old and weathered. But legible. At the top: THE CROW AND THE CANDLE Gerald perched beside it. And somehow... I knew he wanted me to read. So I did. Once there was a crow who ruled over a starving flock. Winter had swallowed the land. The trees bore no fruit. The rivers became stone. And each morning the crow awoke to fewer voices than the morning before. One night, the crow saw a candle burning inside the home of Man. The crow knew that fire had belonged to the Man. The crow knew taking it was forbidden. But the crow also knew his children were freezing. So he stole the flame. He carried it home in his beak. The fire warmed the first nest. Then the second. Then the third. And the flock rejoiced. The crow had saved them. But wherever the candle burned... a shadow appeared. At first, the shadow was small. So the flock ignored it. As the flame grew... so did the shadow. Until eventually... the shadow became hungry. The flock begged their King to extinguish the flame. But winter still surrounded them. Without the fire, they would freeze. With the fire... the shadow would feed. And so the King was given a choice. Extinguish the flame and allow many to perish. Or... choose one bird each night for the shadow. I stopped reading. Kitten stopped making jokes. The latter concerned me more than anything. I looked at Gerald. "What did the King choose?" Gerald didn't move. I looked back at the stone. There was one final line. I brushed the dirt away. And read it. The King fed the shadow. Silence. "Jesus Christ." Kitten whispered. Gerald looked at me. I suddenly understood why he'd brought me here. "No." Gerald tilted his head. "No, Gerald." Hmmm. "I know what you're asking, and I am saying NO." Kitten looked between us. "Well, fantastic, because I fucking don't." I pointed toward the story. "He's asking what I would choose." Gerald nodded. Kitten stared at him. "You're giving her a fucking ethics exam?" Hmmm. "YOU KIDNAPPED ME FOR THIS ORGANIZATION AND NOW THERE'S HOMEWORK?" Normally I would have laughed. I couldn't. Because Gerald was still staring at me. Waiting. I looked back at the tablet. One life. For many. Simple mathematics. Horrifying mathematics. And suddenly the crown on my head felt weighted. "I wouldn't choose." Gerald's feathers shifted. Hmmm. "I said I wouldn't choose." Gerald tapped the tablet. Harder. "There has to be another way." He tapped again. "I'm not feeding anyone to a monster just because a fucking rock says those are my options." Gerald screamed. The forest erupted. Hundreds of crows descended from the trees. Kitten grabbed my arm. Gerald flew directly in front of me. Angry. Not annoyed. Not impatient. Furious. And I finally snapped. "YOU MADE ME KING!" Silence. Even Gerald stopped. "Remember?" I pulled the crown from my head. "You brought me into this." I stepped closer. "You put this stupid fucking collection of shrubbery on my head." Kitten whispered: "Very regal." "Thank you." I pointed at Gerald. "So if I'm King, then I decide." Gerald stared at me. "And I will not sacrifice someone just because it's convenient." Hmmm. "I don't care if that's what the last King did." Gerald froze. There. Something changed. The crows began whispering amongst themselves. Tiny clicks. Soft caws. Restless wings. And suddenly I realized... The story wasn't about some ancient crow. Gerald lowered his head. "Gerald..." He wouldn't look at me. Oh. Oh fuck. I turned toward the tablet. The King fed the shadow. One bird every night. Again. And again. And again. Until winter ended. I looked at Gerald. "That was your King." Silence. "Wasn't it?" Gerald closed his eyes. Hmmm. Kitten whispered: "Oh fuck." For once...accurate and appropriately timed. Gerald hadn't brought me here to learn how to defeat the thing beneath my house. He brought me here because he'd seen this once before. His flock had survived it before. And Gerald knew the price. "How many?" Gerald didn't answer. "How many birds did he sacrifice?" Nothing. Then the forest moved. One crow descended. He was old. He was missing feathers. One of his eyes clouded white. Then another. Then another. They were scarred. They were broken. They grew silent. Survivors. There had been another war. Another King. Another shadow. And suddenly Gerald's obsession with loyalty made terrifying sense. Why betrayal had mattered. Why he tested Kitten. Why he watched me. Why he needed to know what kind of King I would become. I looked down at the crown that rested in my hands. Maybe that was the real fable. Not the crow. Not the candle. Not even the shadow. The King. Because anyone can promise to protect everyone when protection costs absolutely nothing. Leadership becomes something entirely different when the saving of many requires you to look at one innocent soul...and decide they are expendable. I placed the crown back upon my head. "I'm not your old King." Gerald stared at me. "Nobody is getting fed to anything." A long pause. Then— THUMP. The ground shook. Kitten sighed. "Of fucking course." THUMP. Birds exploded from the branches. Gerald remained. THUMP. Closer. The candle beneath the tree suddenly ignited. Nobody touched it. Its tiny flame flickered. And behind Gerald... his shadow stretched across the ground. Longer. Longer. Longer. Until it reached my feet. Except... Gerald hadn't moved. The flame hadn't moved. But the shadow had. Kitten whispered: "Bexxy." "I see it." The shadow crawled over my boots...up my legs...across my chest. Then stopped directly over the crown. Gerald screamed. The candle went out. Darkness. And from somewhere beneath the earth... something whispered. Not a hum. Not a knock. Spoken words.. "A King who will sacrifice nothing..." The voice came from every direction. The soil. The trees. My bones. Then it laughed. Low. Ancient. Starving. "…will eventually sacrifice everything." Silence. Kitten grabbed my hand. Gerald stared into the darkness. I swallowed. "Well." Kitten looked at me. "Don't." "I was just going to say—" "Whatever sarcastic bullshit you're about to say, DON'T." ... Fair. Gerald slowly turned towards me. And for once... I didn't need him to hum. I understood. The thing beneath my home had just challenged the King. And I had answered. Nobody was being sacrificed. Nobody was being offered. Nobody was becoming food for some ancient shadow because tradition said that's how this story ends. Maybe that made me brave. Maybe it made me foolish. More than likely both. But here's the thing about old fables: They're supposed to teach you how the story ends. Nobody ever said you had to obey them. I looked toward Gerald. Gerald looked toward me. I nodded. He nodded. Kitten sighed. "You two are about to do something entirely fucking stupid, aren't you?" Gerald: Hmmm. Me: "Abso-fucking-lutely." Kitten stared at us. "I want my walnut back." And somewhere deep beneath the earth... the shadow laughed again. Because apparently... Phase Two had begun.

