// enter
The site I wish I'd had when I started learning Irish.
Tá an Ghaeilge beo. Teacht isteach.
San Francisco's anarchist hackerspace. I've been woven into this place for years — its history, its community, its chaos. Follow the curiosity if you want to find me.
Essays on AI, community, language, bureaucracy. Things I needed to say badly enough to write them down.
A collaborative writing game. Surrealist tradition, slightly broken on purpose.
Source code, side projects, and the occasional thing that accidentally became a real tool.
Longer thoughts. Less frequent. Worth the wait, I think.
Live dashboard for Noisebridge — streaming radio, pluggable widgets, and enough blinking lights to feel like you're in a Ridley Scott film.
A rotary phone carved from solid agate. Dial any three numbers. A voice asks for your death day. You receive a California Zodiac of Death — printed on thermal receipt paper, yours to keep.
A Rock Band 3 keytar, cut loose from the game and turned into a real wireless MIDI instrument. Play the right chord and coffee appears. Play the wrong one and the lights go red. That part is up to you.
An animatronic parrot with an IR protocol just begging to be reverse-engineered. Forty-some Arduino sketches later: a toy that listens to you instead of the other way around.
A Python library for the biomedical literature. Because researchers deserve programmatic access to the scientific record without losing their minds.
Ríomh — Irish: to weave, to compute, to narrate. My grandmother was one of the ENIAC Six. This is that story.