Reading this I keep thinking about a Lynda Barry comic that tells the story of commercializing music--moving it from something everyone makes and could make for one another to something professionals made for executives who could sell it to us.

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Anyway, I learned more about how to look at paintings in my first month of painting watercolors badly but with joy and some seriousness than I did in years of reading about them. Touch an instrument! Make some joyful noise!

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Now the AI boosters are doubling down on that original false notion--that music is just for professionals--to sell us a deeper and more profound alienation from the thing they claim to be liberating.

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For years a Soviet man walks past the newsstand, picks up Pravda, scans the front page, and puts it back. One day the newsagent finally asks him, comrade, what are you looking for? “The obituaries.” He gently says, my good comrade, those are not on the front page. “The one I’m interested in is.”

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I appreciate a lot about Ms. Rachel but in the top 5 somewhere is that she demonstrates how effectively the powers of permanent, irrepressible theater kid energy can be harnessed for good

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