Highly Respected Prime Minister of Hungary, Viktor Orbán, is a truly strong and powerful Leader, with a proven track record of delivering phenomenal results. He fights tirelessly for, and loves, his Great Country and People, just like I do for the United States of America. Viktor works hard to Protect Hungary, Grow the Economy, Create Jobs, Promote Trade, Stop Illegal Immigration, and Ensure LAW AND ORDER! Relations between Hungary and the United States have reached new heights of cooperation and spectacular achievement under my Administration, thanks largely to Prime Minister Orbán. I look forward to continuing working closely with him so that both of our Countries can further advance this tremendous path to SUCCESS and cooperation. I was proud to ENDORSE Viktor for Re-Election in 2022, and am honored to do so again. Election Day is Sunday, April 12, 2026. Hungary: GET OUT AND VOTE FOR VIKTOR ORBÁN. He is a true friend, fighter, and WINNER, and has my Complete and Total Endorsement for Re-Election as Prime Minister of Hungary — VIKTOR ORBÁN WILL NEVER LET THE GREAT PEOPLE OF HUNGARY DOWN. I AM WITH HIM ALL THE WAY! President DONALD J. TRUMP (TS: 09 Apr 19:45 ET)

Putin: In the western part of Ukraine, there are lands that Stalin gifted to Ukraine after WW2. Yes, it was Stalin who gifted those lands to Ukraine. But he gifted them within the framework of a single state. Apparently, it never occurred to him that a situation like today's could arise. By the way, I am sure that sooner or later, Ukraine will lose these western lands. What belonged to Poland, Hungary, and Romania will eventually, historically, return to its place. There was only one guarantor of Ukraine's territorial integrity—and that was Russia. But they found it necessary, possible, and beneficial for themselves to declare Russia their enemy.

I am not exaggerating, there are Unsupervised Cybercabs without steering wheels or pedals all over Austin, TX right now at almost every corner. It is SO BEAUTIFUL on the road. The glossy gold (first time seeing it) is stunning in the sun. I also LOVE how massive the wheels look. This is literally the future. I’m in @Robotaxi heaven right now.