Rabbit Holes a commonplace book,kept in the open
¶ 412 · a public commonplace book

Hi, I’m Bhuvan.This is my commonplace book.

It is a linkblog and digital garden for the weird, wonderful, and unexpectedly useful things I find on the internet. Read what I have kept below, wander through a subject, or visit Small Web, my directory of independent blogs.

Recently kept
August 2026
412 Musing

Olivier Blanchard what will trigger a debt crisis in France

source X

I keep being asked. How long can France go on with budget deficits and increasing debt until we get a crisis? The answer: I cannot tell. Not because I am particularly dumb (this is a separate issue). But because there is a potentially large danger zone, where the crisis may or may not happen, depending on the whims of investors. Given our debt and our deficit, we have probably entered the danger zone. If investors continue to…

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FranceDebt 4 threads →
410 Musing

AGI for dummies is here

source X

AGI for normies is already here. I completely agree with Derek Thompson on this—in fact, I’d go so far as to say that even back with Sonnet 3.5, it had already arrived for the rest of us. The first time I heard a similar take was from Tyler Cowen, who pointed out that AGI, for most normal people, is already in our…

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AI 4 threads →
406 Link

I got some links for you

So yeah, had we gotten hit with Dean, Ghemawat, Vinyals, and Le – followed by Hassabis (even yes, with him technically staying, but in a new, less day-to-day role), it would have actually seemed even more catastrophic. Like Google couldn't stop the bleeding. Better to rip the band-aid off, perhaps? Regardless, it's still an optics nightmare. I mean, these people were just on stage together a couple months ago talking about…

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4 threads →
Pulled from the stacks pull another from the archive →

One older leaf, brought back into the light.

097 Verse

Evil by Arthur Rimbauld

Ufff. What a poem. Each verse feels saturated with the bloody, neglected horrors of our own time — horrors I’m no doubt forcing into it, but can’t help seeing thereCouldn't stop hearing the echoes of the present.While loud the red-flecked mouths of cannons singAnd grapeshot whistles under empty sky;While, red and green, before each preening King,The massed battalions break, and thousands die;
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Poetry 4 threads →
412 folios · last kept 14 August Open the full archive →